by J. B. Hawker
“Psst! Gulad, what do you think is going on down there?” one pirate called to the other.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like the way the prisoners are looking at us. I’m afraid they are getting ideas about escaping, too.”
“Ah, don’t worry! We’ve got the guns, remember?”
Below, a storeroom door opened, a shot rang out and another pirate fell dead.
Floyd and his group held their breath and waited for the rest of the hijackers to rush in to avenge their fallen comrade, but nothing happened.
After several moments of silence, Floyd crept out from behind the cartons and walked over to where the pirate’s body blocked the doorway. Stepping over the man, he walked out into the corridor and disappeared from sight.
Floyd was gone for nearly five minutes. When he returned he told the others they seemed to be alone.
“So, what do we do, now?” Marco piped up.
“When we hit those stairs during the escape, Warren was urging everyone to keep going on down, lower and lower. I’ll bet our folks on the lower decks could use a hand, especially if it has a gun in it,” Tricia offered.
“So, do you think we should all go? I’m not so sure Marco’s mother is up to any more gunplay,” Floyd remarked.
Marcella was pale and obviously shaken.
“I can stay here with my mother. We will be safe in our fort,” Marco said. Could you move the dead man and shut the door?”.
“I think that’s a good idea, kid. If anyone looks in, just keep low. Floydie can take this guy’s rifle and leave the pistol with you. You know what to do. Aim for the gut. It’s a bigger target. Just don’t shoot unless it’s one of the bad guys, okay?”
Marco nodded.
“This fella’s got a pistol on him, too, Tricia. We’ll both be well-armed,” Floyd called as he searched the body before dragging it out into the corridor.
Tricia joined her husband, pulling the door shut behind her.
“Thank you, Marco. I would have gone to help, but I am so happy to stay here with you.”
“I’ll take care of you, Mama,” Marco vowed and assumed Floyd’s position at the gun port.
Floyd and Tricia descended to the lower deck at the far end of the ship from the stairs they fled down earlier.
Emerging near the back entrance to the machine room, they stood listening at the door before cautiously pulling it open. Squinting into the dimness the room seemed empty. They eased in and softly pulled the door shut behind them.
Tiptoeing across the large empty space, alert to the shadows all around, they heard a sound.
“Psst! Over here,” Warren hissed, standing to show himself as soon as he recognized the couple. “Say, you two are pretty well-armed. What happened to Marco and his mom?”
“They’re fine. We left them in a snug little spot and came on down to see if you need any help,” Tricia responded.
“Did you run into any pirates?”
“Just the one. This is his rifle,” Floyd said and held up the gun.
“Any sight of the rest of our bunch?” Tricia asked.
“The Ambroses are over there behind a crate. You passed them when you came in. That young dancer, and Max and his wife are over there behind that turbine. Bunny was shot when we made a break for it, though. I’m afraid she may not make it.”
“Well, that’s too bad. What about the lezzies?” Tricia asked.
“If you mean Samantha and Celine, they were the first down the stairs, but they were out of sight before we even got through the door. I don’t know where they went. I just hope they found a safe place.”
“Well, of course. I don’t wish ‘em any harm. ‘To each her own,’ is how we see it. Right, Floydie?”
“Sure. None of my business what goes on behind closed doors, except my own. Just don’t see why folks have to make such a public to-do over things best kept private.”
“Well, that’s neither here nor there, now. What’s the plan, Warren? You want us to hunker down with the rest of you and wait for those bastards to poke their noses in here, so we can blow them off for ‘em?”
“We’ve been hoping to just hide out long enough for help to arrive, but now that you and your guns are here, we might want to re-think our strategy, Tricia,” Warren replied.
“Do we know where the filthy buggers are?” Floyd asked.
“I’ve been hearing doors slamming for a while, but I don’t think there are many men searching this deck. They would have been here by now.”
“There were a couple of dozen when they attacked, but we only counted nine on deck when we broke out, and with the one you guys killed, that leaves eight of ‘em that we know about. Could be more scattered around the ship, but at least half a dozen jumped ship or got killed trying,” Tricia recounted.
“And now we have three of us armed with guns, against at least eight armed pirates,” Warren said.
“Seven. You can’t count the one we took our weapons off of,” Floyd corrected.
“If you got both your guns from the dead man, where’s the Glock?”
“We left it with the kid to protect his mama. They weren’t really up to too much more excitement.”
“So, that makes four of us who have guns, counting Marco, in a pinch, against maybe seven bloodthirsty Somalis. I’ve had worse odds,” Warren continued. “Three against seven, when the seven are in a position to walk into an ambush, isn’t half bad.”
The three moved into the shadows and continued planning their strategy in low voices.
“Looks as though the cavalry’s arrived,” Marki commented to Max from their hiding place. Getting no response, she turned around to look at him.
Max remained as she last observed him, bent over Bunny’s inert form, holding her hand and stroking her arm while pleading with her.
“Come on, Sweetie, hang in there. Don’t leave me, Buns. We’re going to get out of this and everything’s going to be okay, just hang on, please, just hang on,” Max entreated, adding, “please, God.”
This devastated man, her father, was not the same monster described with such relentless anger and hate to Marki by her mother. Either her mother had lied or Max really was a changed man. Marki was beginning to think it may be a little of each, if the truth were known.
When Warren and her father had carried Bunny into the alcove, they laid her as gently as possible near the far bulkhead. Max had removed his tee-shirt to make a pillow for Bunny’s wounded head.
Seeing this, Marki was stirred to remove the shawl sarong Virginia had loaned her and to cover Bunny with it. With the shirttails untied, Warren’s tropical shirt fell almost to Marki’s knees and provided the girl with sufficient coverage, as if that mattered, now.
Marki was re-evaluating just what would matter if they managed to survive.
Up on the dark deck, the passengers had been treated to a spectacular sunset, although few even noticed.
Within the pool area, one who did appreciate the cerise and violet sky was Philadelphia non-profit executive Aidsand Hobart-Higgins. Sitting on the back end of one of the pool’s low diving boards, he commented to his wife, Betty, “Even in this seemingly Godforsaken place, we are blessed by the glory of creation.”
“If these are our last moments on Earth, we can be thankful to have them filled with beauty,” she agreed.
Aidsand had been looking into his family tree online for the past few years. The couple chose this cruise for their vacation when they discovered one of its ports of call was near his ancestral village.
The two pirates standing guard were strolling in opposite directions around the pool’s perimeter, outside the security fence.
Watching them pause and chat with each other in passing, Aidsand looked thoughtful then stood and worked the stiffness from his shoulders before speaking.
“Just think, Betty, if my great-great-great grandfather had not been brought to the States as a slave, I might have been born in a village just like these men. I might be one of them.”
/> “I don’t believe that for a nanosecond, my dear. No matter where you were born, you are too moral and empathetic to ever commit such atrocities.”
“We can’t know that. If I had only these men’s opportunities and experiences, I may not have had the luxury of developing scruples or empathy. How much of a man’s character is innate and how much the result of his environment, after all? Has that quandary ever been resolved?”
“So, you are determined to give even these savage brutes the benefit of the doubt?” Betty asked with a smile. “You just proved my point.”
“You should feel sorry for them, too, you know. They can never win.”
“Why do you say that? They seem to have the advantage, just now.”
“They cannot win because they are on the side of evil, and evil can only destroy, it cannot create, build up or endure. Eventually it leads to its own destruction. Only good creates anything worthy.
The couple sat silently a few moments, Aidsand looking at his fellow captives.
“About how many of us are there, do you estimate?” he asked.
“Maybe fifty or sixty? I’ve never thought to count.”
“And how many armed guards do you see?”
“Only two, of course. The others are tracking down the passengers that slipped away.”
“What do you suppose would be the result if all fifty or sixty of us rushed the two of them? They could never kill us all.”
“They wouldn’t have to,” Betty responded. “They only need to convince us they are willing to kill one of us, as they’ve already done. No one wants to take the chance of being the next one.”
“I suppose you’re right. There’s not much chance of convincing this whole crowd to act in unison in such a dangerous attempt...but, perhaps it doesn’t require a mass act of bravery. Much can be accomplished by a single courageous act.”
“What are you considering, husband? I don’t think I like what you are leading up to.”
“Look, since the day we were herded into these ‘compounds’ the guards have been relieving themselves just around that corner there, over the side into the sea.”
“So? What do their horrible manners matter?”
“These two have been on watch since the escape, with no breaks. Soon one or the other is going to take a stroll around the corner and leave the other one on his own.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“If, when one fellow gets around the corner, there were a commotion at that far end of the pool, say if someone were to fall into the water with a loud splash, the man left on guard might be distracted enough not to see someone else slipping through the pool gate, just there, and following his mate to the latrine.”
“You are seriously going to do this?”
“As soon as one of them responds to the call of nature, if you’ll help.”
“But, my dear, what about the children? If anything happened to you, they would be inconsolable, as would I.”
“Betty, a man has far greater responsibilities than to his immediate family. In the battle between good and evil, one must act on the side of good to avoid serving the forces of evil.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
For I also am a man under authority, having soldiers under me. ─ Matthew 8:9
Max thought he saw Bunny’s eyelids flutter. Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear, “That’s it, Sweetie, you can do it. Come back to me, now.”
Bunny emitted a low moan and opened one eye before slowly closing it and lying still once again.
Max’s heart sank.
He needed to do something. He could not just sit by while Bunny slipped away. He put his fingers on her neck. Her pulse felt strong to his touch, making him more hopeful.
“How’s she doing?” Marki asked.
“She opened her eyes for a second, but now she’s out again.”
“She was shot in the head, right?”
Max nodded.
“Well, I don’t mean to be cruel, but maybe it’s better if she doesn’t hang on…I mean, if she’s going to be a vegetable…”
“Don’t even think that! She’s going to recover, I know it. She might not be quite the same when she comes around…at first, anyway…but she will still be my wife. When I promised ‘in sickness and in health’, this time I really meant it. We’re going to get through this, no matter what it takes. She just has to hang on until we can get her to a doctor.”
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Max.”
Marki felt miserable. She hadn’t expected Max to be so…intense, or something. She really didn’t understand him, at all, but she was beginning to think she might like to know more about this stranger who was her father. Maybe if she could stop always saying the wrong thing…
On deck, the two guards had paused on their rounds. The shorter one gestured toward the secluded area of the deck and began walking in that direction.
Seeing this, Aidsand nodded to Betty, and then began sidling toward the pool gate as his wife walked in the opposite direction, making her way through the tightly clustered prisoners.
By the time the guard slipped out of sight in the pirates’ latrine area, Betty was at the far end of the pool where she managed to stumble into one of the other passengers and fall in. She reached out for balance and pulled the hapless fellow in after her, hitting the water with a loud splash.
The pirate still on duty shouted and ran up to see what was going on.
Aidsand, standing in the shadow of a cabana, took this opportunity to unlatch the gate, slide through and disappear after his quarry.
Keeping his bulk pressed tightly into the shadows, he looked around and spied his man about twenty yards away.
The scruffy marauder was standing on tiptoe up against the railing with his gun propped against his side and both his hands occupied at the front of his trousers.
Forcing down rising fear, Aidsand rushed forward and hit the man in the upper back with all his considerable weight. The pirate pitched head down over the rail, only his bent legs keeping him from falling into the sea. Aidsand grabbed his kicking feet and threw them as high as he could.
With a shout, the man plunged into the water, disappearing in the waves surrounding the moving ship.
Aidsand stood for a moment trembling and trying to accept what he had just done. With a quick shake of his head to clear his senses, he bent and retrieved the pirate’s automatic rifle and hurried away from the pool area around to the other side of the ship.
He was sure the pirate’s last desperate cry would bring his compatriot running.
Having almost circumnavigated the ship, he was about to reach the pool area again. Realizing no one was in pursuit, he stopped, his sides heaving and his breath coming in gasps.
Peering around an abutment, he could see the guard holding his rifle on the mass of restless prisoners. The man was gazing with a worried frown in the direction his friend had gone.
Aidsand hesitated only a moment before stepping forward and shouting, “Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot!”
The pirate whipped around with his rifle at the ready. His first wild shot struck the deck yards from his target, and Aidsand ducked quickly back out of sight.
Suddenly the deck was brightly illuminated and a loud voice rang out, “Drop your weapons and lie face down on the deck.”
The helicopter came up very quickly, the sound of its rotors now drowning out all other sounds as six Navy SEALS in full attack gear rappelled down cables suspended from its undercarriage.
Landing with a series of thumps, the men quickly surrounded the pirate and Aidsand, with weapons drawn.
“On your face. Now!”
Aidsand did as he was instructed, as quickly as possible, flinging the stolen rifle away.
A few yards from him the pirate was also prostrate before the superior forces.
The SEAL eyed Aidsand, taking in his plus-sized khaki Dockers, white deck shoes and lavender polo shirt, and decided there was little chance this fri
ghtened middle-aged man was one of the pirates.
“Stand up,” he instructed. “What’s your name and what were you doing with that weapon?”
Aidsand gave his name and occupation before explaining, “I took the gun from one of the pirates. I was trying to help the others retake the ship. I’m afraid I’m not very good at it, though.”
“What others are you talking about?” the serviceman responded, looking with skepticism at the cluster of cowed prisoners.
Aidsand relaxed now that he no longer felt he was under suspicion. He explained the earlier escape and what he knew of the events since.
“All the other pirates are on the lower decks trying to catch the passengers who got away. The only one who came back up, a pirate, was badly injured. He died before he could tell anyone what was happening. Anyway, with only the two guards here on deck, it seemed to me it was a good chance to help. I did manage to push one of the pirates overboard and take his rifle, but, if you hadn’t arrived when you did, I don’t know what I would have done. For some reason I expected that fellow to drop his weapon when I caught him by surprise.”
The rescue crew soon had the pirate in custody and was beginning to check on the passengers. Arrangements were being made to ferry them to the Bulkeley for medical exams and interviews.
When he was told about the people still missing on the lower decks, the commander sent more of his men to the cruise ship with instructions to capture the rest of the hijackers and rescue any remaining prisoners.
The Navy didn’t have much confidence in Aidsand’s theory that a band of mostly unarmed cruise ship passengers could stand up to murderous pirates.
Bodies presumed to be part of the pirate crew were discovered on the bridge as the search began.
On the first few decks, the Navy search party encountered only empty passenger cabins and staterooms before moving down to the lower levels.
As her exhausted bride slept in their room, Samantha sat vigilantly on the foot of Celine’s bed holding a can of extra-hold hairspray in one pudgy hand and her Bic lighter in the other.