Dead Calm

by Jon Schafer

  I've got two targets to take out, she told herself. Behind the bar are two men who stand for everything that's wrong with the world. Two men who have no reason to live and would just continue to feed their sick appetites. Two men who needed to die.

  Tick-Took had told her that the third man was hiding behind some chairs grouped around a table and he would be his first target. The two men behind the bar were also in his line of sight but were near a turn the bar made as it followed the back wall. If they made it around the corner they would have cover, so it was up to Susan to shoot a full clip into the front of the bar as fast as she could from left to right, spacing her shots out every six inches to either kill them or keep them pinned down. He assured her that the high velocity bullets would blow right through the wood of the bar. Meanwhile, he would keep their heads down with suppressing fire as he moved in to finish them off.

  The radio clipped to her jeans crackled to life, interrupting her reverie.

  Steve's voice said, “I should be right below you now. Move out nice and easy and listen for the signal.”

  Either Heather or Tick-Took would send the signal by repeatedly squeezing the transmit button on their radio, causing a series of clicks to be sent to other radios. This was the five-second warning. It meant that either Steve or Susan was in position and the counter-ambush was ready to be sprung.

  Heather and Tick-Took had calculated the best spot for the bait to be on each deck. For Steve, this was about twenty feet into the casino. For Susan, it was halfway through the Sombrero Lounge. Far enough back so that Ricky's men wouldn't open up on her but close enough to bring fire onto the enemy. Susan knew when she heard the signal that she only had five seconds to get ready whether she was in the right place or not. It would be ideal for both her and Steve to be in position at the same time but highly unlikely. The five-second warning would be a small buffer to give them time to get into place.

  Susan keyed the transmit button on her radio to acknowledge Steve. Looking at Mary who was staring placidly out one of the observation windows, she wondered if she was on something. She had a glazed look in her eyes. If so, she had no problem with it other than she hoped Mary would have sense enough to duck when the time came. She almost wished she'd been teamed up with Sheila, but the redhead was too short to pass for Tick-Tock.

  “Mary,” Susan called out. “Are you okay?”

  “Sheila gave me a Valium so I wouldn't freak,” she replied vacantly.

  “You remember what to do though, right?”

  Mary laughed, “I'm not that stoned.” Sobering slightly, she said, “I’m sorry things didn't work out between us.”

  Susan smiled, “It's okay. Things work out the way they're supposed to I guess.” Looking at the thatch and bamboo of the Sombrero Lounge in the distance, she said, “Come on, it's time to go.”

  ***

  George Day looked between the chairs in front of him and could see two people in the distance as they moved along the observation deck. He'd been hearing one of them call out for the past few minutes as they searched for their missing man. At their first shouted, “Brain,” he'd been so startled he almost pulled the trigger on his pistol. Now calmer, he glanced over to where Brothers William and Cal were crouched behind the bar.

  First things first, he thought.

  ***

  Heather peeked around the jumbo slot machine at the back of the casino, marveling at its size. At least eight feet tall and half again as wide, it provided excellent cover and gave her a decent firing position. From here, she could take out two of the three people waiting to kill Steve and Sheila.

  She rehearsed in her head for the tenth time the actions she would take in just minutes. Fire around one side of the jumbo slots to take out target number one. Move quickly to its other side, fire again to take out target number two before breaking cover and moving toward the cage where the last man was hiding. If Steve hadn't killed him by them, one of them would shoot into the cage to keep him down while the other moved forward and took him out.

  Piece of cake, she thought. This was quickly followed by, bullshit; a million things could go wrong. Anything can happen, especially to Steve who'll be standing out in the open. Pushing her worries into a far corner of her mind; she ran through the possibilities of what could happen in the next few minutes. The plan was as solid as they could make it and would have to do. Plus, if she shot accurately enough, they might even get a chance to question one of these assholes and find out where Brain is. Having never considered leaving the tech behind, she was prepared to storm the upper decks to find him.

  Besides, she thought to herself, I've still got to take care of Ricky so I'll be heading that way soon anyway.

  ***

  Steve stood near the arched entrance to the casino, wishing his stomach would stop flip-flopping. He recalled when he worked in Detroit and had been carjacked by two men carrying pistols. They had bumped his car from behind while he was stopped at a red light. When he got out to check the damage, both men drew weapons and started yelling at him to get down on the ground.

  Without hesitation, he pulled his own pistol and opened fire, killing them both.

  Back then I didn't have time to be scared, he thought. I just reacted. Now I've got plenty of time to let my imagination run wild and it sucks. I think I liked it better in Detroit.

  Swallowing hard, he pushed his fear down and stepped forward.

  ***

  Susan entered the Sombrero Lounge a full two minutes before Steve entered the casino. Stopping to check her surroundings, at first she worried her nervousness might betray her. Then she realized it would look unnatural to be entering a darkened area on a cruise ship full of the dead and not look like someone just goosed her.

  Tables with low chairs around them choked the main area of the lounge. On her left, the bar stretched along the wall for twenty feet and then turned at a forty-five degree angle before straightening to run along the back wall a short distance.

  That's where they are, she thought. Behind that little ten foot long stretch of fake pinon wood and brass rails.

  Glancing toward the rear of the lounge, she froze when she thought she saw movement behind one of the tables.

  Damn it, Tick-Tock, she thought angrily. I wish you'd told me where you were hiding. I don't want to shoot you by mistake. Glancing behind her, she saw Mary standing outside the lounge a good fifteen feet behind her near its entrance. Whatever calming effects the Valium might have had on her seemed to have worn off. She looked like a deer in the headlights.

  Mary opened her mouth to say something, so Susan raised her hand to still her. Seeing this, Mary nodded and closed her mouth, then started moving from foot to foot like a child needing to go to the bathroom. Ignoring this, Susan turned her attention back to the bar.

  Eyeing where she would place her first shot, she stepped forward.

  ***

  Tick-Tock crouched behind a planter thirty feet away from George Day. When he'd first arrived on deck seven, he had a hard time finding a vantage point from where he could see into the Sombrero. The difficulty was that the lounge sat near the end of the Centrum on a section of deck set in front of the bank of elevators. On the lower decks this was one big open area, but from deck seven on up this center section had been closed off to divide the huge open space into two smaller spaces. Directly above this was the casino, which was similarly situated. From there, gamblers could look down into Centrum from the front and back.

  The difficulty had been in approaching the lounge. The only cover was a row of large potted plants set at ten-foot intervals along the walkway that surrounded the open section of the Centrum. Moving carefully from plant to plant, he kept checking for any of Ricky's men. He finally located the first one; a gray-haired older man crouched behind a table with a pistol in his hand.

  Tick-Tock continued to look for any others but couldn't spot them. He knew there had to be more than one. Trying to decide if he should back up and circle around from the other side to s
ee if he could spot them, he noticed that gray hair kept glancing to his right. Moving further along the walkway, Tick-Tock spotted two men crouched behind the bar. That's when a slight problem arose, now the table on his left concealed gray hair.

  Moving back along the walkway slightly, Tick-Tock found he could target all three of Ricky's men as long as the two behind the bar didn't move. This was unlikely once the shooting started.

  Gray hair was the biggest threat since he would have a clear line of sight on anyone entering the bar from the front. He had to go first. Tick-Tock was sure he could get one of the men behind the bar but he would need Susan's help to take out the last one. Backtracking to the elevators, he radioed his plan and then resumed his position. He spent the time waiting for Susan by listening to the creaks and groans that the Dead Calm made as she wallowed in the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, his eyes never leaving the spot where he would fire his first round.

  Hearing Susan calling out for Brain long before he saw her, Tick-Tock drew a bead on the center of gray hair's back. When Susan finally came into view; he waited until she was ten feet into the lounge before he took his hand off the fore grip of his rifle and reached down to start keying his radio.

  This was when Susan stopped and started looking around.

  Come on, babe, Tick-Tock urged as he waited for her to take another few steps and allow him to trigger the ambush. Seeing gray hair move slightly, his free hand flew back to his rifle. Starting to squeeze the trigger, he let up when he saw the man was only shifting his weight from one foot to another.

  Susan finally took a step so Tick-Tock reached for his radio again, hoping Steve was in position.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  And it wasn't Tick-Tock who started it.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Dead Calm:

  George Day saw the woman move again and decided it was time to make his move. Knowing he was pitting himself against one of Satan's minions and that he would have to be fast and his aim true, he flexed his legs once in preparation before popping up from behind the table.

  Screaming out, “Die spawn of Satan,” he saw the woman in front of him flinch in surprise at his sudden outburst. After assessing the situation in an instant, he decided that he'd made the right decision on who to shoot first. He could see that the woman's rifle was pointing away from him in the direction of the bar and knew this would give him time to do what he needed before killing her. Already pointing his own weapon in the right direction, George felt adrenalin surge through him as he lined Brother Cal up in the sights of his pistol and squeezed the trigger four times. Spinning back toward the woman, he steadied his aim to use the last two bullets in the pistol to send her to Hell.

  ***

  Clusterfuck, Tick-Tock's mind screamed when he saw gray hair pop up and start yelling about Satan. He wasn't completely ready as his left hand was keying his radio’s transmit button, but his right was still wrapped around the pistol grip of his M-4. Reacting instantly to the situation, he squeezed off a loosely aimed three round burst even as he heard gray hair's pistol fire four times. The thought ran through his head that he had been too slow. Way too slow. There was no way gray hair could miss hitting Susan.

  But even before this thought was complete; Tick-Tock was trying to understand what he was seeing. Gray hair hadn't shot at Susan. He’d fired behind the bar. Wondering what the hell was going on, but relieved to see Susan still standing and gray hair going down from the rounds he'd fired, he jumped up to close with the enemy. Switching his aim to the bar, he opened fire as he ran.

  ***

  George Day felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Then it felt like he no longer had legs supporting his body. His vision started to go black and he felt weak. It was as if his muscles had turned to water. Not understanding what had happened, but resolving to finish God's work, he focused all his energy into pulling the trigger of his pistol and managed to fire one round at the Jezebel before he died.

  ***

  Susan saw the man jump up and fire four rounds behind the bar before turning toward her. Trying to bring her rifle around, she knew she'd never make it in time. Her only hope was that her Kevlar vest would stop the bullets. She was tensing her body up as if it might repel the bullets she knew were coming her way when she saw the man aiming at her jerk as if he had been shocked. A red mist erupted from two spots on his chest as if by magic and he started to drop. She saw a muzzle flash erupt from the barrel of his pistol even as it registered in her brain that the crazy man had been shot from behind. What she was seeing were exit wounds. Susan could see that nutso's pistol wasn't pointed at her when it had gone off so she discarded it as a threat. Putting her mind on task, she heard Mary scream from behind her as she turned her attention back to the bar and started rapidly squeezing the trigger of her rifle.

  Tick-Tock had covered half the distance to the bar before George Day's body hit the floor. He saw Susan recover quickly and open fire into the front of the bar as he triggered his own weapon in continuous three round bursts toward its back.

  Wood splintered, bottles shattered and the air was filled with the smell of dozens of top shelf liquors as both Tick-Tock and Susan poured fire into the bar's front and side. Tick-Tock reached the end of the bar and emptied his rifle into two shadowy shapes lying behind it before ducking down and switching magazines. Peeking around its edge, he saw what looked like two lumps of hamburger.

  Tick-Tock would never know it, but in his excitement to kill Brother Cal, George Day's first shot hit Brother William in the side of the head. His other three rounds had missed both men completely but the fusillade of bullets from Susan and him hadn't. The damage they had done was readily apparent. Both of the Head Ushers had been hit at least a dozen times and looked like they had gone through a wood chipper face first.

  Seeing that it was safe, Tick-Tock turned to Susan and asked, “You okay? Are you hit?”

  Susan stared blankly at him, in shock from what had just occurred. Moving forward and taking her in his arms, Tick-Tock could feel her start to shake as post-battle nerves kicked in. He wanted to take some time and calm her but knew they still had to help Steve. He couldn't hear shooting from the deck above but with all the noise he and Susan had made it would have been masked anyway. Unclipping his radio, he pulled slightly away from Susan and was about to raise the walkie-talkie to his mouth when he heard, “Anytime you two are done sucking face, do you think you could give me a hand? I think I got shot.”

  In the aftermath of the firefight, they had forgotten about Mary.

  Both he and Susan rushed to where she was sitting on the floor behind one of the tables. Looking over the top, the first thing they noticed was the blood.

  Lots of it.

  ***

  Steve was fifteen feet from what he considered the optimal place to spring their ambush when he heard a series of clicks issuing from his radio. The first three had barely sounded when he also heard muffled shots coming from below. Recognizing pistol shots instead of rifle fire, he feared for Tick-Tock, Susan and Mary as he swung into action.

  From in front of him, automatic weapons fire roared as Heather opened up on her first target. Steve spun to his left as he shouldered his rifle, aiming it into the cashier's cage.

  Too late, his mind screamed as he saw the inside of the cage light up from a muzzle flash. At the same time he felt an impact on the chest as if a giant had balled up its fist and struck him. The man inside the cage had been alerted by the sound of shooting coming from below and had fired first.

  Staggered by the impact of the .38 caliber bullet, Steve brought his rifle back to bear even as he heard screams of pain and more firing from his right. Squeezing the trigger, he pumped it in multiple three round bursts as he watched his bullets tearing up the security grill covering the front of cashier's cage. Another muzzle flash erupted from inside even as his first rounds hit home. This time, he felt the impact on his solar plexus. The air rushed out of him. Gasping, he realized he'd
emptied his magazine so he dropped down behind a nickel slot machine and switched it with a full one.

  Crying out in pain as he levered himself back up, he squeezed the trigger on his M-4 and sent another twenty-eight rounds into the front of the cashier's cage. This time there was no return fire.

  Only able to take little sips of air and barely able to stand the pain, Steve cradled his wounded chest as he dropped into a fetal position and rocked back and forth on the floor. Hearing Heather calling his name, he answered weakly as he felt a little more lung capacity come back. Of all the ways to be injured, getting the wind knocked out of him was the one he hated the most. His vision was graying out when he became aware of Heather bending over him, asking where he'd been hit.

  He croaked out the word, “Chest,” which sent her into a flurry of motion as she ripped open his shirt and started frantically pulling at the Velcro straps that secured the Kevlar vest to his body. Pushing back on Steve's shoulder to straighten him out and lifting the front flap on the vest up, she reached down and felt for any wounds since the dim light of the casino made it difficult to see. Feeling wetness, a bolt of fear shot through her until she pulled her hand back and realized that it wasn't blood; it was sweat.

  The Kevlar had stopped both bullets.

  After checking the rest of Steve's body by touch, she was relieved to find no open wounds. Even in the dim light, she could see two dark bruises starting to form, one on the chest above his heart and one at the sternum. Worried about internal injuries, she told him to lay still and not to move while she took care of something.

  Calling for Sheila, she made her way to where Brother Seth lay unconscious in a pool of blood. He had been her first target but the only thing she’d been able to see of him was his feet and lower legs. This is what she'd aimed for. She was satisfied to see that her first, three rounds burst had hit him in the left foot, almost severing it. Two rounds of her second burst had hit him in the right calf. Blood oozed around bone splinters of what was left of Seth's foot, so Heather grabbed an apron worn by one of the dealers that had been left hanging from the back of a chair and twisted it into a tourniquet. Seeing what she was doing, Sheila said venomously, “Let the pig bleed out.”