To Honor We Call You: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 9)

by Scott Cook

  “As you would at least partially be assigned to defend our coast,” Burbank went on. “We could find you a hatful of hands. As a private vessel, you’d cruise under the aegis of the Royal Navy with the unofficial support of ours. That means purser’s, boatswain’s, carpenter’s and gunner’s stores would be provided. Any prizes you take would be shared out among the ship, yourself and the hands, naturally. In addition, as your mother was an American citizen, if I don’t mistake, you have something of a dual citizenship. That should be of some help as regards manning.”

  “We’d also be able to offer you more hands upon arriving in a British port,” Dorsett explained.

  “I’m beyond words…” Kate muttered, feeling as if she might float out of her chair directly.

  “There are several former Royal Navy officers right here in Charleston who might agree to serve with you,” Pellew stated. “Men who might appreciate the opportunity to earn their place back in the fleet, a female captain notwithstanding.”

  “We can’t offer you any Marines, in course. We simply don’t have enough to spare now,” Dorsett said. “But as things stand, you have yourself a start. There is one thing I can do that might help in future, however. It’s unprecedented and will have to remain somewhat… clandestine. However…” HE came over and handed her a folded sheet of paper. Kate took it with trembling hands.

  “Open it, Kate,” Albury whispered, nudging her.

  It took her several seconds to fumble open the seal and begin reading:

  By the Commissioners for executing the Office of the Lord High Admiral of Great Britain and Ireland and of all His Majesty's Plantations.

  To Miss Catherine Cook, hereby appointed Master and Commander of His Majesty's Ship the Resolve.

  By Virtue of the Power and Authority to us given we do hereby constitute and appoint you Master and Commander of His Majesty's 30 gun frigate the Resolve, willing and requiring you forthwith to go on board and take upon you the Charge and Command of Master and Commander in her accordingly. Strictly Charging and Commanding all the Officers and Company belonging to the said ship subordinate to you to behave themselves jointly and severally in their respective Employments with all the Respect and Obedience unto you their said Commander; And you likewise to observe and execute as well the General printed Instructions as what Orders and Directions you shall from time to time receive from any your superior Officers for His Majesty's service. Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer the contrary at your peril. And for so doing this shall be your Warrant. Given under our hands and the Seal of the Office Admiralty this 19th day of October, 1797 in the 37th Year of His Majesty King George III’s Reign.

  “God’s my life…” Kate breathed, almost overcome by awe. “Can this be true… me, a weak and fragile woman given a commission as Commander into a frigate…”

  “There aren’t many women who could do what you’ve done,” Pellew said. “Not many men, either. And this is not without precedent.”

  “But… why?” Kate barely managed to whisper. She became aware of a heavy lump in her throat and she had to focus hard on her breathing in order to prevent the tears that threatened to overflow. She couldn’t cry in front of these men like a little girl. It wouldn’t be… manly.

  “Well, we can’t have Lieutenants, even those who have been dismissed the service saluting another Lieutenant can we?” Dorsett asked with a laugh. He then took on a more serious note. “Perhaps this might help you understand. It certainly helped me.”

  The admiral handed her a thin leather-bound volume with the name James Cook engraved on the cover. She took it with hands that weren’t entirely steady.

  “Your father’s journal,” The Admiral explained. “Some interesting reading to be sure… yet the most interesting is his step-by-step progress relating to your training. You were bred to the sea, Catherine. And you’re a Cook through and through. Owing to a bizarre set of circumstances, you’re being given the chance to prove it.”

  Kate held the book with reverence. Once again, the tears threatened to come and this time, she was unable to prevent them entirely. She dashed the sleeve of her coat quickly across her eyes, cleared her throat and said: “Thank you, Admiral… but where in the world did you get this?”

  “From me,” Albury said gently. “He gave it to me on the day…”

  “Thank you, peter… this is all so overwhelming, I can hardly credit it…”

  “The only limitations are those which we place upon ourselves,” Albury said softly and smiled at her. “Who’d have believed it, eh, Katie girl? That we’d both be made Commander on the same day! Ah, hah, ha, hhhhaaaaa!”

  As Kate gazed around at the men before her, she seemed to be viewing them and the room in which she sat from a great distance. And through the windows of Fortescue’s office, just visible behind a warehouse, was the bowsprit and bows of her frigate.

  Her frigate…

  Catherine Cook, illegitimate daughter of James Cook, the son of the great explorer of the same name didn’t know what was next. Yet she knew that whatever it was, she’d meet it bows on and with unbowed determination.

  40

  It was just after five in the morning when someone rapped on our stateroom’s door. I was torn from a rather intense dream about Lisa. When I came awake and realized that it had only been a dream, and further that I’d conked out before I could’ve made it a reality, I felt a bit grumpy.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Turner. You still want to join the boarding party?”

  “Does the Pope wear a pointy hat?” I muttered and jumped out of bed. “Be right with you, Commander.”

  “We’ll be on the bridge,” He replied.

  “I don’t wanna go to school today,” Lisa grumped from behind me as I started rummaging through the bag she’d brought.

  I chuckled, “It’s Saturday, go back to sleep.”

  “And miss all the fun?” She said, sounding more awake. “Fudge that noise. Fudge it right in the A!”

  She appeared next to me and I took a quick couple of seconds to drink her in. Whenever I really looked at her, clothed or naked… especially naked… I couldn’t help but marvel that this exquisite beauty wanted to be with me.

  She leaned in and kissed me, “you keep staring at me like that and you’ll miss all the fun.”

  I scoffed, “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Well… the clothed fun.”

  I found that she’d brought me a pair of jeans, socks, underwear and polo shirt along with a pair of boots I’d acquired as part of my combat gear from my time in Costa Rica. She’d also had the forethought to pack my favorite gun.

  “Kind of wish I had the BDU’s,” I stated as I cleared the Colt 1911 .45.

  “Well, the pants were ruined by blood and being cut to ribbons,” Lisa replied.

  “Nah, Charles gave me another set… hmm… I wonder if there are any aboard now?”

  We headed forward and up the two flights and onto the upper deck and forward to the bridge. McClay and Brody were at the helm while turner, Jackie and two other dudes I hadn’t met stood by staring through the wide angled viewports at the dark shape ahead of us. The yacht’s lights were extinguished but even on what was now a partly cloudy pre-dawn morning, the large boat was visible on the onyx sea.

  “Commander Jarvis,” Turner said. “This is Chief Anthony Hightower, SEALs and Petty Officer first class James Dillan, U.S. Coast Guard.”

  Hightower was a barrel-chested black man of a little less than average height. What he lacked in that, however, he made up for in width. The man was broad and powerfully built with the body of a wrestler. His shaved head gleamed in the red illumination overhead and his somewhat forbidding countenance changed completely when he smiled and stuck out his hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Commander,” he said in a deep rumble. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

  I shook the offered hand, “And you shook anyway, good on ya’, Chief.”

  Dill
an, in stark contrast to Hightower, was a bit of a bean pole. He was at least six foot four and probably didn’t top out at any more than one-eighty. His flaming red hair was cut in a high and tight and his almost boyish face was open and good-looking in a disarming sort of way. His green eyes crinkled as he grinned at me, “Nice to meet you, sir. I’ve read your books.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Dillan,” I said. “The meeting, that is. I haven’t read your books.”

  The two men introduced themselves to Lisa also. As they did, I went forward to stand between Joe and Jack.

  “So what’s the story?” I inquired.

  “She’s still plodding along at twenty knots,” McClay said. “It’s as if she’s unaware of us.”

  “Or doesn’t give a shit,” Jack added. “We’ve been trying to raise her for half an hour now. No response at all.”

  “That’s… odd,” I remarked brilliantly.

  “I agree,” Turner said, joining the conversation. “If they’re up to no good, they would’ve tried to evade, perhaps.”

  “What for?” Brody put in. “They can’t outrun us. They’re already probably burning a month’s worth of fuel oil going that speed.”

  “They’ll have to reply to hails when they reach the Delta,” Turner mused. “Or they might be fired upon.”

  “Will they?” I asked thoughtfully. “I wonder…”

  “You don’t think they’ll be intercepted by Coast Guard or Marine Patrol, sir?” Dillan asked.

  “No,” I answered. “Think about it… we’re in the Gulf of Mexico. Boats go in and out of inlets by the thousands each day and nobody says boo. The fact is that most check ins are a matter of courtesy. Sure, in a port like Miami or Port Everglades you might get noticed at random… but then again, probably not. Nobody knows what boat went where and when.”

  “He’s got a point,” Hightower added. “I got a buddy lives in West Palm and we go fishing in his thirty-seven Rampage all the time. Go out in the stream, even over to the Bahama bank and back without telling anybody one way or another.”

  “I’ve always said this,” I continued. “If I wanted to be a drug dealer, I’d use my sailboat and come in and out of Tampa Bay. Nobody would know, and nobody ever even bothers with sailboats.”

  “I have to admit that’s true,” Turner said, sounding a little annoyed that he and I might agree on something.

  I frowned slightly but Lisa poked me in the ribs. She was reminding me of our talk about Turner the other day. I said nothing.

  “It don’t matter anyway,” Brody said. “Unless you ICE guys intend on letting that ship actually enter the Mississippi Delta. I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Brody,” Turner said tightly. “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

  I stifled a laugh. Jack Brody was not a man to take that lightly. I was not surprised when he spun his chair around and got to his feet, coming nose to nose with Turner. Jack Brody was a big man. Six foot four and full of muscle, as Men at Work might have said.

  “I’ll offer any fuckin’ opinion I fuckin’ choose, boy,” Jack growled into Turner’s face. “You’re on my goddamned ship, and I suggest you don’t forget it.”

  Turner, who was four inches or so shorter, didn’t back down. He was a SEAL after all, “And your ship is currently under the jurisdiction of ICE, Brody. You either cooperate as you agreed or I’ll have your ticket pulled. How’s that sound?”

  Brody scoffed, “Son, it’d take more than a wet behind the ears Commander to yank my ticket. You’re not the only one who’s got connections, savvy? And it’s Chief Brody to you.”

  I had to stifle a chuckle. Chief Brody…

  “Gents,” I said, stepping up and holding up a hand. It was an interesting situation. Here I was trying to be the peacemaker when I fully expected that it would be me squaring off with Turner. “This isn’t productive. Let’s focus on the task at hand. At these speeds, Commander, how do you propose we board her?”

  Turner and Brody stared each other down for a few more seconds before they both stepped back. Brody went back to his seat and Turner sighed.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” Turner admitted. “Dillan here is our underway boarding expert.”

  Suddenly, Gregorio Santino was standing beside me. I was a little startled as I hadn’t even heard him enter the bridge. He noticed and gave me a wink.

  Dillan blew out his breath, “Our training is in the use of smaller vessels. We’d approach and go aboard in the stern, nosing the boat’s bow up against their transom. That big low open deck astern would make it easier, as we wouldn’t need to throw grapnels and climb.”

  “We’ve got a rigid inflatable,” McClay offered.

  Dillan nodded and rubbed his chin, “And that may have to do… still, the sea state is six to eight out here. That’s pretty rough for trying to get five people on board safely at twenty knots.”

  “Six,” Santino said. “I’m going as well.”

  Turner was about to protest but Santino cut him off.

  “You may need me to communicate with Bolivar,” Santino said. “It’s my man who’s got his family, if you recall.”

  Turner frowned but only shrugged his shoulders, “It’s your neck, Mr. Santino.”

  “So what is the plan, then, Jimmy?” Hightower inquired.

  Jackie, who hadn’t said anything up to this point, looked over at me, “How about some crazy Jarvis shit? You know… drive up and jump aboard? Dive into a raging sea at night? An airboat chase in the Everglades?”

  “Not helping, Gunny,” Turner chided.

  “As I see it,” I said, tapping my own chin. “We have two options… well, three, I suppose. First, we try and get aboard using the rib. Second, we simply pull the Ballard alongside the yacht and jump the rails.”

  Brody turned and grinned at me, “Just like that?”

  “With this sea state and the hydrodynamic forces of our two hulls coming into close proximity,” McClay added. “It might not be possible to get close enough and maintain even a modicum of safety.”

  “What’s the third option?” Lisa asked warily.

  I smiled, “We stop them.”

  “And just how do you suggest we do that?” Turner asked. For once he didn’t sound irritable. He was genuinely interested.

  “Come on, Commander,” I said. “You guys are SEALs, for God’s sake. Surely you must have some procedure for this. Or a cool gadget maybe?”

  Hightower chuckled and Turner actually grinned, “Sure, if we were fully equipped and using one of our own vessels, there are things we could do. We could get ahead of them and lay out a couple of drogues, for example. But in this case, we’re pretty much winging it.”

  The Robert Ballard was within a quarter mile of the big yacht now. Still, the other vessel hadn’t changed course, activated her running lights or tried to radio us. It was odd.

  “I’m going to match speed for the time being,” McClay announced.

  “Have you got spotlights?” Dillan asked.

  “Sure,” Brody said, tapping several switches on his board.

  The yacht’s stern lit up like daylight as a bank of LED spotlights on the salvager’s tower bathed it in several hundred thousand lumens.

  “No reaction…” McClay muttered. “Extraordinary…”

  “Something isn’t right here…” I muttered.

  “Uhm… Jack, is it possible for me to make a phone call from way out here?” Lisa asked tentatively.

  Turner eyed her but said nothing. Brody smiled at her, “Certainly, lovely Lisa. We can put a call through using our satellite system. It can connect to cellular systems or land lines. I’ll just need the phone number and general location where you’re calling.”

  “Miss Gonzalez,” Turner said firmly. “As part of letting you come on this trip, you agreed to keep quiet about what we’re doing, if you recall.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, Commander,” Lisa said a little piqued, “but since you don’t have any ideas, I have a card I c
an play. I don’t have to give all the details, but a few will be necessary. Here, Jack.”

  Lisa showed him her phone and the contact listed in it. Jack inserted a cord into his panel and then handed Lisa the other end.

  “Just plug that into your charging port,” Jack said kindly. “Give me a second to set up here…”

  Turner’s frown became a scowl. I leaned in close to him, “Trust her, Commander.”

  Turner drew a breath and sighed. Jack nodded at Lisa and she made the call.

  After a few seconds, I was surprised that she actually got an answer. It was a good hour before even false dawn after all.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Lisa said. “We’ve got a situation… yes, it involves you and EcoLife… and your yacht.”

  That made my brows raise. Was she talking to Miles Palmer? I didn’t really know what had happened to him after our adventure in Costa Rica. Only that Andrea Wellesley had won control of their company. Yet Miles hadn’t gone to prison, disappeared or even been thrown off the board, according to Lisa. I thought that he might be in Costa Rica overseeing the current Green City project.

  “What…?” Lisa sounded a little bewildered. “Well… yeah, he’s right here… why… okay, hold on…”

  She handed me the phone. I shrugged and said: “Jarvis.”

  “Good morning, handsome,” Came the sultry voice of Andrea Wellesley herself. “Fancy meeting you here. I’m lying in my big old bed all alone and just wanted to hear your voice.”

  Jesus, nothing had changed, obviously, “Good morning, Ms. Wellesley. I hope I find you well?”

  A chuckle, “As well as can be expected. Lisa tells me that my boat is involved in some kind of… situation?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Headed into the Mississippi Delta. Eventually. We have reason to believe she’s been hiJacked by Columbian terrorists intent on delivering something unpleasant to some target up the river. Lisa thought you could help us out, somehow. We need to get aboard.”