UnAlaska

37. Rendezvous

Dmitry rammed the lifeboat into a shallow section of rocky beach outside of Unalaska. There was a deep scraping sound twice, as they bounced over taller rocks off shore. Then a booming, continuous scraping sound as the water became shallower. He left the throttle slammed wide open to keep speed. He needed to make sure the boat was securely stopped, and with shallow enough water to walk away quickly.

The impact was violent and jarring. They lurched forward as the boat lost speed, and were tossed side to side over the harsh beach. The lifeboat was a like a big, fiberglass bottle with bare walls. The sound was amplified inside, and it was deafening. They came to a stop. Dmitry's ears were ringing. Outside the boat, the rain was sideways. The small plexiglass windshield was covered in sheets of rain.

The engine made terrible clattering and screeching sounds as the propeller scraped uselessly against the rocks. Dmitry unbuckled himself and looked around. The children were all buckled into harnesses. Most of them were sitting in stunned silence. The air smelled acidic and sickly from vomit and urine, which sloshed forward in the small channels of the corrugated floor. Two of the children were unconscious. Whether they bounced their heads against the walls or passed out from stress and fear, Dmitry didn't know.

Pavel was buckled into the back row. He was supposed to keep the children in their places while they made it to shore. But, he didn't look good. They had taken his shirt off and tied it into a tight, makeshift bandage around his shoulder. The shirt was soaked through with blood, and he was pale and gray. It was clear his shoulder was ruined. His right arm was now hanging, uselessly. He held a gun in his left hand, but it was drooping to the floor. His head was lolling forward. He jerked his head back up and opened his eyes wide, then started to sink forward again.

Dmitry knew they didn't have much time. Pavel would die soon, without more blood and a proper hospital. Which meant he would probably die anyway. But that was the cost of success, sometimes. More than that, they had the FBI only a few miles away. Presumably, the lifeboat would be found quickly and swarmed with agents. It was painted a bright signal orange, and wouldn't be hard to find. All of the other launched lifeboats would cloud things, but not forever. They needed to be picked up, quickly, and hidden.

He unbuckled his harness, and fished his phone out of his pocket. He tapped a quick message.

In life boat on shore

Sending pin, get us NOW

Pavel dying maybe, lost lot of blood

He opened his maps application, and sent a location pin to Aleksandr.

A few minutes later, they heard the clatter of the old white van's diesel engine, and the slosh of tires moving quickly on gravel. Through the windshield, Dmitry could see the headlights, turned into a constellation of streaks and swirls by the rain on the plexiglass. The van drove by once, then skidded to a stop. The windshield turned red from the brake lights. He heard the whine of the reverse gear, then the headlights swung around again and pointed toward them.

Dmitry stood up, and adjusted the shoulder strap on his submachine gun. He swung it forward, and pointed it at the children. "Unbuckle yourselves, now."

There was a series of clicks. "If the child next to you isn't awake, unbuckle theirs too."

He heard the crunch of boots on rocks, and then a sharp knock on the door. "Pavel! Get the door."

Pavel shook his head to rouse himself. He stood up, unsteadily. He nearly lost his balance. He opened the door awkwardly with his left hand. Aleksandr stood outside, his rubber raincoat drenched and dripping.

Aleksandr took one look at him and said, "you don't look good, собрат."

Pavel just shook his head, wordlessly. He pushed past Aleksandr and tried to walk up the rocky shore to the van. Dmitry pointed his gun at the children again. "Follow! You will walk to the white van, and get inside."