Broken Tide | Book 3 | Maelstrom

by Richardson, Marcus

  "Briggs, Johansen, get out here," barked the man with the megaphone from inside the truck.

  When no one appeared or answered, the gunner in the turret looked down and spoke to someone inside. Then he disappeared and the man with the megaphone took his place. "Ma'am, where are my men?"

  "They're not going to be bothering anybody anymore, that's where they are." Cami replied. She grimaced at the sound of fear that echoed through her words and hoped the soldiers were more occupied by the fact that two men had vanished.

  “I’ll give you five seconds to produce my soldiers, or we’ll open fire."

  Two men hopped down out of the back of the transport truck and raised rifles at Cami.

  "If you do that," Cami called out in a voice with a little more steel in it, "my people will open fire, and we’ll all die together."

  The man with the bullhorn suddenly looked a little less confident as he glanced around. He dropped into the turret and the gunner reappeared and set himself up behind the metal shield.

  "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation,” the leader’s amplified voice said through the tiny triangle shaped window of the armored truck. “Allow me to enlighten you."

  The gunner opened fire. Ka-chunk-ka-chunk-ka-chunk and clods of dirt and grass leapt into the air not ten feet from Cami.

  She squealed in fright and half-crouched behind the railing as dirt rained down around her. It took every ounce of willpower in her body to stand and not throw up into the yard. Her ears rung and her knees were weak, but she managed to stand up again.

  "You okay?" chirped the radio on her belt.

  "Yeah, I'm okay," she said quietly as she kept her eyes on the truck.

  "Tell them that wasn't very smart,” Marty instructed.

  "That wasn't very smart," Cami said. "Perhaps we should give you a demonstration as well."

  From Marty's house, a tremendous crash of thunder echoed immediately followed by the sharp clang of metal on metal, and a circle of daylight appeared in the metal shield that protected the gunner. The man yelped and dropped down into the turret.

  "Tell him next time he'll need a new gunner."

  Cami smiled as she relayed the message.

  In response, four more soldiers jumped out of the transport truck and took up position along the side of the big six-wheeled beast. All their rifles aimed at Cami.

  She swallowed and was about to speak when a shout went up from the other side of the road. Darien’s men made themselves known and flanked the soldiers in the road. They dropped their weapons at the sight of so many men with rifles trained on them from behind and raised their hands in defeat.

  She watched as Flynt walked the length of both vehicles and stood near the driver’s door of the armored truck. The door opened, and Flynt said something to the driver. The driver replied—whatever he said, Flynt didn't like, because he pulled a massive, chrome plated pistol from his waistband. He kept it aimed at the ground, but the threat was real enough that the driver’s door slammed shut.

  Flynt called out to his men, who stepped back into Cami's yard but kept their rifles trained on the soldiers. The soldiers scattered and climbed aboard the transport truck, then both vehicles shifted into reverse and backed painfully slow down the road toward the neighborhood entrance. Cami couldn't see through the small, armored windows of the lead vehicle, but she could well imagine the angry glare from the man who commanded the mission.

  Before the vehicles had reached the entrance to the neighborhood, Cami stalked across her driveway and confronted Flynt. "What was that about?" she said as she pointed at the trucks. "You let those guys get away? We had them dead to rights."

  Flynt looked at her calmly. "We did. You have enough food and water to take care of six prisoners? Do you have enough people to guard them and defend the neighborhood when the rest of their force shows up?" He waited for an answer, and when she didn't have one, other than a frown, he nodded. "Me neither. This was the best situation. I had to make a snap decision, and I made it. We got all their weapons—that’s six fully automatic M-4s.”

  Cami squinted at him in the failing light. “They have six less rifles now…”

  Flynt nodded. “And they have six guys that are now a burden on them. Without weapons, they can't fight, and if they can't fight, they’re just using up supplies."

  Cami looked at Flynt in a new light. "You know, that makes a certain amount of sense," she admitted.

  Flynt puffed his considerable chest out and grinned. "Thank you,” he said with a smile.

  "Now what do we do?"

  "Now, I suggest we split the rifles between our two groups and get back to our own bases. I need to make sure Harriet's house is hardened for attack, and you guys should do the same. Get your weapons ready and let's agree to meet a little later.”

  “We should set up roadblocks,” Cami suggested.

  "Good idea," he replied.

  “I’ll get the word out through the neighborhood,” she added. “We can get cars from several houses to block the road—although I don't know if cars will stop that big monster from getting in."

  Flynt shook his head. “Probably not, but I tell you what, I'm gonna steal that bad boy."

  Cami laughed. “You're crazy.”

  "Maybe,” replied Flynt. “But I think we might all need to be a little crazy to survive this."

  Chapter 25

  Sailing Vessel Intrepid

  Off the coast of Long Island

  Four miles west of Port Jefferson

  Reese looked up from Intrepid’s wheel. The white mainsail glowed in moonlight. He grimaced. It would be a beacon to anyone on shore that cared to look.

  "I don't see anything," Jo said from amidships. She held one hand up to block the wind that buffeted them so close to shore. "Didn’t you say he’s supposed to be around here somewhere?"

  "I did…by my back of the napkin navigation, we're due west of the camp now.”

  "I wish there was a way he could signal us…” Jo said.

  Reese grimaced. In their haste to come up with a plan to escape the National Guard camp, he and Tony hadn’t thought about a way for Tony to signal the rescue boats offshore.

  "Wait a minute…” Jo said. "Is…is that a fire? Right there," she said as she pointed.

  Reese was grateful for the moonlight—without it he wouldn't have been able to see her just ten feet in front of him. He squinted across the open water toward the shoreline and frowned. "I don't see—wait a minute. It is a fire!”

  He snatched the radio from the cradle by the Intrepid’s wheel just as Byron's voice crackled over the little speaker. "I think that's him! There's a fire straight off to port. You see it?"

  "We do," Reese replied with a smile.

  "You hold position out here, we’ll go pick him up," Byron said.

  “Roger that, good luck,” Reese replied. He hung up the radio and called out to Jo. "Hey, let those lines go up there, we gotta drop the sail.”

  "Okay fine, but there's a lot of rocks up there next to the shore. Does he know that?" Jo asked as she watched Tiberia peel off from their little formation and angle toward the shore.

  Reese pulled up the mini binoculars that hung from a cord around his neck. It was hard to focus the picture with such limited light, but the foam that sprayed up around the half-submerged rocks just offshore glowed in the moonlight—an unmistakable hazard. He lowered the binoculars and the rocks all but disappeared. "You got crazy good vision, you know that?" he said to Jo as he grabbed the radio. “Tiberia, abort, abort! There's rocks close to the shore, your sailing into a hazard!"

  Reese watched and held his breath as Tiberia continued on her course, then turned at the last minute and tacked back out to their position.

  "That was close…” Byron said over the radio. "I can't get any closer…we saw him! We actually saw him waving at us…”

  "We can get a little closer…maybe he can swim out to us,” Reese suggested.

  He squinted at the rocky sho
reline and calculated his chances. Tony had risked his life to complete the diversion so they could all escape. He’d promised the young man he’d be there to pick him up.

  “How can we get close enough to him?” Reese asked the wind.

  “More importantly, are those headlights?” Jo asked.

  “Crap...” Reese yanked the mic back to his mouth and forgot about protocol. “Byron! Tony’s got company! I see headlights up the hill from the shore. I think the Guard found him.”

  “They must have seen the fire he started…” Byron groused.

  Reese’s decision had been made for him. He wasn’t about to let the Guard get ahold of Tony—not after the stunt they’d pulled in their escape. It would be nothing short of a death sentence.

  “Raise the sail,” he barked at Jo. “We’re going in.”

  “What are you doing?” demanded Byron when he spotted Intrepid angle in toward the shore.

  “You know how when we first met you didn’t think I was a sailor?”

  “I still don’t,” grumbled Byron’s voice over the speaker.

  “Well, it’s time I proved you wrong.” He switched the radio off to avoid unnecessary distraction. The maneuver he was about to pull would be the trickiest of his sailing career. He needed to thread the needle between the rocks close to the shore and stay out of range of the Guard troops who’d crested the hill and started down toward the beach where Tony stood with his arms in the air.

  Intrepid, overloaded with the machine gun and all the supports the soldiers had installed, plowed through the chop with all the grace of an icebreaker. Reese mourned the sleek swiftness that he’d first encountered when he’d taken the wheel, for it was long gone. Intrepid sailed like a brick.

  The deck heeled over, and Jo squealed from amidships. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time!” she hollered into the wind.

  Reese laughed as his hair whipped in the salt spray. “Just hang on!”

  He kept a tight course and drove straight in toward the shore. The immediate coastline was shaped like a very shallow semi-circle. Reese waited until the rocks were mere yards away before he pulled the halyards loose and let the wind out of the mainsail as he turned.

  He had to time it just right so they could maintain momentum, but slow down enough that Tony could swim out to the boat. “Come on!” he yelled into the wind. “Swim to us!”

  Tony hopped from foot to foot and waved his shirt over his head to get their attention.

  “He hasn’t seen the soldiers yet!” Jo warned. She pointed up the hill. Flashlights lanced through the night as a squad of at least five men worked their way down the hill through the trees toward the beach.

  “I can’t get us any closer…” Reese said. He pulled the lanyard, and the mainsail dropped all the way. “That will kill our momentum, but if he doesn’t get in the water, we’re going to get caught in the current and pulled into those rocks!” He hit the button to start the engine and hoped the little motor would be strong enough to keep Intrepid from drifting too close to shore.

  “Come on, kid…”

  The first gunshot from up the hill startled Tony into the water. Reese watched in horror as the soldiers lined up through the trees and took pot shots at the figure on the beach. The muzzle flashes were like little points of light that occurred a few seconds before the reports from the rifles rolled across the water.

  “Swim!” Jo yelled, as she leaned dangerously out over the starboard railing. She looked back at Reese, her eyes white in the moonlight. “He’s not going to make it!”

  Reese looked at Tony, now chest deep in the freezing water. He flailed his arms against the current and struggled to reach the rocks, but the soldiers had shifted into a run and sprinted down the hill through the trees. Every so often one of the dark shapes would pause and take a shot, which illuminated the others in a muzzle flash.

  “There’s nothing more we can do,” Reese said.

  “We’ll see about that,” Jo growled. She clambered up to the machine gun turret and racked the charging bolt back with a vicious jerk. “Let’s see how you like this, you sons of—“

  Her voice disappeared into the thunder that erupted from the barrel of the M2 Browning mounted on the forward deck. Reese flinched and covered his ears against the tremendous noise. Jo screamed and raked the shoreline with fire. Reese stared—it looked like a dragon had come to life on Intrepid’s deck and blasted flame at the figures on the shore.

  Two soldiers fell, tugged to the ground as if on strings, when the big rounds slammed into them at hypersonic speeds. The incoming fire lit up the beach and shredded the bushes and trees that lined the shore. Stray rounds sparked off rocks and a few tracers bounced up into the sky like fireworks. Jo laughed maniacally and continued to pour fire onto the soldiers.

  Tony splashed through the water and made it through the rocks. Jo was relentless and chased the retreating soldiers on the beach with her fire. Another one dropped to the ground, and the survivors hid behind trees and returned ineffective fire. When a stray bullet clipped the boom next to Reese’s head, he’d had enough.

  Tony was close enough to catch the life preserver, so Reese tied a long rope to one, then flung it out as far as he could. “Grab that!” he yelled. Tony raised a hand in thanks and dragged his body through the water toward the ring.

  “Keep the pressure on,” Reese yelled to Jo when she paused in her efforts to deforest the shoreline.

  “I’ll have to reload in a minute,” she warned. The barrel glowed orange in the night, but Reese saw the grin on her face and a shiver went down his spine.

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he muttered as he turned his attention back to Tony, some twenty yards out. The soldiers on the beach took Jo’s break to heart and fired back. Bullets sparked off the mast and kicked up foam in the water.

  Reese kept his hand on the throttle until he saw Tony wrap his arm through the ring and wave. He dipped below a wave and bobbed back to the surface but waved again. Reese threw the throttle forward and Intrepid picked up speed against the current. He spun the wheel to head out to the Sound and present the smallest possible target to the men on the beach. After a few seconds, Jo and the machine gun swung out of line and she disengaged and left the glowing, smoking weapon.

  She clambered across the deck back to the wheel and grabbed the taut line connected to Tony and the life preserver. “He’s still back there!”

  “Start pulling him in, we have to get as far out as possible!” Reese said. He ducked as a bullet pinged off the mast. “We’re still in range!”

  Jo didn’t respond but grunted as she began the laborious process of hauling Tony toward Intrepid while the current tried to pull him to shore. He tried to keep his head above the water but every third wave dunked him and he disappeared for a second until the life preserver popped him back up to the surface.

  Reese tied the wheel to maintain their course back toward Tiberia and turned around to help Jo. “Come on, we can work together. Ready?” he asked as he took the wet rope in his hands. The water tugged on Tony and the line felt like a piece of steel. “Heave!” he hollered and they both pulled back. “Heave!” He called out again. They quickly fell into a rhythm where Jo leaned forward and pulled in more rope when Reese pulled back, then he took the slack when she pulled, and they kept a continuous pressure on the line.

  Pull by pull, Tony grew closer as Intrepid motored further offshore. A last desultory pop echoed off the beach, and the fight was over. “Hang in there!” Reese called as Tony came within a few yards of the aft rail.

  “You’re almost…here,” Jo called around a deep breath.

  The water grew choppier the further off-shore they pulled, and Reese began to worry that Tony wouldn’t be able to keep his head above the surface. He killed the throttle and let Intrepid drift while they finished the rescue.

  Jo laughed as they pulled Tony, sopping wet and shivering, over the starboard rail. Reese tossed the life preserver aside and helped ease T
ony to the deck. Jo scurried down the ladder below decks and emerged a moment later with a big government issue emergency blanket that she draped over the young man’s shoulders.

  Reese took a knee next to the younger man and caught his breath. “That was…that was exciting, huh?” he asked with a grin as he gripped Tony’s shoulder.

  “N-n-n-next time,” Tony sputtered, as water pooled under him on the deck, “y-y-y-you do it!”

  Reese laughed and moved back to the wheel after a final clap on Tony’s shoulder. “We’ll make a sailor out of you yet!” He unhooked the rope that held the wheel on course and looked around to get his bearings. They’d come almost half a mile offshore and Byron had angled Tiberia to intercept them a little further out in the Sound.

  He unhooked the radio and flipped it on. “Tiberia, Intrepid—we have an extra passenger.”

  “Thank God!” Byron cried. “That was incredible!”

  “Well,” Reese said with a grin as he watched Jo tend to Tony, “I don’t think your nephew would agree with that, but he made it.”

  “Is he hurt?” asked Byron.

  Reese could well imagine the older couple had watched the rescue mission with breathless anxiety. “He’s fine—a little water-logged and cold from his swim, but nothing a good rest can’t fix.” He eyed Tiberia’s position by the white sail, illuminated in the moonlight. “Hold your course, Tiberia, we’ll come alongside shortly.”

  “Roger that, Intrepid. Holding course.”

  It only took Reese a few minutes to get the mainsail hoisted—with a few new bullet holes—and pull Intrepid closer to the other boat. Before Tony had even pulled himself off the deck, Reese had parked Intrepid next to Tiberia and he and Byron tied the two vessels together. Libby was the first over the railing and rushed to her nephew’s side.

  “Thank you,” Byron said as he gave Reese a handshake that transformed into a bear hug. “That boy is the only family I have left…I don’t know what I would have done without him…”

  “You would’ve done the same if it had been me or Jo on the shore,” Reese said.