VENGEANCE REAWAKENED

by Fredrick L. Stafford

  Molka rose from the pilot seat and moved to the gear bags. “Let’s see what’s happening at the Cardoza estate tonight.” She unzipped one, removed both sets of binoculars, and handed the other set to Nathan. With the moon up and Cardoza’s estate ablaze in lights, the night vision goggles would not be needed.

  Molka sat back down and scanned the rear of Cardoza’s main house.

  Nathan did the same.

  Molka counted three black-clad, AK-47 armed guards at the ready. “I guess you see what I see.”

  “Yes,” Nathan said.

  “You probably know better than me. What’s the effective range of an AK-47?”

  “I believe it's listed at about 350 meters.”

  “So, the actual is about half of that?”

  “More or less, and probably less at night with no optics.”

  “Ok,” Molka said. “Let’s make sure we stay at least 175 offshore to be safe.”

  “Good idea.”

  Molka scanned down the hill from the back of the house to the also well-lit boathouse. In the right-hand slip and ready for departure floated Cardoza’s gold, ultra-sleek, 40-foot race-style boat.

  Moments later, an outboard motor’s distant whine drew Molka and Nathan’s attention. Behind them—approaching from the south shore—cruised a white, 25-foot open fisherman powered by a large outboard. A binocular scan revealed the boat to be occupied by three males with a fishing rod in a rod holder beside each.

  The boat passed behind Molka and Nathan at a distance of about 30 meters, continued on for about another 100 meters, cut power, and drifted to a stop about 150 meters from Cardoza’s boathouse. Then they tossed out an anchor and cast their fishing rods.

  Molka lowered her binoculars and frowned. “An entire empty lake to fish on, and they have to anchor right there.”

  Nathan lowered his binoculars. “Maybe the rental guy gave them the same fishing spot tip.”

  “Maybe. And if they hang around, they’re going to have a much more interesting story to tell than lying about the size of the fish they didn’t catch.”

  Nathan chuckled and viewed his watch. “We got here faster than I thought.”

  Molka viewed her watch: 9:34 PM.

  Nathan exhaled. “So…should we spend the next 25-plus-minutes sitting here quietly and think about what we have to do tonight?”

  “Well,” Molka said, “I might spend the next 25-plus-minutes sitting here quietly and think about what we have to do tonight. But you’ll probably do that while at the same time figure out how to finally harness fusion power and cleanly and efficiently solve the world’s energy problems.”

  Nathan chuckled again. “You’re so funny, dear heart. Or…we could spend the time dishing on our mutual boss lady. Don’t you think Raziela can be very passive-aggressive?”

  “Yes. I’ve noticed that.”

  “It’s like, when she puts on that fakey, overly jovial smile, she’s about to hit you with a passive-aggressive insult.”

  “I think that might be a trick she learned from her psychology background.”

  “How do you feel about working for her?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Molka said. “I just started. By the way, how did she recruit you in one day?”

  “Actually,” Nathan said. “She began recruiting me when she was here last month. She told me about the program and how my military training in the paratroopers made me an excellent candidate. I don’t even know how she found out about that.”

  Molka smirked. “The Counsel has a list of people like you they want and go after aggressively.”

  “Really? Well, I agreed to listen to her sales pitch about the program to be polite, hoping she would leave me alone. I mean, I’m patriotic…to a point. But like I said, I live a nice quiet life and don’t like confrontation. She told me why they needed people like me. And I was sympathetic to the problem, and I told her I might be interested. Which I wasn’t really. Again, I was being polite, hoping she would leave me alone. But that made her happy, and she said she needed to run a background check on me first. And then she left, and I didn’t think I would ever see her again. But she came back and here I am.”

  “How many tasks did you agree to complete?”

  “Just this one,” Nathan said.

  Molka’s eyebrows rose. “A one-off? I didn’t know they allowed such things.”

  “I don’t think I could handle more than one. And when this is over with, I’m going to crawl back into my cozy, safe, little embassy cubicle and keep my head down very low so that the next time some Counsel recruiter comes sniffing around looking for suckers, they won’t be able to—what’s wrong?”

  Nathan noticed Molka had raised her binoculars to the eastern sky.

  Nathan did the same.

  They both viewed a propeller-driven aircraft approaching the lake at a sharp dive.

  “Am I crazy,” Nathan said, “or is that thing about to crash into this lake?”

  “Unless it lands first,” Molka said.

  Closer inspection showed a red and white, medium-sized, twin-engine seaplane with dual float undercarriage.

  The seaplane continued its steep descent, leveled off to about 10 meters as it came over the lake, and made a gentle landing on the smooth surface.

  Wake streamed off the twin floats as the aircraft taxied the lake’s length, turned around a few dozen meters from the opposite shore, and cut power.

  “That was somewhat impressive,” Nathan said. “I wonder who it belongs to?”

  “Probably a rich lake house dweller,” Molka said. “Why drive two hours from Rio when you can fly here in 30-minutes.”

  Molka and Nathan resumed their binocular observation of the Cardoza estate in silence.

  At 10:14 PM, Cardoza led the Kozlov brothers from the mansion’s rear glass doors and across the pool deck. All wore open-collar dress shirts and dress pants.

  Nathan said, “Those other two guys are middle-aged and out of shape. That’s who he’s taking with him?”

  “Must be,” Molka said. “The three rear guards haven’t moved.”

  Cardoza and the Kozlov brothers walked down the stairs toward the boathouse.

  “They’re not carrying weapons either,” Nathan said. “At least not anything visible.”

  “But let’s assume they’re armed,” Molka said. “And act with appropriate caution.”

  “Agreed.”

  Cardoza and the Kozlovs boarded the boat. A moment later, the two powerful motors started and grumbled.

  The younger Kozlov cast off the lines, and Cardoza backed the boat from the slip and swung it around at high speed. When the boat’s bow pointed toward the lake’s center, Cardoza buried the throttles and—with a high whine—the boat jumped forward and flew across the lake.

  As Cardoza started his first high-speed lap, Molka and Nathan moved to the gear bags. Molka opened the box of flex-cuffs and stuffed two sets into each of her back pockets while Nathan ripped four mouth-sized strips of black duct tape from the roll and stuck two each on Molka’s sleeves. He then retrieved the two Benelli M4 tactical shotguns and handed one to Molka.

  Molka rechecked the loaded weapon to make sure it was safe and slung it across her back.

  Nathan did the same.

  Molka started the little 80HP outboard.

  Nathan pulled up the anchor.

  Molka pushed the throttle shift control forward.

  Nathan kept watch on Cardoza starting his second lap.

  Molka moved the boat forward to within about 100 meters of the boathouse while maintaining about 175 meters offshore and then put the motor in neutral and left it running.

  They watched Cardoza complete laps three and four.

  At lap five’s end—approximately 300 meters from the boathouse—Cardoza took the boat off plane, quickly slowed to idling speed, and cruised toward the boathouse.

  “Here we go,” Molka said.

  She pushed the throttle forward again.

  Cardoza was about 20
0 meters from crossing their path.

  Molka kept eyes on the gold hull glowing in the moonlight.

  Keep coming, Cardoza.

  Cardoza was about 150 meters from crossing their path.

  Don’t worry about us. We’re just night fishers.

  Cardoza was about 100 meters from crossing their path.

  And this is a well-known fishing spot.

  Cardoza was about 50 meters from crossing their path.

  You’ve probably seen people fishing here many nights.

  Nathan said, “Look, our friends are leaving.”

  Molka viewed the white fishing boat about 100 meters away coming toward them, and then her attention lasered back to Cardoza.

  Cardoza was about 10 meters from crossing their path.

  Just keep coming, Cardoza.

  Cardoza crossed in front of them at a distance of five meters.

  He waved at them without really looking.

  Molka and Nathan pulled down their hoods.

  Molka pushed the throttle forward, cut hard to starboard, caught up to Cardoza, slowed, and ran alongside him at a one-meter gap.

  Nathan sprung up and pointed the shotgun at the trio and yelled:

  “Shut off the boat!”

  “Raise your hands!”

  The shock-faced, non-Portuguese speaking Kozlov brothers remained motionless.

  Cardoza’s moonlit face, facing the shotgun, terrorized.

  Nathan yelled again:

  “Shut off the boat!”

  “Raise your hands!”

  “NOW!”

  Cardoza shut off the motors.

  His hands started to raise.

  BROOOAARRRR!

  The white boat roared to full-throttle and aimed straight at Cardoza’s port side from about 40 meters away.

  Cardoza side glanced at the new threat, rapidly re-started the motors, and slammed the throttles forward.

  The twin-motors roared, the bow rose—and with a churning, violent wake—the gold boat shot forward and sped toward the boathouse.

  Before Nathan and Molka could react to the escape, they reacted to the imminent collision threat from the white boat 20 meters away now aimed at their port side.

  Molka went to full power.

  The white boat banked hard to starboard.

  Collision avoided by less than two meters.

  The white boat sped on toward the lake’s center.

  Molka yelled after them:

  “We had him!”

  “You idiots!”

  She turned the boat back toward Cardoza’s boathouse.

  Nathan moved beside her. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to catch him before he gets to the boathouse!”

  “But you’ll never make it.”

  “I know.” Molka pounded her fist on the throttle.

  The little motor screamed for mercy.

  About 20 meters from the boathouse, Cardoza cut hard to starboard.

  Nathan yelled above the engine noise. “Now, where’s he going?”

  Molka yelled back: “He’s moving too fast! He can’t slow down in time to dock it! He’s going to beach it over there!”

  She pointed to a small artificial beach fronting Cardoza’s estate about 75 meters from the boathouse.

  Nathan spotted it. “We might be able to catch him when he does! Give it all she’s got!”

  Molka pounded on the throttle again. “This is all she’s got! Oh, Captain Savanna, where’s your beautiful hunter Vengeance again when I need her?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing!”

  BROOOAARRRRMMMMM!

  The white boat blew by them on the left at a distance of about 30 meters and raced toward Cardoza.

  Nathan yelled. “Are they high or something?”

  Cardoza executed a hard beaching.

  He and the Kozlov brothers slammed forward into the bulkhead and fell back.

  The white boat slowed to beach beside Cardoza.

  Cardoza and the Kozlovs scrambled to their feet and jumped over the boat’s sides onto the sand.

  Automatic weapons fire erupted from the white boat.

  Nathan yelled: “Whoa! Those guys are shooting over Cardoza’s head!”

  Cardoza and the Kozlovs ignored the warning shots and ran up a small hill behind the beach and toward the main house.

  The white boat beached beside Cardoza’s boat.

  The three men leaped out onto the sand, holding MP5 submachine guns and ran after Cardoza and the Kozlovs.

  Molka and Nathan arrived offshore from the beached boats at a 20 meters distance, and Molka put the boat in neutral.

  “Whoever those guys are,” Nathan said, “they’re running into—”

  Fire from multiple automatic weapons erupted near Cardoza’s house.

  “You were saying?” Molka said.

  “Now, what do we do?”

  Molka pulled off her hood and tossed it on the deck. “I want to take a quick look inside that white boat for anything identifying. Raziela will want to know who caused us to miss Cardoza. And so do I.”

  Molka steered the boat toward the beach.

  Nathan pulled off his hood, tossed it on the deck, and pointed up the shore. “They’re coming back!”

  The three men ran back down the hill toward their boat.

  A second later, more automatic weapons fire made them run faster.

  One man stopped, lay flat on the hill’s downslope for cover, and returned fire at their pursuers while the other two ran to their boat and tried to push it off the beach back into the water.

  The return fire increased.

  Overshot rounds impacted in the water near Molka and Nathan’s boat.

  “It’s getting a little uncomfortable here,” Nathan said.

  More rounds swished the water around them.

  “I agree,” Molka said. “And I didn’t really want to know who those guys were anyway.”

  She turned the boat around and headed away from the beach.

  The two men trying to push their boat back into the water stopped, ran to their comrade, lay flat beside him, and helped him fire on the pursuers.

  Even more return fire came back toward them.

  And more overshot rounds splashed beside and in front of Molka and Nathan’s boat.

  Molka increased speed.

  Another volley of overshot rounds buzzed overhead.

  Molka and Nathan instinctively ducked.

  A round crashed into the plexiglass windshield.

  Half the window split off.

  Molka ducked again and went to full power.

  Nathan lay flat on the deck in the bow.

  Another round impacted the motor just below the cowling.

  The motor released a gear grinding shriek.

  Then it seized and stopped.

  Molka dropped flat on the deck. “We’re about to be dead in the water. Stay down, or we’ll be dead on the water.”

  “This is all our fault,” Nathan said. “We broke our stay at least 175 meters from shore rule.”

  As the boat drifted about 100 meters offshore, the firing slackened, became sporadic, and ceased. After waiting facedown flat for another two minutes, Molka dared to raise her head for a peek toward shore.

  The three men stood on the beach beside their boat, talking.

  Molka stood. “It seems to be over.”

  Nathan stood and viewed the men. “I was going to hate them for life for spooking Cardoza away just when he was giving up to us, but I guess the enemy of my enemy is my frenemy.”

  “Well, let’s not add them as frenemies on our social media just yet.” Molka unslung the shotgun and placed it back in the gear bag.

  Nathan unslung his shotgun, laid it on the deck, and sat back in his bow seat position. “Ridiculously obvious observation of the night, my plan didn’t go quite as well as expected.”

  “I disagree,” Molka said. “It was going better than expected until those lunatics showed up.” She tried to r
estart the motor. Nothing. She picked up the shattered remnant of the windshield, grimaced, and tossed it aside. “I think you’re going to lose your deposit on this vessel.” She scanned around the boat’s interior. “Um…I don’t see emergency paddles or even a paddle.”

  Nathan frowned. “Sorry. I never thought to ask the guy when I rented it. But…” He stood and lifted one of the waterproof vinyl seat cushions. “Maybe we can use the duct tape to secure these to the butts of the shotguns and then use them as paddles.”

  Molka grinned. “Oh, my clever little improviser, you’ve impressed me again.”

  At the lake’s west end, the seaplane’s left motor coughed and started, followed by the right motor coughing and starting.

  It throttled up.

  It began to move across the lake.

  It throttled up even more.

  It began a takeoff run.

  A takeoff run straight at Molka and Nathan.

  They both watched the seaplane speeding toward them.

  It was 120 meters from hitting them.

  And then 100 meters from hitting them.

  And then 80 meters from hitting them.

  “They’re not trying to hit us?” Nathan said. “Are they?

  The seaplane was 60 meters from hitting them.

  “No,” Molka said. “They just don’t see us in the dark.”

  The seaplane was 40 meters from hitting them.

  “What do we do, Captain Molka?” Nathan said.

  The seaplane was 20 meters from hitting them.

  Molka yelled:

  “Abandon ship!”

  Molka dove into the lake over the starboard side.

  Nathan dove into the lake over the port side.

  At about five meters from hitting them, the seaplane’s nose pitched up, and its floats lifted from the lake and cleared the boat’s cracked window by less than four meters as it climbed into the night.

  The float’s trailing wake rocked the boat and washed over Molka and Nathan’s bobbing heads.

  Molka swam back to the boat and climbed in over the starboard side.

  Nathan swam back to the boat and climbed in over the port side.

  Nathan moved back into his bow seat. “Two near-death misses in one night. So, tell me, dear heart. Are all tasks this exciting?”

  Molka twisted her shirt hem to ring out the water. “Only if you’re not lucky.”

  Molka’s phone in the gear bag buzzed three quick times: the message notification signal from Marvelous.