Sonya turned slowly to Mironov, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “Maybe we didn’t need the whale after all. Maybe there will be something else in the water to attract our fish.” She checked her watch. “I suggest we make sure the boarding nets are in place so those fools can’t set foot on deck and sabotage the cannon.”

Regina stood beside Vincent. “They’ll try and snag us – I hope that prop shield does what it’s supposed to.”

Drago took his jacket off. He wore a green shirt, plastered to him with perspiration. Cate noticed that as well as having bulging muscles, in the small of his back the guy had a holstered gun on his belt. She saw that Vincent noticed it as well.

“Hey, big guy, I hope you don’t expect to use that?” Vincent was a half a head smaller, but lowered his brow at the huge Russian.

Drago put a hand on the weapon, as though he had forgotten it was there. Mironov stepped forward, putting a hand on Drago’s forearm.

“Not on people.” Mironov smiled. “Self defense only, I assure you.”

Sonya folded her arms. “Don’t worry, there will be no laws broken today. But...” Her eyes became steely hard. “…these fanatics better not interrupt what we are doing here. It is for their benefit as well.” She nodded to Cate. “Ms Granger, you are the nice one. Hail their ship one more time, and try and talk them down, or at least get them to stay clear.”

“Too late,” Regina said, looking down at the Slava’s active sonar. “We’ve got two rapid bogies in the water.” She grimaced. “I’m betting dinghies, coming at us hard and fast.”

Sonya’s teeth showed, and Cate could have sworn she heard the woman growl. “Then it is game on.” She and Mironov headed for the deck.

Cate then noticed there was also a gun tucked into the back of the tall woman’s waistband.

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 38

Olander stood in the bow of Flying Bird-2, holding tight to a rope tied to its nose. Behind him, a cameraman kept him in frame, while the late afternoon sun made his silver hair and beard seem to glow. He pointed, his arm outstretched. They knew which way to go, but he guessed it would look fabulously heroic, almost like Leutze’s depiction of George Washington crossing the Delaware.

The ocean was glass smooth, with any vestige of a breeze dying away hours back. Olander inhaled deeply – he loved this – the smell of brine, humid salty water, and fresh clean air. They were well out over the continental shelf, and too far out for sea birds, but he bet if he dived over the side he’d see all manner of sea life, from dolphins, tuna, and maybe even a small mako shark or two.