by Seeley James
The Major stepped into the pilothouse and saw Ezra glaring through the heavy glass at Whittier. He gestured again at the boat on the left and took up a position in the prow with his body wedged into the v-shaped railing. He kept his aim as steady as he could while the deck bounced beneath him.
She went back on deck and watched through a portal as Ezra rattled off the first shots at the circling Zodiacs. They returned fire. Ezra took careful aim, expecting the boat to rise on a small wave. He aimed above and in front of the coxswain and squeezed off a three-round burst. A man rose in the midsection and fired back. Another stood with the RPG. The Major aimed at him and the Zodiac turned away. The RPG went vertical, exploding high above them.
Tania knelt behind the gunwale and leaned around the armored wheelhouse. Aiming for the inflated rubber hull, she fired a burst. The Zodiac caught a wave and bounced out of range. At the same time, the Limbe Explorer turned hard as the engines cranked to full power.
While the Zodiacs had no speed advantage over the Explorer, they had the advantage in acceleration and maneuverability.
“On the right, on the right!” Jacob shouted over the rumble of the engines.
The Major joined him, sighting down her M4 as the second Zodiac swung into position on their newly exposed flank. As the bigger ship struggled to regain speed after the turn, the smaller craft leapt their way. The Explorer’s decks leaned into the turn, the edge of the deck nearly level with the waves. The Zodiac ran straight at them and bounced up the gunwale. She turned and ducked but the pontoon banged her hard in the shoulder. The impact knocked her to the deck before the Zodiac slid backwards into the sea.
She flipped over and emptied half her magazine at the retreating attackers only to have the boat’s rocking deck throw her aim downward. Wasted ammo. She scrambled to the safety of the gunwale. The pirates were coming about for a second run. She crabbed a few feet aft, rose to her knees and fired again, then ducked back below the gunwale. Multiple wakes from all directions made the boats bounce and rock unpredictably. She popped up, looked around, dropped back to the deck. The Zodiac carried four pirates, two wounded and two still standing.
To cover her, Jacob fired from a gun port behind the wheelhouse. A wave rocked the Explorer, spoiling his aim. The Major popped up and opened fire while Jacob stepped out from behind the armored wall.
One pirate dove overboard, fleeing the hail of bullets. The Zodiac came at them again, ramming the bigger ship a second time. Two men still aboard leapt onto the Explorer’s deck. One fell, landed on his back and fired his rifle at Jacob.
The Major shot the pirate in the back.
Jacob went down clutching his side.
The other pirate ran for the pilothouse, but Tania saw him coming. Closing too fast to shoot him, she slammed her gun into his groin and swept her feet under his knees. He fell. She fired three rounds into his chest.
An explosion rocked the boat at the bow. Tania looked around the pilothouse.
“Ezra’s down!” Tania shouted.
“Jacob’s down,” the Major said.
She scrambled to Jacob, saw he was alive, and looked at the Zodiac. Flames engulfed it, but no one stood on the small deck. Two heads bobbed in the water. She resisted the urge to shoot them.
Tania crept forward of the pilothouse and out of the Major’s sight.
Jacob grabbed her hand with an iron grip and pulled her close.
“I’m hit,” he said. “Just below the vest.” He gasped and struggled for words. “Nothing life-threatening. Get Ezra. Get Ezra!”
“Tania’s getting him,” the Major told Jacob. “Take it easy.”
He nodded. She checked the pirate nearest her, still alive and groaning. She pulled her Glock full of darts and popped him.
“Ezra’s hit bad,” Tania called out. “RPG got him. Sank the boat on this side.”
The Major looked overboard and saw the shore receding quickly. She jumped to her feet and stormed into the pilothouse. She said, “Turn this boat around and take us up river. NOW!”
“Are you out of your mind?” Whittier said
“Do it now or I swear to god I’ll do it myself. My people are back there.”
Whittier glanced at his first mate, who shrugged. Monique Tsogo cowered in the corner, shaking her head and mumbling incoherently.
“Seven men tried to board my ship!” the captain said. “They have F470s, for crissake. Those are military Zodiacs with self-sealing chambers. Eight men went up river in those and you want to go after them? Lady, I don’t know who you—”
The Major pulled the charging handle on her M4 and stuck the barrel in his chest.
“I’m Major Jonelle Jackson, Sabel Security. Those men are pirates who commandeered the Objet Trouvé last month. They’re heading up river to slaughter three of my people. You take me up there or I leave you bleeding on the deck and make your mate the new captain.”
“All right, all right!” Whittier shouted. “But you’re the pirates now. You’re stealing my goddamn ship.”
He turned the boat.
Satisfied they were on course, the Major pushed his throttle over to full.
“Major,” he said when the course stabilized, “you’d better have a look at your man out there.”
She stepped out of the pilothouse and made her way forward. Tania knelt over Ezra, gripping his hand as pain spasmed through his body. His eyes stared skyward. The Major knelt beside them.
“You’re going to make it, you old bastard,” Tania said. “Hang in there. Stay with me.”
“Legs burn.…” Ezra said through clenched teeth.
The Major looked over his wounds, mostly on the back of his legs. Thank God he’d ducked when the grenade went off, but he was losing a lot of blood fast. She checked his head and shoulders, applied pressure to several areas, but arteries in his legs spurted blood onto the deck. She tore a strip from her T-shirt for a tourniquet, wrapped it around his leg, pulled it firmly and tied it off. She tore a second strip from her shirt. Tania grabbed it from her and slipped it around his other leg.
“Two inches above the wound,” the Major said.
“I know where it goes!”
Tania pulled the tourniquet tight and tied it.
“The bleeding will slow because his veins will contract,” Tania said, “but that only lasts a little while. We need to get him to a hospital.”
“Tania, we have to get the others.”
Ezra grabbed Tania’s arm, pulled her close to his face.
“Get them…. I’m not…” He gasped and blood spilled out of his lips. “I’m not… ”
He choked. His body shook and twitched.
“Hang in there, Ezra,” Tania said. “Hang in there and I’ll kiss you all over when we get back.”
Ezra smiled. His face turned pale. Blood spurted out of his legs despite the tourniquets. His eyes went blank. He tried to speak but only coughed up more blood. His body shook violently again. Black bile came out his mouth. Then he was still.
Tania screamed a long, wordless scream, then stood and screeched with all her might at the trawler, “Fuck you! I’ll kill you all!”
The Limbe Explorer slowed and made a wide sweeping turn in the river’s channel.
Tania dropped to Ezra’s side, and slid her arms under his shoulders. She pulled his lifeless form into her lap and hugged him. After a minute, she rose and pulled his body backwards off the foredeck. Tears streamed down her face.
The Major picked up Ezra’s feet.
“Leave him alone!” Tania shrieked. “Leave him alone! He’s mine. Go get Jacob.” She dragged Ezra’s body back behind the pilothouse to the safety of the armor-plated structure.
The Major ran around the other side to find Jacob propped up against the railing. The first mate mopped his wound with a fist full of gauze from a small first aid kit.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said. “This is all we have.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jacob said. “Just…nailed my hipbone. Maybe something insi
de, intestines or spleen. Hurts bad. I’ll live. How’s Ezra?”
She shook her head. Behind Jacob, Tania sat on the deck with Ezra’s body in her arms, running her fingers through his gray hair as she stared out to sea.
Jacob clenched a fist and pounded the deck.
“Like a death wish standing out there. He knew better, goddammit.”
The Major nodded. “If they’d gotten any closer with that RPG…”
“Yeah. He saved us.”
“I see them!” Whittier shouted from inside the pilothouse. “Three hundred meters, one ashore, the other coming about.”
The Major stepped into the small room and followed his pointing finger. One Zodiac was beached and empty. The other was halfway through a turn that would set them head-on and closing the distance fast.
Tania stepped in behind them.
“Ram them,” the Major said. “I’ll blow out the rubber and sink them.”
“Aim low,” Tania said, “metal skirts around the top. Took me a couple shots to figure it out. Get them, I’m going ashore. Looks shallow enough to swim from here.”
“Are you crazy?” Whittier said. “They just killed one of your men and wounded the other. You go out there and they’ll kill you. There were four men on that boat, another three right there.”
“Yeah, Ezra sent their RPG to the bottom of the Atlantic. All they have left are the AK47s. The Major can handle those schoolboys out front. I’ll take down the rest.”
“We’ll hold here until you call in,” the Major said. “If you can get the recon team into their Zodiac, head down river and we’ll cover the retreat. You get tangled up, head up river and try making your way out through the mangroves. We can pick you up out there.”
Whittier slowed. Tania stepped out and jumped overboard into thigh-deep water. Her M4 and a belt with three extra magazines held overhead, she waded ashore while the Limbe Explorer’s engines engaged. It gained momentum and flew at the other Zodiac.
The Major stepped around the pilothouse, stopping near the leading edge. The river was rough where the wakes of the boat chopped it. She aimed low and fired.
A man in the Zodiac’s bow returned fire just before the smaller boat wheeled around and away at full speed. The Major aimed for the engine but missed as it swerved.
Whittier yelled, “Hang on!”
The Explorer’s gears ground and groaned. The bow dipped, the stern rose, and the boat stopped. A second later, the Major realized they were backing up. She ran around the pilothouse and stuck her head in the hatch.
“Shallow water, they’re trying to lure us upstream to ground us,” Whittier said. “We have a shallow draft, only three feet, but they have less than a foot. There’s a sandbar right there.”
She followed his finger and saw the river’s bottom. Even a landlubber could tell the depth was a matter of inches. They stood off four hundred meters, at the outside edge of the M4’s effective range.
The Major said, “Get me as close as you can, I’m a pretty good shot.”
She climbed onto the upper control deck, where shattered Plexiglas littered the floor. A quick crab walk got her to the forward bulkhead. She peeked over the edge. Four men hunkered down in the metal covered raft. Light armor, homemade. They counted on Sabel Security using M4s, which didn’t have enough penetration to clear a thick piece of steel. She pulled a scope out of her waist pack and attached it to her M4. Without a chance to calibrate it, she’d have to dial it in on the fly. She found her first target at the back, most likely the boat’s coxswain. She fired.
The shot was high. She adjusted the scope and tried again. This time they were hugging the bottom of the boat. An arm extended upward and she tried to hit it. Her bullet bounced off sheet metal slung over the outboard motor. Close, but not good enough.
The arm had been twisting the throttle forward. The Zodiac was a moving target. Now the game began in earnest. She jumped over the bulkhead and lay down flat on the pilothouse roof like a sharpshooter. She held her weapon tight and fired three quick shots. None of them hit flesh. As she dialed in another, leading the target by a hair, she saw one of the men rise up and spray bullets in her direction.
Whittier gave the boat a jolt of power, enough to tip the bow upward, then slammed the engines to full stop. Just enough to allow the armored pilothouse roof to give the Major some protection. A trick that would work once.
The Zodiac charged again, swerving left and right as it came. It’s bow high, the wake behind it churned the otherwise peaceful waters. This time three men stood up and sprayed bullets at the Explorer.
The Major leapt over the control deck bulkhead and slid down the ladder to the main deck. Once inside the pilothouse she stopped to think.
“They’re trying to get around us,” she said. She and Whittier watched their approach. “They’ll have a better time firing at us from the back end.”
“Right, and we’re in a narrow channel here. Not enough room to turn around.”
“Then throw it in reverse, that should keep us parallel long enough for me to shoot a couple of them. Increase our odds if they do get behind us.”
“Holy shit,” Whittier said, his mouth and eyes open wide. “Are you serious?”
“Do it!”
She stepped back to the armored gun port Jacob used earlier and looked through it. Limited line of fire, but it might work. At least she wasn’t on the open seas with a wave-tossed deck. She leaned around the outside edge and measured the progress. The Limbe Explorer was gaining speed and the pirates were still unaware. The gap was about a hundred-fifty meters and closing. The Explorer’s drives, built for going forward fast, complained loudly at the reversal. She stepped back to her gun port, strained to see forward as far as possible, and waited.
Nothing came.
She stepped back out and looked up river. Nothing in sight. Wrong side.
She ran to the opposite gun port. Bullets pinged off the armor. She took her position and aimed. When they flew by, she flipped her switch to full-auto and emptied her magazine into the boat.
One body fell overboard.
Whittier called out, “Did you get them?”
Chapter 23
* * *
Boa, Cameroon
26-May, 12:30PM
Miguel emptied a magazine of darts to cover her descent. Pia rolled into the tunnel on her right and held her breath. Big-gut had to know she was there, but he must not know exactly where or he’d have shot her. So long as she was silent, he couldn’t shoot without giving away his position. It came down to a game of stealth. The first to make a mistake would die.
One hand tightened around her M4. The darkened flashlight dangled from her wrist. Other than a dim shaft of light at the ladder, the rest of the pit was pitch black. She felt her way back into the ladder room, a round pit roughly ten feet in diameter. She hugged the wall to prevent even a remnant of light from touching her. She found the edge of the neighboring tunnel, then stopped for a second to consider what she needed to do.
Trick him into giving away his position.
But first, stop trembling. She took a few deep breaths and let them out slowly. As soon as her breathing was back to normal she reached around the wall and aimed the flashlight into the dark recess of the tunnel. Only her hand was exposed, her body still in the dark. She had no need to see down the tunnel. Only to let him think she was going in. She clicked the flashlight on for a split second. One flick was all it took.
Three bullets came from deep in another tunnel. If she were in tunnel number one with number two on her left, numbering around the circle he was in tunnel number five. She would be slightly behind him as he emerged. Perfect.
She scooted over, backed into tunnel number six and aimed at where Big-gut would emerge. She flicked the switch to full auto. She put her phone on mute and whispered into it.
“I’m hit, I’m hit! Somebody get down here.”
Cautious footsteps approached from Big-gut’s tunnel. She raised her M4 and sighted dow
n the barrel. She heard the sound of someone trying to duck-walk but was too fat. She heard his shorts rubbing together. But there was the sound of four feet. Someone was with him. Pia guessed he was shielding himself by placing at least one woman in front of him. A real gentleman.
Pia cried out in pain and made a thrashing noise.
He emerged from the tunnel pushing a bound woman in front of him, his gun pointed at her head. He crouched behind her as he came into the dim light of the ladder chamber. Pia fired a single shot. It missed. Big-Gut ducked and felt the back of his head—the shot had been close.
Pia said, “Hands up or the next one goes through what’s left of your brain.”
He dropped his gun and raised his hands. He froze for a moment then bent down, reaching for his left ankle. Before Pia could yell at him, a gang of angry women poured out of the tunnel behind him. They leapt on him and pounded him with their bound hands. They kicked him with their unbound feet. They yelled obscenities at him through their gags. Pia flicked on the flashlight.
“OK, ladies, I think he’s had enough.” She pressed her gun barrel to his forehead.
Everyone stopped moving.
“Hey, Miguel. Drop down here with a couple knives and help me free these women.”
Miguel slid down the ladder and cut one woman loose, then handed her a knife to free the rest. He patted down Big-gut, found a knife, a radio, and a snub-nose in an ankle holster. Miguel went up first, to hold a dart gun on the captive. Pia sent Big-gut next and followed him up the ladder. Topside, Miguel slapped plasticuffs on him. The first of the freed women came up.
“We have a problem,” Miguel said. “Four of his pals are coming inland right now. We think we have a five-minute lead on them, no more. Another three are blocking our river escape but the Major’s whittling them down.”
Pia turned to the freed women. “Who speaks English?”
Two women raised their hands.
“OK, I need your help. There are three bodies outside, a woman, a man and a boy. They’ve been put to sleep and won’t wake for a couple hours. Tie them to a tree and leave them. Make sure you can see them from a distance. Can you make your way back to Bekumu on your own?”
