In Cold Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

coming in from three directions, all it would take would be for the pirates to fluke a lucky shot or for a weapon to jam and a whole flank of this enormous ship would be vulnerable. He would be able to stand in and fill any gaps that developed, but there was no flexibility for them at all. He had thought about involving the crew, but they didn’t look all that handy and he didn’t want to risk it, unless it was absolutely necessary.
    One of the seaman, an Aussie, approached him with a portable radio clutched in his hand. “It’s the captain,” he said. “Wants to talk to you.”
    He took the radio. “Captain?”
    “You know the situation? Four skiffs coming in, a mothership staying out of range behind them?”
    He put plenty of confidence into his reply. “Yes. We’ve got it under control.”
    “I’m going to change course a couple of times and see if I can’t make the wake a little choppier for them. That’ll make things more difficult for the boats astern, but the two to port and starboard are too far ahead to be affected. They’re coming in, whatever we do. I’ve got men on the hoses. We’ll start pumping them when they get into range, but it’s touch and go whether they’ll have much effect. I wouldn’t bank on it.”
    “You don’t need to,” Joyce said as he started to assemble his sniper rifle. “How far out are they?”
    “The nearest is two miles out. Closing fast.”
    “I’ve got a fifty-cal sniper rifle up here,” he said. “Anything within five hundred metres might as well be right next door. Have you seen what a big bullet like that does to a man’s head? It’s not pretty. I plug a couple of them, they’ll lose their lunches. They’ll turn around quick.”
    “You can make a shot like that?”
    “Don’t worry, Captain,” he said. “I’m the best. That’s why I’m so expensive.”
     
    JOE CALLED down to the engine room and told them they were going to need to squeeze every last rev out of the engines. That would be a delicate balancing act. Too slow, and it would be easy for the skiffs to reel them in. Too fast, and he would blow the gaskets and they would be helpless.
    He looked down at the radar. The closest skiff was less than a nautical mile away. They were travelling at seventeen knots. The skiffs were doing twenty.
    “Sound the intruder alarm.”
    The third mate sounded the ship’s whistle and then went over and activated the alarm. If anyone was still asleep, they wouldn’t be for long. They needed every man at his post.
    “Turn on the pumps.”
    The Carolina had powerful pumps positioned all around it. They kicked in and started to send powerful streams of seawater in forty-foot gushes. The pressure was significant, enough to buffet a boat off course or fill it and submerge it, if the flow hit it head-on.
    “Get the crew to the safe rooms. Lock the engine room.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    Joe had been in the Merchant Navy all his life. He never had reason to fire a gun, and nor could he remember ever seeing anyone else fire one in his presence. Nevertheless, he recognised the chatter of an automatic rifle as the guard on the port rail fired a warning volley into the sea ahead of the skiff.
    The boat did not stop.
    It kept coming.
     
    JOYCE WATCHED as the skiff ignored the warning shots. It was his funeral. He raised his glasses and studied the boat coming in towards them from the port side. The Carolina was casting out a series of furrowed waves from the bow, but the skiff was able to address them from an angle and bounced across from one to the other. He counted five men aboard and it looked like they were well-used to the sea. They absorbed the impacts as their boat leapt up and slammed back down again, rocking to and fro, without needing to anchor themselves.
    He watched with the glasses as the man in the front of the boat raised a rifle and aimed forwards. He heard the crack of return fire, bullets ricocheting off the superstructure. The boat was still a good