He ran up the ladder well through the two remaining decks to the engine control room level. He was more cautious now and moved slower. His sense of smell could help warn him, but a bullet or a mistake could kill him very easily.
He was a little worried at this point. He should have run into at least a few of the crew by now. Had they not guessed that he might try to take over the ship? Were they so arrogant to believe that he wasn’t a threat? If they really did believe that, than he would have to educate them on just how dangerous he could be with or without his pack. His mother hadn’t raised a weakling or a fool. Efraim had trained him to be a fighter and his heritage bore a long line of warriors. He would prove to be no different.
He moved silently down the main passageway, crisscrossing the passageway finding cover and concealment inside the alcoves next to the bulkhead hatches. He was almost to the engine room, just two more bulk heads to go.
He took a step forward and shots rang out in the passageway. He jerked his leg back as a hail of gunfire flew past him, deafening inside the tight corridor.
He hugged the AK to his chest, pressing his back against the bulkhead next to the hatchway. He tried to look down the passageway and was answered by another hail of gun fire. Jerking himself back against the cover of the solid steel of the ship he focused his eyes down the passageway where he had come. It wouldn’t take them long before they had him surrounded. He had to move.
Unfortunately for him, he was caught in a solid part of the passageway and there wasn’t a door to a room he might duck into, just a fire fighters hose and a ships intercom box. He listened and inhaled deeply trying to figure out how many of them there were. He could smell three of them. That wasn’t too bad.
Closing his eyes he breathed a quick one two breath, and hurled the bottle of bleach down the passageway at his attackers. The three men yelled followed quickly by a burst of gunfire. The gunfire died out and then there was more shouting. Charles hadn’t grasped much of the language of his captors but pain and anger were universal. He leaned out from his cover and sprayed a quick burst of gunfire of his own down the passageway.
He heard more yelling and cries of pain and he jumped into the passageway, through the hatch and taking much more careful aim with the AK gunned down the three men. What the bleach had done he couldn’t really be sure. He smelled the bleach on the floor and walls and the bottle was riddled with bullet holes. He ran towards the men he had killed and quickly grabbed their guns and checked for ammo. He found one spare full clip. Slinging the three other rifles over his shoulder he ran to the engine control room.
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He hurled open the hatch and burst into the room with his weapon ready. The engine room was quiet. He inhaled deeply trying to discern if anyone was in the room. There was a faint scent, but he couldn’t be sure if there was someone in the room with him right then, or if it was just a residual scent. He shook his head. He couldn’t second guess himself, not now. He turned and closed the hatch behind him locking it from outside entry by sliding a nearby pipe into the hatch turn wheel. He remembered a product that people used a long time ago that went on car steering wheels to prevent the turning of the wheel. He couldn’t remember the name, but the same concept applied here.
He moved off in between some of the heavy equipment and put his back against the bulkhead. He had a narrow field of vision, there was only one way for people to see him, it was as safe as he was likely to get in here.
He laid down the three weapons he had taken and pulled out each magazine one by one. Two of the magazines were empty and the last had about fifteen rounds in it. That, with the full thirty round magazine he took, didn’t leave him with a whole lot of ammo. His AK only had eighteen rounds in it. He combined the two half empty magazines to make two full thirty round magazines and then one with three rounds in it. He locked and loaded one of the full magazines and stood up. He hid the other three useless weapons behind some equipment in a dark corner underneath some grating. With any luck no one would find them until this thing was all over.
He crept forward and inhaled the air of the engine control room. He still couldn’t be sure if there was anyone there or not. This made him very nervous and he moved slowly, trying to look in every direction at once.
There was access to the lower deck inside the engine control room itself through the grating and single ladder well. But there wasn’t an exit from the room on that second level. He walked along the grated walkway in between the heavy equipment, turbines and electrical generators. He moves as silently as the grating would allow him to. The scent was definitely getting stronger.
He stopped moving. He saw just the hint of motion below and in front of him. He yelled out, “Hey! Get up here, now!”
This caused absolutely nothing to happen. He grimaced; this was going to be dangerous and time consuming. He ran towards the ladder well, and looked down below him. He knew where he had caught the motion with his eyes and the scent of the ship’s engineer was unmistakable now. Charles quickly jumped down the ladder well, taking three steps at a time and landing hard on the solid deck below before ducking behind some equipment.
He could smell the nervousness and the fear from the man. That could be good or bad, if he had a weapon, he would shoot first and ask questions later, the generators and electrical gear be damned. Charles was not against ruining this whole place, leaving the ship a resting hulk in the middle of the ocean, but that wouldn’t help them get back to the States any sooner, not a preferred course of action.
He dove across the walkway and moved with fluid speed down a parallel walkway from where he had seen the engineer. He could isolate the location of the engineer by smell. What he couldn’t really pinpoint was what kind of cover the man had taken refuge in. He listened to try and hear any sort of metal on metal, anything to hint at a weapon.