by Buzz Harcus
“Harry Martin. American. I’m from Saginaw, Michigan—”
“Und I’m Captain Karl Andress. Stockholm, Sveden,” Karl said stepping in beside Harry. “Ve vere trown overboard by pirates from my ship, der Nurad, a grain carrier from Stockholm.”
Her eyes took in the second older man. Neither one was awe inspiring. Her pale blue eyes shifted back and forth between the two, unsure of them. “And somebody on board threw you a life raft?” she said, a quirky smile breaking across her face.
“Yeah, it sounds dumb, but true,” replied Harry, a grin breaking across his face.
“Stay right there where I can keep an eye on you,” she said. Raising up from the deck and easing down on the edge of the bed next to the man, the gun still trained on the two, she said, “We were attacked by Asian pirates two weeks ago. The bastards killed our crew, shot my husband, and disabled our yacht. We’ve been adrift ever since.”
Her eyes traversed from one unkempt, scurvy looking man to the other. “Either one of you know anything about yachts? The bastards disabled our engine, even pulled the bilge plug to sink us.”
Nodding toward the man, she said, “Al and I killed three of them. Al shot the leader and I shot the two who attacked me. Before the pirates jumped ship and roared off, they destroyed our Loran, radar and radio. We cannot communicate with anyone.”
The man, who had remained silent while the woman talked, moved slightly bringing a gasping wince of pain to his face. Gritting his teeth, he settled back with his head resting against several huge pillows, gun still aimed at the two.
“They shot Al,” the woman said. “He’s got a bullet in his shoulder. Either one of you a doctor? Or know how to get a bullet out?” Harry and Karl gave a shrug of their shoulders. “We could try,” they said almost in unison.
The man spoke. “Judy was able to replace the bilge plug and secure it, but we’ve got a couple of feet of water in the bilge. The engine won’t start. I don’t know what they did to it. Anyways, like she said, we’ve been drifting. We got smacked around by a couple of good storms, but this is a seaworthy vessel, and we’ve made it thus far.”
“I know ships. I know engines,” Karl offered. “I’m sure I can help. Ve vant to get ashore as soon as possible so ve can track down my ship. I am vorried about my crew. Yah, I tink Harry und I can help you.”
The woman, Judy, looked at the man beside her. A silent message seemed to pass between them. After a moment, the man said, “I’m Albert Einstein Lazlo,” indicating himself, which brought forth a chuckle, “my parents choice of a name. Call me Al. And this is my wife, Judy. Sorry to say she got the worst of the attack. They tried to rape—”
“No! Al! Don’t!” she screeched. “No!” She glanced about at the three of them somewhat embarrassed, then gave a shake of her head, thick blonde hair swinging about. “I’ll survive,” she said, a huskiness to her voice. “They tried—I’ll—I’ll survive.”
Her eyes suddenly blurred with tears and she turned away weeping openly; body hunched over shaking, the trauma of being attacked silently relived. “I killed two of those little Asian bastards!” she gasped. “I’d do it again—”
“They broke through the door, came at us so fast we couldn’t defend ourselves!” Al interrupted. “They shot me and as I fell by the head of the bed two of them forced her down on the bed in front of me, right here on our bed! I grabbed my damned pistol from under my pillow and I just swung it around and shot the first bastard I saw. It must have been their leader. He dropped like a rock.”
“The two who had me down jumped off the bed at seeing the dead guy,” Judy cried, twisting around. “I grabbed a machine gun and shot one, then the other as he tried to shoot Al. I killed him, then sprayed bullets out through the doorway—”
“Just then the damned power went off and the engines shut down,” Al said. “No electricity—everything shut down. Nothing moving. We sat there in the darkness just waiting for them to attack again. Nothing. Moments later we heard their boat speed away in the darkness.”
“How’d they get on board?” asked Harry.
“Innocent as hell. They came in close in an old boat holding up wood carvings, looked like natives trying to sell souvenirs,” Judy said with a sad shake of her head. “We had Captain Aynsworth stop. We thought we could get something unique for our tenth wedding anniversary.”
She paused, looking away for several seconds. Dabbing at tears, she continued, “When they came along side they were all smiles, even held up native carved bric-a-brac. Our crew reached out to hold onto their small boat. Two men suddenly rose up with machine guns in their hand, and started firing. They killed Captain Aynsworth, Digger, Roger, Kevin and Danny boy just that fast, then climbed on board. Al and I were startled at the speed of their actions. We dashed back to our cabin and tried to barricade ourselves in, but three of them were already after us!”
“We survived,” Al said, reaching out and squeezing his wife’s hand. “Judy’s a tough broad. We’ll both get through it okay.” He paused for several seconds, a lump in his throat, then continued. “When we were sure they had left, we ventured out on deck. No bodies. Our entire crew had been thrown overboard. Nothing but patches of blood all over the deck and railings. Horrible!”
The cabin grew silent.
“The heat’s been unbearable,” Al said breaking the silence. “Over a hundred degrees. No air conditioning. No refrigeration. Nothing.”
“I’m—I’m truly sorry for what you’ve been through,” Harry said, his thoughts suddenly turning to Osa, fearful of what Bert Kilgrew might have done to her. He’d kill the bastard if he ever got his hands on him.
Again the cabin grew silent.
“I go und check der engines,” Karl said. “I see vat I can do.”
CHAPTER 32
What Would be the Fate of NURAD’S Crew
Captain Alward listened in silence as Sigmund gave him the bad news; Nurad would never sail again. The keel had broken, steel plates up both side of the vessel were snapped and fractured. The stern of the vessel was sitting precariously off the edge of the reef. Any major storm could warp the vessel back and forth, loosening it from the reef’s hold, and the vessel would slide off and sink. It was incumbent on them to abandon the vessel immediately.
“I haf checked der chart for our location,” said Sigmund. “Off der reef lies two hundred fathoms of water. A hard storm, perhaps a typhoon, vill send Nurad to der bottom.” With a sad shake of his head, he said, “Ve must abandon ship.”
It was worse than Alward had first thought. Any idea he might of had of trying to re-float the vessel, to salvage anything—no. The ship was a gonner! Damn Doyle and his stupidity! The big man would be really pissed at this.
Alward dismissed Sigmund. He called Ace and Doyle to him and gave them the bad news. “The ship is a goner,” he said. “The way she’s sitting, she could slide off any time a storm hits it and end up two hundred fathoms deep.”
Doyle stood silently, eyes downcast, almost repentant. “Sorry, Captain,” he muttered. “I’m really sorry.” And just as quickly he changed the subject, asking, “What about the crew? We could lock them in one of the aft compartments, even in the galley, let ‘em go down with the ship—”
“I say tie them up and leave them,” Ace interjected. “A good solid storm could take care of them, and no more problem. Dead men tell no tales!”
“I don’t really want to kill them,” Alward answered after pondering the point for several seconds. “Too much killing—.”
“But they know we killed the captain and that guy Harry,” snapped Ace angrily. “We let ‘em live—we get caught, and we’ll hang. I say we stow them down below like we did with those damned Asians, let Mother Nature take care of the problem.”
“I think he’s right,” Doyle agreed, “Tie ‘em all up and let Mother Nature get rid of them.” Then, with a nasty grin, he added, “Except for the broad. I think we take her along. We can sell her to one of the whorehouses in Manila.”
His comment seemed to set well with Alward for it brought a smile.
Ace chuckled. “Poor Bert, he never had a chance at her.” He ran his hand over his bald, tattooed head and down along his tattooed chest to his crotch. “I ain’t never had me no Swedish bitch. Wonder what she’ll be like?” He looked at Alward for approval.
“Leave her alone,” Alward retorted coldly. “She’s trouble. I don’t like dames on a ship. They’re bad luck. Don’t go near her. That’s an order!”
Minutes later the ship’s loudspeaker crackled with a brisk message from the captain. “All crew are to gather in the galley. I repeat, all crew to the galley!”
As each crew member entered he was met by an AK-47 staring him in the face. Each man was ordered to lay down on the deck and keep quiet. Captain Alward and Doyle held guns trained on the crew while Ace, with strips of line, quickly tied each crew member’s wrists behind their back, then tied their ankles together.
“Vat’s dis all about?” demanded Sigmund as he and Osa stepped into the galley and saw the crew down on the deck tied up. And then he saw the weapons.
In answer, Ace suddenly slugged him hard in his stomach knocking the wind from him, followed through by a quick Judo move kicking Sigmund’s legs out from under him and dropping him to the deck. Ace’s gun was suddenly in Sigmund’s face. ”Sit still hero, and shut up,” he snarled as he quickly trussed him up.
“No! You tell us vy you are tying us up,” cried Osa, upset at seeing what he had just done to Sigmund. “I don’t trust you. Vat you are doing is wrong!”
Ace laughed. He spun her around, grabbed her wrists, causing a yelp of pain as he quickly tied her wrists together behind her. He shoved her down. “Now sit on your ass or I’ll give you another black eye,” he said noticing her bruised eye. And just as quickly, Osa was trussed up on the deck on her stomach, ankles tied together.
The crew soon occupied the entire deck of the galley, wrists and ankles bound. Sigmund swore at Ace assuring him the authorities would be here soon, that the three of them would be caught and sent to prison. All his bluffing went for naught as Ace stuffed a dirty handkerchief in his mouth, saying, “This’ll keep your mouth shut!”
Ace stood and surveyed his handiwork. Satisfied, he grabbed up his AK-47 and fired a short burst of machine gun fire into the galley doors. “Quiet!” he yelled. “All of you stay right where you are. Do not move! I’ll be standing guard outside the door. First one who peeks out—I kill!”
From his hastily chosen hiding place in the rear of the kitchen Hans had watched as each crew member who stepped into the galley was systematically tied with rope around their wrists and ankles. He wanted to cry out when Ace slugged Sigmund, and especially at the way he roughly manhandled Osa.
He had been cleaning up in the kitchen when the first crew member had entered the galley only to be quickly tied up. Hans had ducked out of sight and scurried to the back of the kitchen out of sight, hiding himself as far away from the main part of the galley as possible. He had grabbed one of Osa’s huge kitchen knifes for protection.
“Done!” called Ace to Captain Alward. “They ain‘t goin’ nowhere!”
Captain Alward surveyed the scene, then nodded approval to Ace.
“Goodbye crew,” Alward called out. “The captain is leaving the ship!”
“What about the cook?” asked Ace. “Ain’t we gonna take her along?” He looked at his captain hopefully. “I’d enjoy some of that—”
“No,” Alward replied angrily, scowling at the man. “We’ve got enough problems without dragging her along!”
“But she’d bring a good price in Manila—” Doyle started to say, then froze at the anger in Alward’s eyes.
Ace gave a disgusted shrug of his shoulders. Firing another short burst from his gun, he yelled, “Anyone pokes their damned head out the door and I’ll shoot ’em!”
Locking the doors from the outside, the three pirates hurriedly made their way down the gangway. What the hell, Al-ward figured, as they walked off the reef, by the time the crew freed themselves, if they could, the three of them would be in Manila. Besides, this time it didn’t seem right to deliberately kill the whole crew. If they didn‘t get free Mother Nature would do the deed.
In the galley sudden fear gripped Sigmund. Harry had told him of his suspicions about the death of Alward’s Asian crew. All drowned. If they were tied up like this, they didn’t stand a chance. He had to act! Already he was wrestling with his bindings trying to loosen them, but in vain. Ace had him trussed up too tight.
As the trio of pirates started walking away from the ship, Al-ward recalled the most recent marine weather report that stated a huge storm was brewing south west of the Philippines. It would hit in a matter of days; let the storm take care of the problem.
“Damn!“ Ace swore stopping abruptly. He just remembered something Shen Lee Ma had said: Harry Martin had come back to Qingdao for something special. He didn’t know what it was, but it had cost his father his life. The damned American Marine must have found what he was looking for, but what was it?
If it was money he would have found it the other day but that stupid broad, Osa, had interrupted him when he was checking out Harry‘s cabin. A few more minutes and he would have found whatever it was; he was sure of that. He could sniff out money. If there was money in the cabin he’d find it; he had to go back and search Harry’s cabin.
“Where the hell are you going?” roared Alward as Ace suddenly turned around and headed back toward the ship.
Thinking he was going back for Osa, he yelled, “Don’t go back! I told you to leave that damned broad behind!” Angrily he watched as Ace ran back up the gangway and disappeared on deck.
Crawling on his belly, Hans had made his way through Osa’s office and out a side door into an empty corridor. He felt it his duty to save the crew—but how?
At Harry’s cabin door Ace knelt, pulled a knife, and started to jimmy the door lock. His concentration was interrupted by a whirring sound. Turning, he had just a moment to ward off a bottle that smashed solidly against his shoulder.
Down the corridor he saw the kid, Hans. Damn! He’d forgotten about the kid. Grabbing his pistol, he snapped off a shot down the corridor but the boy had already disappeared from view. “You little shit,” screamed Ace as he raced down the corridor. “I’m gonna enjoy killing you. I mean it!”
Hans ran for the galley. The doors were locked. A bullet slammed into the door beside him. Spinning about, the boy took off on the run again. Another bullet whizzed past his head. The boy ducked down another corridor running pell mell for his life. He could hear the pounding feet and labored breathing of his pursuer.
Stopping just around the corner of the corridor, Hans held his breath, steadied himself, and remained silent as possible. Trembling, his fingers gripped tightly around the handle of his large kitchen knife, he held it poised.
Ace came around the corner at full speed only to have the knife driven deep into his stomach. With a gasp of pain, Ace stopped and looked down at his stomach. He couldn’t believe what he saw, a damned knife sticking in his gut buried to the hilt! Pain twisted his face as he grabbed the knife, yanked it from his body, and threw it to the deck. Already blood drenched his shirt and pants and splattered on the deck.
“You little shit,” he swore, trying to raise his gun to shoot, but Hans was already running away as fast as his feet could carry him. Feeling his strength ebbing, Ace fired the gun several times down the corridor. That damned kid! He clutched at his gut. “You killed me,” he sputtered. “You just killed me!”
Staggering down the corridor leaning on the walls for support, streaking the walls with his blood, Ace managed to get outside onto the deck. He made his way unsteadily down the gangway, stumbled and landed on the hardness of the reef on his knees. He looked after his captain, then squeezed the trigger of his gun.
Alward, who was about five hundred feet ahead just about to enter the tree line, heard the report of a gunshot an
d looked back. Seeing Ace on his knees, he ran back screaming, “What the hell happened?” And then he saw Ace’s bloodied body. “The kid had a knife,” Ace gurgled. He gave an apologetic look at his captain. “I didn’t think—”
“I told you not to go back!” screamed Alward. “That damned broad! It’s all her fault! She‘s trouble!”
“The—kid,” Ace gasped. “The little shit killed me.”
He tried to stand, to get on his feet, but fell backwards dropping hard on his ass. A rattle came from his throat, and he suddenly flopped on his back, staring up at Alward through dull lifeless eyes.
“You dumb sonofabitch!” screamed Alward. “I told you not to go back!” He grabbed his gun and fired twice into the dead man’s chest. “You dumb sonofabitch!”
Glaring at Doyle, he yelled, “I’m going back there and kill that kid and her, and everyone of those damned Swedes! Every damned one of them!”
“No! Let’s get the hell out of here!” Doyle swore. “C’mon! Those gun shots will bring people—even the police!”
He started quickly away leaving Alward standing over the dead body. The man seemed caught in a quandry: kill the crew or get the hell out of there before the police arrived.
Doyle knew they had to get away now and continued walking. At the treeline he stopped and looked back across the beach. Alward was running toward him.
“Just the two of us now,” gasped Alward catching up. “Just the two of us!”
Doyle walked along with his captain, but he had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Alward was unstable, and, true, now there was only the two of them. First was Bert, now Ace. Just the two of them left now.
CHAPTER 33
Abandon Ship
Breathless, shaking like a leaf, sickened by the fact he had just stuck a knife into a man’s stomach, Hans clung to the ship’s railing looking out toward the far lush green landscape. Tears blurring his vision began streaming down his cheeks. He prayed to God for forgiveness, sick at the act he had just committed, and then he leaned far out over the railing and puked his guts out.
