Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 02 - Peeking Duck

by Daniel Ganninger

  Galveston pointed down the side of the station. “Check those windows for anyone inside,” he ordered.

  I nodded and moved carefully down the side until I reached a window. They were thick and small, probably to keep out as much of the gale winds and cold as possible. It was difficult to see through them clearly.

  I crouched and peered over the sill of the window. I saw a small room with computer equipment inside, but the room was dark and none of the computers were on.

  I shook my head at Galveston and moved to the next window as he followed. Again I found a darkened room with no one inside. Galveston reached a hand on my shoulder, which startled me, and I swung around. He pointed down from the building at a small structure with an open door. It was the generator room, and it had a large diesel tank next to it. I noticed that wires were on the ground around it, and the generator was not running from inside the shed. No wonder it had been so quiet. The generator had been turned off, and the wires had been cut that supplied electricity to the research station.

  We continued to the back of the building and saw more darkened rooms and not a soul about. The building was abandoned—or so we hoped.

  “Let’s go in,” Galveston ordered flatly, and I followed him to the front door.

  The front door was visible from the bay, so we would have to take the chance on being seen from the Trusian. But the chances were remote since it seemed the pirates didn’t have anyone looking in the direction of the building. We moved quickly from our hiding spot to the entrance. It was a simple, metal door and already cracked open.

  Galveston went in first with his gun drawn, just in case we met some unfriendly folks. I ran in after him.

  The meteorological station was completely dark inside and larger than it appeared from the outside. We prowled through room after room of equipment, through the living quarters, and a recreation hall. There were no signs of life.

  “Give a look at the ship so we can see what’s going on,” Galveston told me.

  I peered out the nearest window that would give us the best view of the Trusian, which bobbed up and down in the choppy bay of the island. It was hard to discern what was going on around the deck due to the large containers, but then I spotted some movement. I noticed two men dressed in black at the stern of the ship, obviously carrying guns over their shoulders. They walked slowly back and forth, and one was puffing on a cigarette. No one else was on the deck that I could see.

  The pirates wore black pants and parkas, with black hats on their heads. They definitely weren‘t the type I had seen on the news hijacking ships off the coast of Somalia. These looked like professionals, and that scared me even more.

  I had received extensive gun training the previous year, but nothing that would prepare me for the possibility of taking another man’s life. Now I had to rely on that training to get me through this, just in case it came to that. The use of a gun was nothing new for Galveston, but his foray into the annals of love had probably left him somewhat rusty.

  “What now?” I asked, curious to see what plan was formulating in Galveston’s mind.

  “Not sure,” he answered straightly. “We need to get to that ship, but we’ll be spotted with those guards there.” Galveston took a second. “We need to get them back up to this building.”

  “You could fire your gun. That would get their attention.”

  “Yeah, but unwanted attention. I don’t want them to think anyone is here. I just want them to think there is a problem they need to check out.”

  We thought over the problem. The pirates needed to come back to the building, but we also needed a boat to get to the Trusian. I then thought of a plan.

  “The generator. We can fire up the generator and turn all the lights on. That should get them here to see what had happened. I’m sure they cut it before they captured the weather team. Maybe they would think they forgot someone.”

  “I knew there was a reason I brought you along,” Galveston joked. “Good idea. We need to be ready for them, and we need to have a way onto the ship.”

  “I have an idea about that, too. Tell me what you think.”

  -Chapter 40-

  Galveston listened intently to my plan, and from the smile on his face, I could tell he liked it.

  “Simple, and I bet it might just work,” he said gleefully.

  “It can’t ‘might just work’,” I said, “it has to work.”

  “Let’s get to it then. You rig the inside door, and I’ll get the generator running.”

  Galveston moved from our position inside the weather center and disappeared out a back window to the generator shed. I was left alone inside to gather the materials for my project.

  We worked for over an hour until Galveston returned to the room, panting.

  “How’d you do?” I asked.

  “Excellent, of course,” he said with pride. “The generator cables were really toasted, but the pirates didn’t try to sabotage the generator completely. It looks like they were trying to make sure it couldn’t be fixed easily, but they didn’t have the time to destroy the entire thing. It ought to run, but at a lesser capacity. It will be enough for what we want. How ‘bout you?”

  “Good. I think it will work.”

  “I’ll call Jane and Maddie and update them on our progress. Hopefully they have a way for us off the Southern Sea. Why don’t you radio the ship and tell them our plan.”

  I liked that Galveston always talked about our success in future tense. It made me feel we had a chance to pull this off. If he had any doubt, he wouldn’t show it.

  Galveston dialed the satellite phone, and Maddie immediately picked up. Galveston talked quickly, gave them our coordinates, what ship got us here, and inquired how we were going to get off. He didn’t leave time for small talk, and he wouldn’t let me talk to Jane. It was a purposeful move on his part to keep me focused on the task at hand.

  I radioed the Southern Sea and informed them of the plan. They would stay safely out of sight on the leeward side of the island, well away from the action. I told them if something was to go amiss to radio the British military, but I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. I began to question why we were taking this on by ourselves and not waiting on the military. The whole plan was beginning to reveal itself as pure stupidity, but for some reason, maybe it was the adrenaline talking, I knew we could pull it off. Our plan seemed almost fool proof.

  “Maddie and Jane have scheduled a helicopter to pick us up off the Southern Sea when it’s in range. Once we get control of the Trusian and rid it of the pirates, the crew can take over. We can’t be on the ship for long, for political reasons of course,” Galveston informed me.

  I hadn‘t thought of that. We had no business being on these islands or on the Trusian. The island was a territory of Great Britain, and we really had no permission to be there. We would want to be as far away as possible before the authorities from Tristan de Cunha showed up.

  “Alright. Let’s get this party started,” Galveston announced.

  He left, and after about ten minutes, I saw the lights whirl to life. The sound of the generator was deafening and reverberated against the near cliff walls. That would definitely get the pirates attention.

  I checked my contraption before moving to the back of the room but as close as possible to the entrance of the building. I pulled the binoculars up to my eyes and peered at the Trusian. The generator’s sounds must have echoed to the ship, because I could see a flurry of activity as the pirates gazed at the building we were in. Galveston ran up beside me as I concentrated on the movements of the mercenaries.

  “Power is up. The tank was real banged up but should be enough for about ten minutes of power. What do you have for me?”

  I reached beside me and gave Galveston a fire extinguisher from the wall. “As soon as you see them enter past that point,” I said, pointing at a makeshift line on the floor, “spray that right at them.”

  “You think these are going to work?” Galveston asked
.

  “Hope so. I tested one, and it did pretty well. It should be enough to get a few of them. You might have to use that thing,” I told him, giving a gesture toward his gun.

  I looked back through the binoculars and saw a small boat being lowered from the deck of the ship. Four pirates were riding inside, heavily armed with submachine guns. My heart quickened at the sight. We weren’t doing this for fun, this was real business. If we weren’t successful we could end up dead—a sobering thought.

  The pirates raced to the rocky beach, and as the small boat hit the edge of the rocks, the pirates filed out and drew their guns. One man stood by the boat as the other men ran from the cove. I lost sight of them as they disappeared from view at the bottom of the hill.

  “They’re coming,” I whispered loudly to Galveston. “Turn the lights out.”

  Galveston flicked the switch and the room went dark. I covered the window with a few random papers to block out any remaining light. We waited patiently for the pirates’ arrival.

  I noticed shadows outside the window and saw they were proceeding to the main entrance. Galveston readied the fire extinguisher and placed his gun on the table in front of him.

  The shadows stopped, and I heard non-descript whispers before the door began to crack open. We had to remember that we were dealing with professionals, only they probably hadn’t encountered anyone like us before.

  The door opened more, and I could see the muzzle of a gun poke through. I crouched low behind a desk out of sight with a knife in my hand. I had already scored a piece of rope, and one cut was all that was needed to start my plan into action. The door swung open fully, and I could see half of a black clad pirate’s body peering into the room. He entered cautiously in a crouched position and moved slowly as he approached the line I had put onto the floor. A second man appeared behind him and followed in the same manner. The first pirate scanned the room, but the light was too faint for his eyes to adjust. He squinted to see through the dark and unwittingly stepped closer to the line.

  With a quick burst I cut through the rope next to me. The buzz of moving rope filled the room, and the pirate stopped in his tracks. The pirate hadn’t noticed he had walked into a trap. He had stepped into a ring of rope that zipped together, wrenching his feet from out under him. The pirate flew forward as a crash occurred behind me from ballast that fell from the ceiling. He smacked his head against the desk in front of us. The pirate was half upside down and semi-conscious from the impact. The pirate had just been trapped in a simple snare.

  The second pirate was caught off guard from his colleague flying away from him. He was unable to see what was going on and moved forward. The second pirate passed the line I had put on the floor, and from behind the desk, Galveston unloaded a torrent of chemicals from the extinguisher on top of him. He was disoriented enough for me to cut the next line, where the same thing happened. The pirate flew forward with his legs bound and smacked the desk in the same way as the first. The room was now filled with the grunting moans of the now incapacitated men as Galveston continued to unload with the extinguisher, filling the room in white.

  I leapt from behind the desk and came face to face with our adversaries. The men were struggling to raise their guns. I immediately flew down on top of the first man and pummeled him on the head and face until I was able to wrench the gun from his hands. I looked over and Galveston had already done the same to the second man, who now lay unconscious. The men were half off the ground with the ropes attached securely around their ankles.

  I had made five different snares, a handy trick I had learned from my days taking survival training a year or so before. They had proved vastly successful.

  Galveston ran toward the door and positioned himself at the side. We had two down, but the third was still missing.

  “He probably went to the generator shed,” Galveston announced, breathing hard. “Tie those two up and gag them; I’m going to get that third guy.” He disappeared to the back of the building.

  I ran back to the men who were beginning to wake up, but still weary from the excitement. I tied their hands and used duct tape to cover their mouths. I grabbed the assault rifle and ran to the door, awaiting the third man if he returned before Galveston could get to him.

  A faint rumble and yelling emanated from the back room of the building, and I saw Galveston dragging a man through the hall and into the room.

  “I ran up right on top of him outside the generator shed,” Galveston gasped. “Luckily he didn’t have time to get his gun up.” He threw the pirate toward the others and sat on him as I bound his feet and hands. “Two down, one to go.”

  “How do we get that guy up here?”

  “They have to have a radio,” Galveston said as he searched through the subdued pirates’ pockets. They glared in disgust as he found a small walkie-talkie in the pocket of one of the men.

  Galveston glared back at the pirate and cocked his handgun.

  “Understand English?” he asked, and the pirate nodded his head. “You are going to get that man from the beach up here—in English,” Galveston ordered. “If you don’t do as I say I will shoot you in the head, and I will do the same to your partners. Do you understand?” The pirate nodded again as his eyes grew wide from the threat.

  I recoiled from the statement, but I knew Galveston was bluffing. He would never try to assassinate these men. He would hurt them badly if they tried anything funny, however.

  Galveston pulled out the gag from the pirate’s mouth, keyed the radio for him, and motioned for him to talk. The pirate stammered at first and had a thick French accent.

  “Marsin, come up here, ve need jou,” he said in a monotone voice.

  “Que?” the voice responded.

  “Marsin, up here now!” the voice ordered again as the man began to grow worried about the gun at his temple.

  “Oui,” the voice responded.

  We wrestled the men behind a desk, out of sight, and took up position at either side of the door. Within minutes we heard footsteps outside as the last pirate clumsily entered. There was probably a reason he was left at the boat. Marsin was only in the door by a step when Galveston hit him over the head with the butt of his gun. He crumpled quickly to the floor. We tied him up and placed him next to the other men, who now sat quietly with a look of horror on their faces.

  “Now for the unenviable task of getting their clothes,” I announced.

  “This guy looks about your size,” Galveston fired back, pointing at a shorter man.

  I rolled my eyes as we set about to disrobe the men‘s outer garments. Galveston kept his gun trained at the men as I began the delicate task of unbinding the pirate’s hands and feet so I could get their clothes off.

  “Pants, parkas, hats, and shoes, that’s about all we’ll need,” Galveston said to me as I pulled off the clothes one item at a time, until we each had a full set.

  I put on one of the pirate‘s outerwear, which was a little too big, but it would have to do.

  Galveston returned to our talking pirate.

  “Call your ship and tell them you found one man, and you are returning for medical supplies since you partner has been injured. And remember nothing funny, or I shoot you instantly,” Galveston gave the man the necessary threats before he made the call.

  The pirate made the statement perfectly, as Galveston gazed at him with the gun pointing at his head. We took the radios and gathered the men’s guns. I made sure the pirates were secured, and placed some objects I had found laying around the adjacent rooms in my backpack. As we left, I noticed a flare gun box attached to the wall and indicated to Galveston that I had a new idea for the next part of our plan. I jammed the front door as we left, just in case the pirates decided they would try to crawl out.

  As we left the building, I followed Galveston down the hill to the beach and the lonely boat that would take us to the Trusian. We had to get onto that ship, and at this point, we had a pretty sketchy plan to do it.

  -Chapte
r 41-

  Galveston and I gathered our senses and calmed our nerves as we strolled to the boat that sat wedged against the rocks on the beach. I looked out over the water toward the Trusian and noticed a few pirates gathering at the stern of the ship.

  “Pull that hat down low and the collar of your parka up,” Galveston instructed as we got in the boat. I did as he said and strategically placed the clothing in front of my face.

  I sat near the bow of the boat with my back to the ship as Galveston pushed us away from shore and started the motor. The engine whirled to life, and we cleared the rocky beach. I hoped the pirates hadn’t noticed Galveston carrying a large container filled with gasoline into the boat and placing it next to the engine. The fuel was supposed to be for the portable backup generators, but we had another purpose for it. The diesel fuel didn’t have quite the right amount of burn that we were looking for, but the pirates wouldn’t notice the difference.

  Galveston turned the boat toward the Trusian and moved the throttle open, pushing us through the now still water of the bay. As we neared the huge vessel, Galveston opened the lid to the fuel canister, and I readied the flares I had acquired in the building. Galveston put his head down and drove the boat past the stern to the starboard side of the ship, causing the pirates to look at each other in confusion. As we neared the steel hull out of eyesight from the men on the stern, Galveston reached down and propped the canister on the side of the boat, spilling its contents into the water. I felt bad for a second that we were damaging the ecosystem, but soon we would clean it up.

  Galveston turned the boat sharply, running it toward the stern, and then back to the other side. The pirates began to wave wildly from the deck of the ship, since we had missed our point to board. As we rounded to the port side, Galveston gave me a nod. I stood up, cocked the first flare into place in the gun, and pulled the trigger as I pointed it toward the gas stream we had left behind.