by Newman, AJ
Aaron lowered his head and rubbed his hand on his bald scalp. “Does he have a clue about how to get out of this mess?”
Mike wiggled in his seat like a puppy about to piss on your carpet. “He thinks we can become his right-hand men and women. He sees each of us managing an island.”
Davi blew wine across the table. “Shut up! Are you shitting me?”
I chuckled and then nodded. “He all but gave us our choice of islands. He needs us to help groom Harry and others for those jobs down the road. He sees Harry as his only truly loyal man.”
Aaron filled Mike and me in on the discussions in the planning session. “We learned our ships have been ready for several weeks. They have been made into gunships. We also learned that Monet is an educated fool. I believe the General put Monet’s plan in front of us to see if we are yes men.”
What’s that phrase they say in mysteries? I believe it’s, and the plot thickens.
*
Chapter 10 – Sailing! Again!
The Caribbean Ocean – off the west side of St. Lucia.
Our sailboat led the small flotilla south to Grenada. We were traveling at five knots with a favorable wind. We wanted to pass St. Lucia about two to three miles from the coast. We planned to bypass all of the islands at about that distance. The Beneteau yacht was slower than usual due to the addition of dozens of machine guns, mortars, and a five-inch recoilless rifle.
Davi suggested we sail close to the islands to draw out any pirates of rogue military units. The sailboat looked harmless but bristled with heavy and light machine guns. Harry and most of his men were on one of Bassot’s two frigates assigned to my task force. We kept one frigate traveling a mile further out to sea from the island so our sailboat would hide it from prying eyes. The other followed a couple of miles behind. Anyone daring to come out to sea to attack us would get a hell of a surprise.
I heard Joan yell out, “I see St. Lucia!”
Everyone scrambled to their combat stations. Mort’s men manned the .50 caliber heavy machine guns while my folks manned the old M60 7.62 caliber machine guns and the four SAWS. Davi and I manned the recoilless rifle, and Paul and Callie manned one of the mortars. Ten of Harry’s men filled in where needed.
Two older motor yachts came into view. There were armed men on the deck, but we didn’t see any heavy weapons, just AKs and ARs. Davi wanted to blow them out of the water, but I said they could just be concerned about us being the bad guys. I let them approach and addressed them. “We are friendly. What do you want?”
A man yelled through a megaphone. “Your boats and women.”
The tarp flew off the recoilless rifle, and a few seconds later, the gun barked, and the boat exploded. Pieces rained down while Mort’s men pounded the second boat with .50 caliber incendiary bullets. The boat caught on fire, and the gas tank exploded.
Men jumped off the last boat and floated helplessly. Davi sneered, took aim, and raked the floundering men. The SAW ripped the men to shreds. Sharks began feeding on them, and the water churned as they fed. When the machine guns stopped firing. I called out, “Well, do you feel better?”
Davi high-fived me. “That will teach the filthy perverts to mistreat women.”
Harry’s voice boomed over the radio. “There’s a larger vessel heading your way. Steer away from shore, and we’ll greet him.”
We heard the cannon fire and could see smoke with our binoculars but couldn’t see the pirate vessel sink. We heard several loud explosions, and then Harry spoke over the radio. “We wanted to capture the vessel, but it put up a short flight. Only a few small arms fire hit the side of our frigate. The pirate ship rests with Davey Jones. I always wanted to say that as a kid!”
The rest of the short voyage to Grenada was peaceful.
***
Grenada
The crescent moon was hidden by the clouds at midnight on our first day off the southeast coast of Grenada. The air was calm, and the RIB boats cut through the water to the desolate beach. My stomach fluttered as it always did before I went on a mission. Paul and Ben looked at me and gave thumbs-up signs. I must have looked pretty bad. I took a deep breath and gazed at Ally, Joan, Callie, Ben, Paul, Mike, and Sally. The rest of the team sat behind them. “You know your jobs. Harry’s Marines will load the weapons and explosives in the trucks that had better be waiting on the beach. Davi will take her team to Brizan, and I’ll take mine plus ten Marines to St. George. We duck and cover while the frigates pound the asshats. Then we mop up the survivors. Any questions?”
There weren’t any.
Harry had stationed one frigate off the coast at St. George and the other at Brizan, which were the two cartel strongholds. They would begin shelling the designated targets just before the sun rose at five. This gave us enough time to drive to the two cities, which were less than ten miles as the crow flies from our landing zone. Luck was with us. Both cartel bases were both situated in industrial warehouses.
Davi had flashed the expected two short, three long, and two short light flashes. We were rewarded with a long, short, and two long flashes. Davi slapped me on the back. “The resistance will meet us on the beach just east of Chochu. We’re five minutes from landing. Check your weapons in case the landing zone is hot.”
The resistance team met us on the beach. They hugged us and thanked us for coming to their aid. Their leader hugged me and then said, “We’ve been very busy with the explosives you delivered yesterday during your scouting mission. Our teams will begin eliminating as many of the cartel’s outposts an hour before the shelling begins. Zack, your idea to find their homes and take them out before they can react is brilliant! We have resistance members waiting to kill the bastards.”
I was cautiously optimistic, but the tide appeared to be turning in our favor. We quickly loaded the trucks with the second batch of weapons and explosions this week. This would resupply the resistance fighters after the fight had been won.
The road was narrow and deserted. Gas was in short supply, so most of the running cars were sparingly used. We arrived a half-mile from the cartel’s headquarters an hour and a half later. Our night vision goggles (NVG) gave us a significant advantage over the drug gang. I sent my two-man teams to their assigned locations and told them to wait until four am before taking out any of the gang.
Time passed slowly. I counted down and saw the minute hand hit four o’clock. I placed the crosshairs of my suppressed .308 sniper rifle on my target. Taking a deep breath and then holding it, I squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked, and the man fell. The next target fell a few seconds later. I could only hear a few pops in the distance as my teams took out the guards.
Twenty minutes later, the shelling began. The shells exploded upon impact and lit up the night. Harry and his crew were very proficient, and every shell hit the industrial complex. A shell must have hit an ammo dump because a tremendous explosion rocked the earth, knocking Ally and me to the ground. Large chunks of steel and masonry flew through the air and rained down on us. As soon as I knew what had happened, I shoved Ally down the embankment. We slid on the dew-covered grass to the bottom, where I helped her into the culvert nearby and joined her. I saw several pairs of eyes in the dark, and all but a small pair of eyes scurried out the other end. I knew the eyes belonged to a rat, so I calmly walked us, and soccer kicked the little bastard out the other end of the pipe. The culvert was only four feet high on the inside, but it had eight feet of soil and a concrete road above it.
Ally gasped. “Was that a rat?”
I held her close. “A dead rat, now.”
Before I could brag about kicking a field goal, we were knocked to the floor. The secondary explosions weren’t over. I rolled on top of Ally, and several chunks of the shattered culvert fell on top of me. Something huge had hit the road above us, rattling us against the concrete walls. More concrete chips and dirt fell on us. A large chunk grazed my right arm, but I took the brunt of the falling debris. Only a few smaller pieces hit my wife. Ally grunted when th
e silt stopped falling. “Either make love to me or get off.”
I swam through the debris around us and helped her to her knees. “Come on. We need to scramble to our targets. The shelling has stopped.”
Ally sighed and took a deep breath. “My mind is willing, but my body says, “screw this.””
I helped her shove the dirt and concrete pieces out of our way. We crawled out of the culvert and moved up the embankment. We shuddered when our eyes saw the scene in front of us. All of the dozen or so buildings were gone. Smoke rolled from several fires, and huge chunks of the building lay scattered around us for as far as I could see. Raw, twisted girders stood by themselves above the devastation. The smell of cordite and burning rubber filled the air.
There were no living bodies, just chunks, and pieces of bodies. Ally saw a shattered head with an eyeball hanging out. She stumbled backward and emptied her stomach. I held her hair back and gave her a drink. She took my arm and wiped her mouth on my shirt.
I heard a noise behind me. “I’m Jose. I’m the leader of the resistance. You’re Zack?”
I nodded.
He stuck out his hand. “The fight is over. You saw how this one ended. The other group in Brizan fared better, but the survivors were picked off as they tried to regroup after the shelling. Go, find your people and meet us for a celebration breakfast at the city’s courthouse.”
We found Mike and Sally first. Sally had a nasty cut on her head but was okay. Mike saw us and pulled Sally behind him. “That was one hell of an explosion. We could have used that ammunition.”
Ally snorted. “Shut up, Mike. We need to find our team.”
Ally tended to the cut on Sally’s head while Mike and I looked for the rest of our team. We walked past a collapsed overpass when I heard a voice coming from the rubble. My heart pounded as I ran to the source of the sound. Mike and I frantically dug through the ruins and found my daughter. The overpass had broken in the middle creating a void beneath both ends. Callie and Paul were unharmed because they were further away from the explosion. The massive concrete structure had saved their lives.
I held Callie and wiped away her tears, but she kept crying. Paul held her hand. “Zack, she saw a huge object fall on the truck that Ben and his wife jumped under. They must be dead.”
I gave Callie to Paul and went to find Ben. We found Ben and his wife’s remains under a large truck. They’d scrambled under the truck for shelter from the falling debris, and, well, it wasn’t pretty. We buried their remains the best we could and went on to search for the rest of our team. I still cringe years later at the gruesome scene. That’s all I have to say about that.
Mike and I walked west around the crater's perimeter and heard laughing coming from the other side of several trucks. We snuck up on the people and were relieved to see Davi and the rest of our team drinking wine and celebrating. I walked up to Davi, and she threw her arms around me and gave me a kiss on the lips. I held her at arm's length. “Davi, the resistance leader told us the fight for the island is over.”
Davi shoved a bottle of wine into Mike’s hands. “Yes, we won! The resistance took out over a hundred of the cartel’s men before we started sniping. Harry’s shelling took out the entire leadership. There are a few rats left alive, but the resistance is hunting them down. They will be killed on sight.”
I exhaled and looked around at my friends. “Ben and his wife were killed by falling debris. Mike and I buried them. Let’s say a prayer for them.”
I gave an impromptu eulogy for the couple and then said the Lord’s Prayer. “We were lucky to only lose two of us in this fight. We have to get better at this.”
Jose, the resistance leader, walked into the group with Ally, Paul, and Callie. “The fighting is done. It’s time to celebrate.”
I yelled, “Stop! Yes, we won this battle, but the war isn’t over. Others will come and try to take this island from you. We need to get all of the islands to join into a mutual defense pact.”
*
Chapter 11 – Wow!
Sailing
Davi stayed on Harry’s frigate during the trip home. They were married by the frigate’s captain in a small ceremony with Harry’s officers and us. Harry left a frigate offshore with the intent of making the island its home base. He didn’t care what Bassot would do. He knew we had to strengthen and protect our expanding nation. I was shocked he wasn’t worried about Bassot’s reaction to making that decision without input from his boss and mentor.
After the wedding, I caught Harry. “I didn’t see Captain Monet, your executive officer, at the wedding.”
Harry smiled and pointed to Davi. She grinned. “That damned ninja fellow tossed their bodies to the sharks. Only men and women loyal to Harry are left on all our boats and ships.”
We left Mort and several of his people on Grenada to help improve the island’s organization. Most of their leaders and all of their politicians had been murdered by the cartel. They knew they needed help, and we knew we needed their food and raw materials. The cartel had treated the farmers and ranchers very well, so they actually increased production during the apocalypse. Forrest and Joan loved the island, so I appointed Forrest to be our contact and liaison for Grenada. Jose agreed with the concept of a mutual defense pact and began selling the idea to his people. We were off to a great start on nation-building.
We stayed for four days before hauling in our anchors and going back to Martenvous. Jose wanted all of us to stay and help lead their rebuilding efforts. I told him we would help and be there for his home island, but we had a mess to clean up of our own.
I wanted to know Bassot’s reaction to the taking of Grenada and the elimination of the cartel. Still, we didn’t break radio silence since we didn’t want to attract any attention from the pirates known to be sailing these waters. I ordered everyone to rest because I feared we might have a fight on our hands when we met with Bassot. I gathered my inner circle and started plotting Bassot’s demise. When I learned that Davi was traveling on Harry’s ship, I had prepared her to lobby Harry about planning to get rid of Bassot ASAP. She liked the idea but wasn’t sure that Harry was on board with killing Bassot. Harry preferred jail for his mentor.
Aaron looked at me. “I like your idea for developing two plans. We kill or jail Bassot, and with Harry’s help, we take over the island and install a Constitutional Republic form of government.”
Mike snickered, “I say we slit his throat while he’s getting laid by the maid. Hey, it rhymes. I made a poem.”
I shook my head. “Mike, this is a serious topic. Maybe we pay the maid to kill the bastard.”
Ally said, “Remember, the maid is one of our spies in the Anarchist’s camp. She’d love to kill Bassot, but that would compromise her ability to keep spying for us.”
Paul raised his hand. “We know Bassot has to go, but who else has to go? Harry will take care of any military supporters loyal to Bassot, but there are several of the elites on the island who help prop up Bassot’s reign of terror.”
I knew exactly who would understand what was needed. “We’re close enough to use a short-range walkie-talkie. I’m calling my contact to set that part in motion.”
I keyed the mic. “French wine sucks.”
A minute later, we heard, “American men are wussies.”
I laughed at her reply, but Callie gulped. “I know that ….”
I stopped her. “Keep it to yourself for now?”
“Hello, my friend. We need to discuss who are Zebra’s major supporters.”
She laughed and replied, “I’m way ahead of you. Let’s meet at the usual place.”
I answered, “Will do.”
Ally pinched me and then whispered in my ear. “Who’s the woman?”
I whispered back to her. “I’ll fill you in later.”
Mike chuckled. “Jealousy is a bad thing. That sounded like a young French gir …. . Oh! Shit!”
***
Martenvous
We entered the harbor with
Harry’s frigate leading the way. The early evening breeze was cool as the sun set behind us as we gazed at the island. Suddenly, fireworks exploded above the harbor! I grabbed my binoculars and saw hundreds of people celebrating on the docks. Fireworks shot into the air, people were dancing, and a band played in a pavilion just off the docks.
I changed the channel on my walkie-talkie. “French wine sucks!”
I received an immediate answer. “The king is dead! Long die the king!”
My thinking ground to a halt, sputtered, and caught fire. “Isn’t Bassot your father?”
Aimee Bassot laughed. “My father is Gagnon. I’ll explain later. Come on in and celebrate our freedom.”
I yelled, “Anchor here until I get a straight answer.”
Harry’s voice broke into what I thought was a secure and secret channel. “Bassot died around lunchtime. One of his lovers didn’t love him as much as he thought they did. Go ahead and dock so Aimee and I can fill you in on our little secret.”
My friends heard the exchange. Questions flooded into me. “I can only say that Aimee has been helping us get rid of her father. Well, Bassot apparently isn’t her father, but anyway, Bassot is dead, and you know as much as I do now.”
Harry and Aimee were treated like royalty. The islanders knew we helped but focused their praise on the two homegrown founding fathers and mothers of their revolution. We couldn’t pry them away from their adoring fans. I was a bit jealous. My team had planned and executed the revolt against Bassot. Aimee and Harry had just shot cannons at thugs and killed Bassot. Oh! Well! Our reward would be a peaceful life.
The party never ended that night. Ally and I went to sleep at dawn. Mike, Sally, Paul, and Cassie left the party with us and retired for the night. The sound of beating on our door woke us up. Ally lifted her head off my chest. “If that’s your dumb assed buddy, go tell him to go home.”