SAVING KARMA by Bracken Reid

Author:Bracken, Reid
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

28

South China Sea

Mitso squinted in the darkness, tasting tangy salt from the South China Sea as he and the boat driver bounced over the waves towards the Panamax container ship in the distance. In the darkness, the huge vessel was lit up like a Christmas tree, its foredeck a good six stories above the ocean’s surface, with stacked containers rising another twelve meters above the deck. Maneuvering the Zodiac FC-420 rubber boat through the wake of the huge ship, they shot around its starboard side and moved up parallel to midship, staying in the hull’s shadow.

Mitso raised the grappling hook rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The hook shot away into the darkness, trailing a line that played out like a fishing reel behind the rubber hook which arced over the top of the guard rail above. Pulling hard on the slack line, it held fast, and he jumped away from the rubber boat. Hugging the rope, he pulled himself up hand over hand adjacent to the ship’s hull with his legs snaking underneath. Slowly the white noise of the ocean faded as he reached the deck’s guardrail.

A hand was proffered out of the gloom. “Right on time,” said a man wearing a plastic hard hat and yellow safety vest.

“We alone?”

“I’m the only deck watchkeeper tonight, at your service.”

Mitso flashed a penlight to his boat driver below, signaling him to hold position.

With shipping containers stacked six high above the deck, they moved along a walkway around the perimeter of the freighter and turned into a numbered row. The crewman craned his neck, looking up at the tightly stacked containers all around them.

He stopped and pointed. “There it is. That green one, fifth one up. It’s all unlocked and ready for you.”

Mitso climbed up the stack and looped a safety strap through an eye plate at the upper corner of the green shipping container. He swung open the container’s metal doors and stepped inside.

There were rows of blue plastic drums, stacked two high on metal racks. Each drum had a tube feeding from its top, snaking back to a large plastic box which emitted the muffled sound of a motor operating.

He examined one of the drums and put his hand on the black nylon jacket strapped around it, noting it was warm to the touch. He cut off the plastic locking tab on the drum’s lid and pulled off its metal hold down ring, slowly cracking it open.

The smell of fishy brine wafted over him as his headlamp illuminated the interior of the water-filled drum. The surface was dotted with bubbles which popped and reformed while a tuft of sea grass floated up from the bottom, swaying in the recirculated water.

There were dozens of small colored reflections intertwined with the sea grass. At first, thinking they were small fish, he saw their bodies offered an odd profile.

With no gloves, he weighed the risk and slowly reached down into the water. Carefully scooping through the grass, he felt a slight squirming in his cupped hand.

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