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Just then, there had been another loud boom—a bomb going off, for sure. This boom was more muffled than the first, coming from across the hall or maybe the other side of the ship.
Sirens sounded in the hallway, and then a man’s voice came over the public address system, saying, “Crew to emergency stations.” It was repeated several times.
Yuki’s mother would say, “Find your husband, Yuki-eh. Go to your husband.”
No kidding. Where was he?
Yuki had pulled on a robe and gone to the windows. She’d spotted a number of small boats, visible in the still-light night sky of Alaska. The boats were motoring at high speed toward the ship.
Yuki remembered feeling pure gratitude.
Thank God. Help was coming.
Help was on the way.
CHAPTER 55
AS YUKI SAT on the Pool Deck with hundreds of other passengers, shivering in her thin nightclothes, and not just from the cold night air, she remembered how right after she had seen the boats through her window, the public-address system had come to life again, this time squealing as if it were in pain.
Then she’d heard the uninflected voice of the captain.
“Dear guests, this is Captain Berlinghoff. As you have noticed, there has been a disturbance, but there is nothing to worry about, I assure you we are getting everything under control. We will be escorting you to public rooms. Please cooperate with your cabin stewards and stay calm. We are safe, absolutely safe. I repeat…”
What kind of disturbance?
The small boats had been closing on the flank of the ship. From her windows, forty feet above the waterline, she hadn’t seen any faces. But then she’d seen guns.
Was the Navy coming to investigate the explosions? A sharp pang of fear had shot through her mind like a bullet. Pirates! Maybe those men were pirates!
But that couldn’t be. There were no pirates in this part of the world. This was the United States.
About then, smoke had begun curling through the air-conditioning vents.
Was the ship on fire? Was it even safe to leave?
Oh, God, what was happening? Where was Brady?
She had looked for her cell phone and finally found it wedged under the night stand, but before she could turn it on, there had been a loud knock at the door.
“Mr. and Mrs. Brady. It’s Lyle.”
Yuki had looked through the peephole and seen their cabin steward, his eyes so round that there was a circle of white all the way around his irises. She’d opened the door.
“Mrs. Brady. You have to go to the Veranda Lounge.”
She had asked, “Have you seen my husband?”
“No ma’am. When did you see him last?”
She’d had a lot to drink last night, and Brady had tucked her in early.
Behind Lyle, people wearing life vests filled the corridor, streaming toward the stairs, their faces wrinkled with sleep and naked with fear.
“What’s happening?” she’d asked. “Is the ship on fire? Are we under attack?”
“I don’t know anything, Mrs. Brady. Put on your life vest,” said Lyle, “and hurry to the Veranda Deck. Take the stairs.”
“No, wait.”
