Hell Ship by David Wood Page A

field. Dane spied the roof of the manor house off to the left, perhaps three hundred yards away. Not an option, he decided. They would never be able to cross that much open ground and there was a good chance that more of Hancock’s cronies would be waiting for them there. He pulled Alex back into the trees and resumed running, keeping the clearing to his left. Somewhere on the far side of that field was the road, where Professor would be waiting. When they had put another hundred yards between themselves and the house, Dane veered back into the open.
    They made it halfway, close enough for Dane to distinguish the gray strip of the road, before the shots started again.
    “Zigzag!” he shouted without looking back. A bullet crackled through air beside him and brushed through the tall grass. He veered away from it.
    The road was close now, maybe fifty yards. Something was moving along it…a car…Professor.
    “There! That’s our ride.”
    He spun on his heel, saw three figures moving along the tree line, alternately running and gunning. He fired two shots in their direction, watched them scatter, and then turned and sprinted for the road. Alex was already there, tumbling into the back seat of the rented sedan. Dane saw Professor in the driver’s seat—the right hand driver’s seat—and cursed the British for not putting the steering wheels on the correct side. He reached the road and dove across the hood, tumbling to ground on the far side.
    A bullet rapped against the fender. Another shattered the rear window.
    Using the front end o f the sedan for cover, Dane emptied the revolver and then climbed into the passenger seat.
    “Go!”
    Professor didn’t need any urging. Even before Dane’s door was shut, he pushed the accelerator to the floor and took off, throwing up a rooster tail of dirt and gravel behind them. There were more reports, but none of the shots found the retreating car, and after a few seconds, they were well beyond the range of the shooters. Dane sagged in his seat, breathing deep and savoring the respite.
    “You did buy the optional insurance at the rental agency, right?” Professor said with a grin. He glanced over the back of the seat at Alex. “You brought a date? Let me guess; that’s her father and brothers taking pot shots at us.”
    “Very funny, but Bones already has dibs on the job of comic relief.”
    Professor ignored him. “I’m Pete, but everybody calls me Professor.”
    Alex shifted into a seated position and buckled her seatbelt. “Professor of what?”
    “ Useless trivia, mostly,” Dane said.
    “ Are you guys military?”
    Professor and Dane exchanged a glance. “Former,” lied Dane, “Is it that obvious?”
    “I heard you on the phone, ‘ one klick east?’ Either you’re military or you’ve watched one too many action movies. So what are you now? You said you found the Nagata Maru ; are you fortune hunters or something?”
    “Yeah, that’s us. My real name is Indiana Jones. That’s my friend Dirk Pitt behind the wheel.”
    “Hey,” protested Professor. “I want to be Indiana Jones. He is a professor, after all.”
    “Nice.” Alex didn’t attempt to hide her sarcasm. “I’ve been rescued by Laurel and Hardy.”
    Dane turned around to meet her stare. “Ok, your turn. Did I hear correctly that you’re a historian? That Templar business; is that for real?”
    “Templars?” Professor perked up and cocked his head.
    Alex looked away. “That not really my field. Listen, I’m grateful to you for getting me out of there, but I really don’t want to get mixed up in your treasure hunt.”
    “Seems to me like you were mixed up in it before I came along.”
    “Well, I still think it might be better for both of us if we just go our separate ways.”
    Professor cleared his throat. “Do you want me let you out right now? Because I’d be willing to bet those fellows in the black van behind us will give you a lift.”
    Both Dane and Alex looked back. The rear