Two yachts swayed in ragged confluence, bound together with thick rope fastenings from bow to stern. Men burdened with heavy crates crossed back and forth over the makeshift walkway that bridged the gap between the crafts.
Vision enhanced through binoculars, Harry watched as the last exchanges were made between the two political houses. The platform was lifted and the ropes cast off, the boats then diverged.
'Looks like the trade is concluded,' Harry handed Nate the binoculars.
'There's no way of identifying which house represents which boat.'
Harry snatched the binoculars; observed for a good moment. 'If the Avant house is trafficking again tomorrow, then they will most likely stay on the water for the night…'
'So the boat headed towards the marina is Mora,' Nate deduced.
Flitting through pages, Harry fingered their directory, 'The Mermaid's Marina is the only dockage in this basin.'
'That settles it. We just need to make sure we don't lose them.'
'That's not what we need to worry about mate. We need to start thinking of how we are going to approach them undetected.'
Nate stood to leave, 'You do that, I'm gonna go get ready. Keep them within sight.'
Cloud cover blotted the stars out. The full-moon emerged from tears in the blanket of gray, throwing its revealing luminescence onto the shimmering waters, and temporarily betraying the metallic shine of a metal dinghy. Moaning over the water, it moved slow enough to produce no wake.
Nate and Harry sat anxiously in the craft, adjusting their ear pieces and other auxiliary equipment. The waters they rode were as dark as the gloom that now covered them as the moon retreated behind a wall of cloud.
'Now, faster. We need to get close enough so the hull can hide us from view; before the light returns.'
The muffled monotone of the dinghy's motor rose to a more excited, laborious hum as Harry twisted the throttle. The Avant trade-boat was naught but thirty paces yonder. When the distance was closed, their small craft quietly drifted closer until the rim – which was lined with cushioning foam – bobbed softly against the hull of the larger ship.
'C'mon mate,' Harry flicked the boat into neutral and formed a foot-hold with his hands.
Nate placed his foot in Harry's crude purchase, and pushed down on his shoulders to indicate he was ready. Nate was launched up the side of the Avant's hull, grabbing onto a drainage pipe and pulling himself to the brink of the boat. He threw Harry a gesture that announced he was secure.
Harry directed the dinghy around the length of the larger craft, and stopped on the opposite side of where Nate now hung. Harry scanned for some purchase that might grant him access over the hull.
A thick chain reached from the bow down into the water, the boat's anchor dug firmly into the seafloor. Harry scaled the slick chain, grasping rusty links for a surer grip. When he was high enough, he reached towards the boat and gripped onto a ledge. Shimmying along, he came to a pause, hanging aloft adjacent to Nate's position at starboard side.
'I'm in position,' He whispered into his ear-piece.
About time, this is killing me. Nate's transmission came just a bit loud.
'You ready-' Harry was cut short by the sound of alarmed shouting.
He pulled himself up to peer over the railing to see Nate pulled violently over the railing and into the boat by various men, their attention all turned away from Harry. Drawing his gun from its holster, he held with one arm as he aimed at the men dragging a frantic Nate. The strain on his left arm couldn't hold much longer, he jumped and propped himself on the edge, fired his gun.
The four men broke up like flies disturbed from a feast and unloaded their pistols at Harry. One bullet thumped into his abdomen, driving him back, a second met him midair. He tumbled over the threshold and was swallowed by the black waters below.
The gun-shot had raised a flurry of retaliation, and the last Nate saw was Harry's body being wrenched backwards as if by unseen wires, beyond the light of the deck and into darkness.
His eyes widened as his mind reeled at what he just witnessed. Mouth agape; lost in a reverie of grief, he was disrupted as he suffered a blow to the temple, leaving him dazed, head ringing. The grip of a pistol came cracking down into Nate's head like an adjudicator's hammer, decreeing the darkness that followed. His last thought was smothered, and the pain that flowered through his skull followed him into unconsciousness.
Writhing in pain, Harry was pulled deeper below the surface, sinking rapidly. Tearing his shirt from his torso, he clawed at the strappings of his ballistic vest, picking off two flattened cartridges that still burned even now as he was submerged. At last, he unfastened the clasps and freed himself from the excess avoirdupois. Gaining his natural buoyancy, he kicked and paddled desperately.
Breaking the surface with a gasp, he blinked the salty water from his eyes and swam towards the previously used dinghy, which had now drifted a small distance from the yacht. Heaving himself up into the craft, he ran fingers through his hair, breathe hitched.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hysteric, his mind raced, his thoughts writhing beneath the grip of self-possession. But he couldn't concentrate, consumed by fear of what Nate's fate might be if he didn't move now.
To his dismay, the yacht began to hum. He yanked at the dinghy's pull-start ignition, eliciting a lazy grunt from the motor, which refused to arouse. The yacht started moving through the water, pulling its anchor up as it moved against its catch. It was already on the move when Harry finally got the engine going. He twisted it to full-throttle and followed the yacht as best he could.
The Avant were vacating the area where they had thought they had killed Harry; he figured this much. The yacht opened the distance, the dinghy struggled in its wake, rocking precariously and throwing Harry off balance.
I'll get you. Nate, I am coming.
I've got a little something unexpected planned for the next chapter... And also, if things aren't fully coherent at the moment, it's because I plan on clarifying things later. Just making sure it doesn't come across as bad narrative form.