Hunting the Dragon by Peter Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

spoke first, “All crew onboard and accounted for, captain. Nobody in sick bay and I haven’t had a complaint all morning.”
    Rocha muttered under his breath, “Who’d dare?”
    A short, ruddy-faced man, who spoke with an Australian accent, reported to the captain, “Engine room in order, fuel tanks topped off, and the maintenance schedule is well under way, sir.”
    The Australian snapped the last out with crisp British military tradition.
    “Well done, Mr. McNeal,” the captain offered.
    A young mate, who Billy guessed was some sort of college-educated technician, stood and described the health of the ship’s electronics and that all was well.
    “Thank you, Mr. Marusak,” the captain responded and turned to face the men. “Does anyone have anything to say this morning? Anything at all. Feel free to speak up.”
    No one accepted the invitation and Gandara continued, “After we unload at Samoa, we’ll be heading for the west coast of Central America. When we start fishing, I want Lucky Dragon to be one hundred percent operational. Last night, over the radio, came good news. The price of tuna jumped to sixteen hundred and seventy dollars a ton. That’s an all-time high. And I’m sure you know what that means.”
    The captain swept his eyes across the gathering. “It means,” Gandara stressed, “that you can count on an extra two or three thousand above the usual share when I pay off. Work well, honor the ship, and do your duty.”
    He turned abruptly and left the mess. Santos took the captain’s place and said, “That also means you work hard and be thankful God has blessed us with the birds and dolphins to lead us to the tuna. Dismissed.”
    Rocha stood and looked down at Billy. “You stay here and help clean up. After that, report to the skiff. Understand right now, dude, you do what I tell you, and we get along okay. Got that?”
    “Sure. You’re the boss. I do what you say.”
    Benny liked dawn the best. There was always the expectation that the rising sun would bring something new into his life. His senses were fully alive to the sea and the vastness of the pink-tinted sky overhead. Benny’s fingers gripped the wheel lightly, feeling every nuance of Salvador ’s slow, steady passage through the rolling swells.
    This dawn, Benny Seeger was a happy man. Last night monitoring the radio, he had picked up a garbled transmission between Lucky Dragon and a tuna packer’s agent broadcast in some sort of company code. It was clear to Benny that Gandara was heading for Samoa to unload, and then on to the clipper’s traditional fishing grounds off Costa Rica. That bit of intelligence would save them weeks, maybe months, of searching.
    Sarah appeared next to the captain and handed him a mug of coffee. The rich smell of the filtered brew she had made brought Benny out of his musing and he said, “Not only do you raise money, but you make a hell of a cup of coffee.”
    “You taught me.”
    He sipped and moved away from the wide stainless steel wheel. “You take her. Steer zero-three-zero.”
    Sarah grasped the metal rim and stared into the dawn. Watching the sunrise together was a ritual they had come to enjoy these past weeks at sea. When he had finished his coffee she said, “Benny, you love this old boat, don’t you?”
    “I guess I do, but I wouldn’t be commanding her without you and your dad.”
    “And the hundreds of people who contributed to the foundation. And if I may, you should be writing your contribution to the foundation’s newsletter.”
    “Oh, yeah, the newsletter. You know what to say. Why don’t you write it for me?”
    Sarah gave Benny a look of annoyance and thought, Okay, cool it. He’s the captain and Benny has lot more to worry about than I do.
    She remembered her father’s advice before they sailed. “You grew up in a far different world from Captain Seeger or his crew. You’re a privileged child. And your father, he’s sort of famous and rich beyond what he ever