10 Sea of Fire by Jeff Rovin

Author:Jeff Rovin [Rovin, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-FIVE

The Celebes Sea Saturday, 2:02 A.M.

Peter Kannaday did not know what to expect when he reached the radio room.

He could not imagine to whom Hawke might be broadcasting. Jervis Darling? The Malaysian fishing ship? Someone else? Kannaday’s mind leapt to conspiracies. Perhaps Hawke had pirates following them in order to seize the Hosannah. Or maybe an aircraft was en route to remove him. Or Kannaday.

As Kannaday swung down the stairs he learned how wrong he had been. Hawke was not even in the radio room. He and his thugs were waiting for the captain in the hall. Two men grabbed Kannaday, one hugging each arm. A third got behind him and grabbed Kannaday’s windbreaker. He grasped it near the neck and put a knee against Kannaday’s lower back. That prevented the captain from bending. A fourth man forced a rag in Kannaday’s mouth. The captain tasted oil. It had come from the engine compartment. The men turned Kannaday so he was facing into the corridor.

Hawke was standing there.

The security man passed under the recessed light. His arms were at his sides. For the most part his expression was as inscrutable as always. Except for the eyes. They were volcanic.

Kannaday struggled for a moment before settling into tense compliance. He was not afraid. Though Kannaday had a pretty good idea what was about to take place. He was going to die. He was resigned, though still defiant.

Hawke stepped in very close. He put the heel of his left palm against Kannaday’s chin and began to push up slowly. The captain’s head went back. Kannaday’s gaze shifted from Hawke’s angry eyes to the low ceiling of the corridor. He felt the muscles tense along his shoulders and upper arms. The pressure was cutting off his air. He tried to draw breath around the rag in his mouth. Nothing was getting through. He began to feel claustrophobic, panicky. If Hawke pushed back any farther, his neck would snap.

Kannaday resisted. He began to struggle again.

“You want to breathe,” Hawke said. “Let me help.”

Hawke released Kannaday’s chin. He stepped back and punched the captain hard in the gut. Kannaday could not help but breathe then. He sucked air through his nose and around the rank cloth. Hawke moved in on him again. He hit Kannaday with a roundhouse right to the jaw. It struck so hard that the cloth flew halfway from the captain’s mouth. Kannaday snatched more air through his nose and mouth as he took another blow to the belly, a hard left. Hawke stepped in as he delivered it, twisting at the waist. At the same time he drew the other elbow back, tucked tight against his ribs. That gave the twist extra snap. Hawke knew how to drive the blows in. He knew how to make them hurt.

When he was younger, Kannaday had been in a number of dockside brawls. But those always ended up on the floor and consisted mostly of grappling and clawing. He had never been given a beating.

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