Glen & Tyler's High Seas Hijinks (Glen & Tyler Adventures Book 4)

by JB Sanders

  The Admiral snorted. “That’s silly.”

  Tyler shook his head. “I know, but they’ve made it work wither at least seven other ships that we know, and all of them were this size. Your ship is absolutely ideal for this.”

  The Admiral nodded. “I can see that. Let’s hope it works as designed. For both ships.”

  Actual, Honest-to-God Pirates

  Their normal radio cut out with a nasty burst of static about eleven that night.

  Tyler pushed a button. “Odysseus to Diomedes, we can see the walls. Over.”

  There was a pop, and then a voice said quite clearly, “Diomedes to Odysseus, walls in sight, check. All the refreshments are ready. Over.”

  Tyler smiled. “See? Even our special radio is working. No worries.”

  “There’s plenty to worry about in this operation, sir.”

  “Yes, as you’ve mentioned more than once during the planning, and during the trip, and then again just now.” Tyler sighed. “And you know why we have to do things this way.”

  James looked around. They were alone on the bridge of the ship. “You know I wouldn’t say this if the others were here, but … I think you do this for the thrill, and it’s driving me a little crazy. Sir.”

  Tyler’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, shit, James, I’m sorry. I know it must seem like that. I know there might be safer ways of doing this, but I really think this is the surest way. Anything less, and they won’t stick their basically invisible necks out.”

  “And the same could be accomplished with enough time, resources, and trained people. All of which you have. But we’re here.”

  Tyler winced. “Ok, yeah, but if you had this much objection, why are you here?”

  “Someone has to see you through this crazy plan.” James checked his gear again, like a nervous tick. “And you do have a point. More people will definitely die if they grab more ships.”

  James sighed.

  Tyler put a hand on James’ shoulder. “You have my word, no more of this crap after this. Glen and I are going to retire to a nice place upstate, and grow flowers or something. Play a little hockey. Drink, play video games, and try to make the world a better place. But no gun play, no crazy stupid plans. I’m really serious about that. Glen and I already had a version of this conversation.”

  James sighed again and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  ***

  A few minutes later, in a cramped, hidden compartment, Tyler watched on his tiny screen as the large ship — it looked like a perfectly normal container ship — plowed towards their comparatively small vessel. It was going fast, faster than a ship that had any intention of turning would go. The video was a little grainy, and all in shades of green because of the low-light camera, but Tyler could see as the prow of the ship began to … split.

  It was like a whale swallowing a minnow. The vertically split bow of the ship, now creating two wakes in the water like a catamaran, came towards them like a moving cave. One moment they were under way, proceeding at a pretty good clip. The next, the boat was in darkness.

  Their compartment rocked as the boat shook. Then there was a grinding, and then a whine, just before the boat’s engines cut out. There were a few smaller shocks, and then the boat was still — unnaturally so for still being on the ocean.

  From Tyler’s right came Tim’s voice. “Analyzer’s showing gas, looks like a knock-out agent.”

  Reflexively, Tyler checked his air levels in the enclosed breather he was using. The secret compartments in the boat were airtight, but it paid to be extra careful when you were dealing with murderous pirates.

  A few minutes passed. The cameras on and around the borrowed boat were still dark. Tyler could have them turn on the UV floodlights, but it didn’t pay to be reckless with the equipment. Who knew what the interior sensing abilities of crazy pirate smugglers with too much money were like?

  Tim grunted. “Air flow reversed. They’re pulling out the gas. We should be clear in two minutes.”

  James quietly reminded his team of the order they’d be going in and then indicated two men. “You two, with Tyler. Tackle him if he makes a move to go first. Or when the firing starts.”

  A moment later, the various teams very quietly dropped out of the hidden hatches in the bottom of the Hippo. Quietly, they crept forward in the service passages beneath the boat cradle. The hull of their boat stretched above them, black and dripping seawater. In less than a minute, the teams had made it to various service hatches, and were gone.

  Making an Entrance

  Maria Sandoval leaned back in her Corinthian leather chair and surveyed the monochrome green video feed showing the exterior of Conrad’s stupid yacht, now docked within her own larger ship. The man was simply infuriating, and if the rumors were to be believed, dangerous. Maria didn’t particularly care about the danger — everyone she worked for was dangerous, ranging up to psychotically murderous at times. This time, however, a little planning, some foresight, and the element of surprise had delivered Conrad into her hands.

  And the all-important list.

  Her bosses had begun to rely on her, and she wasn’t going to start failing now. The list of undercover government agents would go a very long way towards ensuring that Maria became part of the cartel’s inner circle. Maybe not now, but in a few years, she could see a path to running things. It wouldn’t take very much, not with this.

  The video clicked over to full color as the lights came up. Her men swarmed the ship, wearing riot gear and gas masks.

  The radio buzzed. “Señora, we have a problem.”

  Señora Sandoval pressed the talk button. “No we don’t Enrique. We have a ship, Conrad, and the information.”

  There was a long pause. “No, Señora, we have a ship, yes but Conrad, his men, and the list are not on board.”

  Maria stood up before she knew what was happening. “Search again. Take any paper you see, and anything that might be electronic storage. Then sink the ship.”

  She disconnected, and then pressed the button for the bridge. “Dominic. Active sonar. Conrad made off in one of his idiotic submarines before we got to his ship. We need to find it. Now.”

  “Si, Señora.” Dominic said.

  Maria nodded. He thought he was going to get away from her. He’d better think twice. She pressed the button for the boat bay. “Alex, send out the fast boats, coordinate with Dominic’s sonar techs. Set up a search. There’s a sub out there and we need to find it.”

  She released the talk button and sat back. Now she just needed to work out how to get a submarine to surface long enough to be boarded.

  ***

  The climb through the inside of the hull was a giant pain in the ass. Tyler decided right then that they’d have to get a climbing wall, and do this more often. It was ridiculous how much his legs hurt.

  They reached the right level after a ten minute lateral climb near the mid-part of the ship, and a fifteen minute vertical climb from there. Most of that time was due to their need for silence. It wouldn’t do to bang around and make people wonder why the rats had guns and climbing equipment.

  James consulted a laminated map using a UV flashlight. They were all wearing special goggles that let them switch between various visual modes, including the light-concentrating mode that made whatever tiny amount of light there was bright. In between hulls of a multi-hulled vessel, however, there wasn’t light of any kind.

  James nodded at Tyler, then used hand gestures to indicate that they had arrived. The rest of the guys got busy applying a playdoh-looking substance to the panel in front of them, all along the edges of the great metal wall. Once that was in place, Kevin secured a padded jack between the target wall, and the one they currently had their backs to, and then gave it a few quiet, greased cranks. Nothing happened — yet.

  Everyone got into position. James counted down on his hand, and then pointed to Sven, who pressed a button on a tiny remote. They all turned off the special vision as the dark area was lit by the burning
light around the edges of the metal wall. Thick smoke curled up and away, slightly obscuring their vision.

  ***

  Maria sat up in her chair, startled, as the window-less wall on the sea side of her large office began to burn. In the two seconds she had before the wall hit the floor, she dropped behind her large, solid desk, and drew the spare pistol holstered there. She lined up a shot on whoever was going to come through the large opening.

  When the small black cylinder came rolling through the opening and stopped on her prized Kuba rug, she pulled back and covered her ears. But it was too late. The flash-bang grenade made an extremely loud noise, a very bright light, and knocked her silly.

  She had the dim impression of many men in combat gear, breathing masks like divers, and smoke. Then she was hauled up, and secured to her own chair with zip ties. She started to come out of it as Conrad removed his mask.

  The maddening man smiled at her. “Hi!”

  She didn’t reply; couldn’t right then. Between the grenade and her fury, no words could make it to her lips.

  “Sorry to barge in like this, but we simply had to meet again. I’m Tyler Conrad. But you probably already know that.”

  He started walking around her luxurious office, looking at her Impressionist paintings, the Winslow near the door, and the large TV that provided an outside view at all times. It was made to seem like a picture window, with a live view of the night sea. A real window would be difficult to cover up in their covert container ship and impossible in this location, given the double exterior hull.

  “This is really nice. Seriously, you have astonishingly good taste for someone in the piracy business. This whole covert headquarters is very swanky, too, I think I’ll have to do one for myself. Maybe in an old oil tanker. Carve out the inside, add a few pools, a hockey rink of course, maybe a garden or two. You know, go full James Bond villain on it, since I seem to be fulfilling that role these days. I’ll skip the shark tank, though. Too messy.” He paused to look at her. “Awake yet? Feel like talking?”

  She gave him a look intended to freeze him solid. “What could you possibly say that won’t eventually lead to your grisly death.”

  Behind the men immediately around Conrad, there was some activity at her desk. The chair she was strapped to was in the middle of the room and turned around, but she could see their movement in the reflection on the glass over the Manet.

  Conrad smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Ooh! Are we to the threats part of the conversation now? Cool! You guys ready over there?”

  She and Conrad both turned to look at the men clustered around her computer, the intercom, and the other controls she had. She couldn’t quite run the entire ship from her office, but she could give it the old college try.

  One of the men gave Conrad a thumbs-up.

  “Excellent! I brought along a little show and tell. I find that visual images are far more convincing than words to convey the right message.” One of the men handed Conrad a remote. He clicked it, and her “window” switched to six camera feeds. There was one of the bridge, the engine room, the radio compartment, the server room, and her office. That last was a bit of a shock. She didn’t know there was a camera hidden … in … here.

  She tensed her jaw. So the inner circle didn’t trust her. Well, that knife cut both ways.

  “I see you’ve caught on to what your position is, relative to your bosses in—“ Conrad looked over at one of his men.

  “South America. Somewhere.” The man shrugged. Maria smiled to herself. As if the man’s techs would overcome the cartel’s security.

  “So, your bosses didn’t trust you very much. And when you told them that I had the information they wanted, they said to go ahead, get him. Then they sat back to watch what happened.” Conrad waved his hand at the hidden camera. “Hi, folks! How’s it going? Hope you’ve got the audio feed ok, because I want to be sure you get this.”

  Conrad moved into the best position to be framed by the camera. He checked the view of himself in the feed from the hidden camera twice, and finally settled.

  “So, you suborned a member of my government — the US government to be specific, since I’m bi-national these days — and got ahold of a classified list so you could kill undercover agents. Kind of despicable, but hey — you’re a crime cartel. Spies are bad. I could kind of understand that. But then you let this woman,” Here he gestured at Maria. “Seize ships mid-ocean, kill or enslave the crew, and sink their ships. That’s just mean.” Conrad shook his head. “And of course, you’re thinking about killing me. And mine. That just won’t do. Quite aside from those Paris idiots being on the hook for any attempts on my life, which really motivates them, let me tell you, there’s a few other little items you should know.”

  Maria had about all she could stand. “You’re insane. My men will be here in moments, and you won’t survive the gun fight.”

  “I probably wouldn’t survive the explosive they would have used to open the door. But they won’t be coming.”

  She blinked at his certainty. “Why?”

  “You think this is the only team I brought? Or the only one I have? Señora Sandoval, I employ over three hundred crazy awesome security people — all former military.” He shrugged. “This setup is child’s play to them. I took over the ship before we even knocked down your wall.”

  She sighed. This man. Simply crazy. “They’ll gut you like a fish and leave the entrails for your family to find.”

  “Do you know what the difference is between me and the typical super-rich guy?”

  “You’re forty years younger and far better looking?”

  “Yes, and thanks for that, but no, not what I meant. What I have, above all the others, is the willingness to spend my money.”

  She regarded him cooly and looked around at the ship. It was her only reply.

  “Oh yes, you’ve picked up that skill quite well. But you still have a drive to make money, to find ways to grab it, and even this magnificent vessel is another part of that drive. It’s a secret base of operations, it has the ability to make ships disappear.” Tyler shook his head. “Do you know what I completely lack? Any interest in making money at all. None. I use all my time working hard to spend my money. And do you know what I do with it?”

  “Oh, I sense that you’re going to tell me, Mr. Conrad.”

  Tyler smiled. “I am going to tell you, because it’s important that you understand this point. I spend my money to improve the world.” Tyler put up his hands and gave a bow.

  She didn’t clap. “What a sanctimonious speech. Did you practice that pathetic little sermon all afternoon?”

  Tyler straightened, pulled on a cuff of his combat armor, and slipped his face into a cold expression like he’d just pulled on a boxing glove. “Oh, that? Completely off the cuff. Sentiments were true, but that wasn’t really the purpose of my speech.”

  “And what did you think it was going to accomplish?”

  Conrad glanced over at the men at the desk again, specifically the one with the pale blocky face. The man nodded and smiled.

  In reply, Conrad clicked the remote again. This time, it was four satellite feeds, overhead views in thermal imaging. She couldn’t make out the details, but there were a lot of bright people-shapes running around dim-looking building shapes that looked disturbingly familiar. It took her a moment, and then she pulled back into her chair.

  It couldn’t be!

  “What did I hope to accomplish with all this talking? I was being my usual magnetic, long-winded self, going on about how rich and invulnerable I am, so that the cartel guys would have a good laugh watching. You see, if you want to conduct a night raid on cartel strongholds, and you want to be sure you’re getting the bosses, you need them to all be somewhere you can find them. You need something to get them to their computers, some video feed that they had to watch live. Say, for instance, their spy cameras on this ship when it was obvious I was on board, and they thought I had their oh-so-important list of spies.
Then they watched even longer when it was obvious I had managed to turn the tables on you. And then I gave them a speech.” Conrad beamed. “More than long enough for the MI6 guys to be certain they’re getting the right targets.” Conrad pointed at her, and then at himself. “We were just bait.”

  ***

  A few minutes earlier.

  Glen leaned over Bertie’s shoulder and pointed at a display. “I believe that’s our signal.”

  Bertie sighed, and began pressing buttons rapidly. “Yes, Glen, it is. Do you hover over every professional you work with? It must take a huge bite out of your schedule.”

  “Sorry. Nerves.” Glen leaned back from the complicated communications gear in the sub’s radio room. It had all been newly installed for Glen and Tyler’s sailing trip — not that the sub was doing much in the way of sailing.

  “Quite alright. Hang on a moment.” Bertie, more properly LS York in his current role, pressed a button and spoke into his headset. “Diomedes to Zues. Diomedes to Zues. The stars have aligned. Repeat, the stars have aligned. Over.”

  “Roger that, Diomedes, this is Zues. Stars aligned. Out.”

  Bertie leaned back. “Well, that’s done it. We’ve zeroed in on the satellite they’re using, and the big boys have picked it up. It’s just a matter of time, now.”

  “All that from the little buoy?” Glen looked impressed.

  “Yes, well, that ‘little buoy’ has several million pounds sterling of electronics gear inside it and probably six years of research. Between it’s interception ability and HQ’s processing power, we’ll triangulate the blighters.”

  Glen got an amused look on his face. “Do you know you talk like P.G. Wodehouse?”

  Bertie smiled. “Why thank you, Jeeves.” Bertie leaned back in his chair, and regarded Glen. “I’ve been meaning to ask, if you can tell me, how did they know what locations to hit? I only just narrowed down the locations.”