“Gnaeus!” I called, swaying and lurching with the ship. “Break starboard! Head for the pirates!”
“Are you…”
“Argh, do it ye matey!” Santino yelled, taking the wheel in his hands and helping Gnaeus turn the ship.
I heard another loud boom from in front of us, and realized our snipers had already started shooting. I stumbled toward the bow with my hands shielding my eyes from the incoming rain, slid beside Helena, and placed a hand on her lower back, alerting her to my arrival.
“Hitting anything??” I yelled around the rain.
“No clue!” She yelled back. “But we must be hitting something! They don’t seem happy!”
I smiled as I looked out over the roiling water, seeing nothing, but realizing that the superstitious pirates must have thought their dead to have been struck down by Jove himself.
Wang ran up to kneel on the other side of Helena, shielding his own face with a hand. “We don’t exactly have the ammunition for ‘no clue’ kind of shooting, you know!”
“Shut up, Wang,” I yelled. “Let her work!”
“Go back to playing doctor!” She yelled.
“I’ll remember that the next time you get stabbed.” He paused. “Again.”
I winced at the comment, but Helena reached out and punched him in the ribs. He yelped and rose to his feet to join Bordeaux and Vincent near the starboard railing, while I heard a shot ring out from Cuyler to my left. Like the bow canons on a British man-of-war naval frigate in the eighteenth century, Helena and Cuyler continued to deliver punishing shots at the enemy in front of us.
But it wasn’t enough. We needed a better plan. I looked back and scanned the deck, seeing for the first time as dozens of legionnaires in full combat gear assembled neatly into rows, using each other for balance, a centurion barking orders for them to stay in formation. I noticed Gaius and Marcus among them and left Helena to catch up to them.
“What’s going on??” I yelled, listening to the rhythmic pelting of rain striking the metallic armor they wore.
Marcus tilted his head at me, causing his helmet to slip to the side. He lifted it back into position and ran a hand down his face, fruitlessly trying to wipe it dry.
“Is it not obvious, Hunter?” He yelled back at me.
I looked at the legionnaires that held formation beside me again, but then turned back to Marcus and looked at him with an impatient look. “No!”
“I thought you were a man of history, Hunter!” Gaius remarked. “You do know just how well our navies handle themselves, correct?”
Both he and Marcus smiled at me.
Of course I knew. I just hadn’t realized it until now. Rome’s navy had been the greatest of its day, but it wasn’t because of any naval strategy or technologically advanced ship. In fact, their ships were just copies of those invented by other nations, but they were the best because they had adapted their acumen at land based warfare, and applied it to naval warfare. Their main naval tactic was to pull alongside an opposing ship, drop some kind of anchor to attach the two together, and board it. They would then let their unrivaled sword fighting do the rest.
Genius really.
I returned their smiles as realization set it, then craned my neck to look over their shoulders to study the enemy fleet formation. There were four ships dead ahead, two directly astern, and another two off to port. I didn’t see what else we could do besides get close to the four in front of us, and shoot as many of them as we could before the Romans took care of the rest. Blood was bound to be spilt on both sides, but that was war, and I couldn’t think of another option.
“Hunter!” The voice was loud, even over the roar of the storm. I looked to discover its source, but the weather kept me from locating it. I tried again but then gave up, turning back to look out over the water to await the coming battle.
“Hunter!” The voice yelled out again, but this time Archer came running through the gathered legionnaires in my direction. I reached out and gripped his shoulder as he came up to me, leaning in close so that we could better hear each other.
“What?”
“Why are you just standing here?” He yelled. “Let’s take them out!”
“Unless you brought a few missiles with you, I have no idea how!”
He looked at me sourly. “What? I thought you were a SEAL!”
“Yeah, like five years ago! I don’t know…”
“Come on!” He yelled, yanking my arm.
I stumbled after him as he led me to the stairs that led below deck. Legionnaires stood there, awaiting their turn up top should a comrade fall, and we had to push through them to reach the ship’s interior. They slowed us down, but finally we made our way to the lower deck where the rain vanished and I could finally hear myself think again.
I stopped for a second to open my jaw and pop my ears, hoping to dislodge a bit of water that seemed to have gathered there. It remained stubborn until I tugged on my earlobe and pounded the opposite side of my head with my palm, and with one last shake, I felt clarity return.
I ran to catch up with Archer, finding him in our makeshift armory, which was a mess after the rocking ship had knocked down a number of boxes, some breaking open to spill their contents onto the deck. Archer was digging through one such overturned box, and I found myself growing concerned for his sanity.
“Archer, what are you…”
“Strip, Hunter.”
“What?”
“Strip!” He said more emphatically, twisting at the waist to glare at me.
I really had no idea what he was up to, but I pulled my shirt over my head all the same.
“I really had no idea you were into me like this, Archer, but…”
“Just shut up, and hold this.”
I’d just unbuckled my belt when Archer threw two small backpacks at me. I unzipped one of them and peeked inside to find a large explosive.
A powerful one.
My pants fell around my ankles. “Wait… you’re not thinking about…”
Archer shot to his feet and pulled his own shirt off. “That’s right, Hunter. We’re going for a swim.”
He kicked off his boots and pulled off his pants, and made his way top side in nothing but his compression shorts. I looked down at my smiley faced boxers and winced. I’d picked a bad day to wear them.
I ran to catch up.
“Archer, wait. I haven’t been an active SEAL in over five years. I can’t go swimming in a storm like this. And my side. I don’t have full mobil…”
“Quit your whining,” Archer said. “You can make it. Don’t you want to save lives, or not?”
I stopped as Archer reached the first Romans blocking our way. I did want to save lives. Of course I did.
But like this?
“But I’m going to lose my favorite boxer shorts!”
“Not my problem,” he yelled. “Let’s go.”
“I’m going to make it your problem…” I mumbled as I pushed through the Romans.
Off to my left, I caught sight of Artie as she was waving to catch my attention.
“What are you doing, Jacob?” She asked, glancing at my exposed lower half then up again.
“It’s really best you didn’t know,” I called back.
“Tell me you’re not going in the water!”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” I said, just before I was swept away by the sea of soldiers and toward the steps.
Once above deck, I noticed Archer speaking with Gaius and Marcus, who seconds later ran off. I made my way carefully toward him, noting that the waves seemed even worse now, but before I arrived, he was already running toward the port railing. I finally caught up with him a few seconds later, and reached out to grip the railing to steady me. Together, we looked out at the pair of ships that had maneuvered to sit just a hundred meters or so away while we’d been below deck.
“So this is your plan?” I yelled. “Just swim over there blind, plant a bomb, and then swim back?”
“There
was a bit more to it than that, honestly,” Archer commented, looking over his shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw Gaius and Marcus returning with huge rolls of rope coiled around their arms. Gaius handed an end to Archer, who immediately went to work tying it around his waist.
“Oh, this is much better,” I commented as Marcus handed me my own rope. I grunted in frustration but took it, and tied it around my waist as well.
“Like your plans are ever much better, Hunter!” Archer yelled.
“Yeah,” I said, “but my plans are shit, not insane!
“Deal with it,” Archer said before taking a seat on the railing and rolling backward off of it and into the water. I didn’t even hear a splash. I turned and gave Marcus a hard look and pointed a finger at him.
“Do not tell Helena!”
He nodded vigorously as he held onto the other end of my rope, knowing better than to tell Helena anything at all. I gave him another frustrated look, but then leapt onto the railing and pushed off of it with a foot, diving far out into the water.
I hit like a knife slicing into a bowl of frozen yogurt, which was an apt analogy since the first sensation that hit me was the cold. It seemed freezing, but my mind knew it wasn’t quite. The next sensation, one I was mostly prepared for, was the intensity of the tide and savagery of the currents. It was like swimming through an active ice cream maker. Every stroke I took was a strenuous endeavor, and after only a few dozen meters of swimming, fatigue had already set in.
But I kept swimming, working hard to keep Archer in sight ahead of me and my body near the surface. It was hard with the rolling waves, but I didn’t want to go too low for fear of some sub-current whisking me off course. But this was what Navy SEALs were trained for. Sure, we took part in land battles and operations in every imaginable environment, and while other military units trained underwater as well, this is what we did. We logged more hours in the water than any other operator on the planet, and while I never thought I’d ever need to free swim in a storm like this one, that training was paying off now. Any lesser man would have been swept away, but my powerful lungs and well-honed swimming muscles, albeit underused ones, guided me straight and true.
Archer suddenly broke off to the right, but I kept going straight, pushing myself harder and harder when, finally, my hand smacked into the hull of my target ship. I was exhausted and out of breath, and forced myself to breach the water to find air. It was a struggle just to do that, and once above the water line, I found myself in a maelstrom of rain and waves and wind. It was a hellish environment and I could barely move, but I still had a job to do. With quick but methodic motions, I reached into my bag and removed the explosive. I held it in my left hand and reached back in to grab a tube of waterproof epoxy. I slathered it on haphazardly, threw the tube into the sea, and attached the explosive to the hull.
I was spent as I pressed it against the ship, but with a last burst of energy, I yanked on my rope, hoping Marcus felt the sudden tug. I grew lightheaded as I waited, struggling to breathe, but then I thought I felt myself being dragged through the water gently. A moment later, the rope around my waist seemed to tighten, and I was certain Marcus had received my message. Within minutes I was back at the ship and being pulled up from the water, two large, meaty hands picking me up and over the railing like he was reeling in a large trout.
I looked up and saw Bordeaux standing over me.
“You are the craziest man I have ever met, Hunter!” He exclaimed
I smiled and glanced to my left, seeing that Archer was just now being pulled from the ocean himself. He looked at me, panting for air as well, and nodded.
“Beat you!” I yelled, but then realized that the rain was starting to wear itself down, and that it was simply the pounding in my head from the swim that caused my diminished hearing ability. Archer smirked at me in good humor, and reached out a hand. Gaius placed something there, but then he extended Archer to me. I took it, recognized it, and then held it out for Bordeaux. “Care to do the honors, explosion boy?”
He smiled, took the detonator, and pressed the button. A pair of booms and fireballs went off behind me, and I turned my neck painfully to see one of the huge plumes of fire spread up into the rainy air, and the ship begin to capsize. The other did the same.
Bordeaux helped me off the railing, and I was thankful since I wasn’t sure I could have done it on my own. The entire operation had taken no more than eight minutes, but I felt like I’d just run a marathon. I looked up at the large Frenchman and smacked his arm, his massive bicep as hard as a rock through his wet shirt.
“Does this mean we’re friends again?” I asked.
“We never weren’t, Jacob,” He said, his voice apologetic as he dropped his head, “Je suis désolé, mon ami.”
“Nothing to apologize for, big guy. We all make mistakes.”
He looked up but said nothing more, and I took his silence in stride and looked out over the deck. What I saw there was disheartening: a number of corpses lined along the starboard railing, some with blankets already covering their bodies. There were at least two dozen lying there, but as I looked up, I was at least comforted by the sight of the remaining pirate ships breaking off as the storm continued to calm.
“What happened?” I asked.
Bordeaux started to answer, but was interrupted by Helena leaping off the bow deck in our direction. She looked at me, clearly startled at what she was seeing.
“Jacob!” She yelled, rain sputtering from her lips, her hair matted flat. “What happened to you?” She looked down. “And what happened to your clothes??”
I looked at my lower half, finally taking notice of the fact that my fears had been confirmed, and that I’d lost my favorite boxer shorts. A low laugh escaped my lips, too tired to be embarrassed, while Bordeaux looked away sheepishly as he too realized my plight, and took a step backward before rushing below deck.
I watched him go but answered Helena’s question by nodding my head toward the burning ships that were just now beginning to sink below the water line. She looked over my shoulder, but didn’t seem to understand what I meant.
“What happened here?” I asked, trying to distract her before she actually figured it out.
She crossed her arms and shook her head, obviously confused.
“The pirates never came close enough for hand to hand combat,” she said, not having to yell quite as loudly anymore, “but they pulled in close enough to throw spears at us, and hit a few legionnaires from what I’ve heard, but mostly members of the crew. It looked like they were about ready to board when suddenly they broke off.” She gestured at the burning ships. “I suppose we have you to thank for that.”
“It was Archer’s idea,” I clarified.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, before stepping aside as Bordeaux returned with a pair of pants. He held them out and I took them, embarrassment finally settling in.
One side of Helena’s lips tugged upward, and she said, “Why don’t you give us a minute, Bordeaux? Someone’s got to help him put his clothes back on…”
The hulking Frenchman nodded awkwardly, and quickly stepping away, giving me the space I needed to get dressed. I stepped a leg into the pants and looked up at Helena.
“I’m sorry, Helena, but it all happened so fast. Archer and I were really the only two options. No one else…”
“It’s all right, Jacob,” she said, reaching out a hand and placing it on my chest. She leaned in and kissed me tenderly, and then pulled away with a small smile. “I understand. You probably saved a lot of lives.”
I looked back at the bodies as I clasped the pants around my waist and zipped up the fly. “But not all of them.”
“Hey,” she said softly, placing her hand against my cheek, the rain no more than a drizzle now. “It wasn’t your fault. You did more than enough, believe me.”
She leaned in and kissed me again, and wrapped her arms around my neck. I put my left hand against her lower back and held her, but the comfort I felt at words wa
s miniscule. She clung to me there for some time, until Santino wandered over and coughed into his hand. I looked at him and no longer saw the pirate persona that had been ever-present since the beginning of the trip, but instead saw my friend in a way I rarely saw him.
He looked just as tired and beaten down as the rest of us.
“Hey, John,” I called tiredly.
He didn’t say anything at first, content to simply stare at me blankly.
“There’s something you should see,” he finally said, waving a hand for me to follow.
I nodded and Helena was already pulling away. She gave me a small smile, and I returned it before taking her hand and leading her to follow Santino. We passed by the few dozen bodies on the deck, and I watched as those Romans who had lost friends, spend a few minutes presiding over their fallen comrades’ corpses. Everywhere else, crewmen were scampering here and there, cleaning up blood, readying to make sail again, and surveying damage, but Santino ignored all this and continued his patrol, heading toward the stern. He climbed the steps slowly, using the railing to balance himself as he ascended to the bridge, while Helena and I followed, hand in hand, wondering what was wrong.
We reached the top and found our pair of teams gathered there in a circle, but I was too tired and there were too many people these days for me to perform a snap head count. Santino took an open spot in the circle while Helena and I shambled closer, and that’s when I noticed the body on the ground. Helena stopped walking the second she noticed it, but I was transfixed by the sight of it, and against my better judgment, knew I had to see who it was. Vaguely aware of everyone’s eyes on me as I drifted toward the body, I knelt beside it and gripped the blanket.
I let out a breath and carefully pulled it back.
Recognition set in immediately, and my lower lip started to quiver.
His eyes were open but lifeless, staring up into the night sky as rain continued to sprinkle onto his face, an old and tired one that I’d never seen look so frightened and concerned as it did right now, as though he’d seen death approaching. I squeezed my own eyes shut and lowered my head as the tears came, no longer sure I could continue looking at Vincent’s lifeless corpse without losing it completely.
Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion Page 15
