Buzzard Bay (39 page)

“Tell the men to abandon ship,” Ansly told the captain.

The captain reached over and pulled a button on the wall. The horns immediately began to blow, calling everyone to the lifeboats. They heard a machine gun off to their right begin to fire, followed by a hollow thud which knocked them off their feet.

Ansly heard the captain shout, “I’ve felt that before, we’ve been torpedoed.” He quickly got to his feet, grabbing a set of binoculars from one of the men. He searched through the smoke until he spotted the two patrol boats circling like buzzards. He also saw the ship not more than half a mile away, now sitting there with lights aglow.

A howl of anguish escaped his lips, “The bastards want to kill us.” In a fit of frustration, he ran from the bridge to the nearest machine gun and began firing at the ship, but the tracer bullets only disappeared into the night air. He knew the same thing was going to happen to him.

It became pretty apparent to El Presidente as he came on deck that this wasn’t much of a ship. An old freighter really, but he was pleased to see a place had been made ready for him on the forward deck. There were some chairs and tables complete with umbrellas. A table ran along one side filled with food. In the middle sat a cabana complete with bartender. Soft music filled the air. In front of one table, a huge telescope was mounted so he would see the action up close.

El Presidente did not mind the ship; they were going to scuttle it in a couple of hours anyway. But he was very pleased to see a place of honor had been set aside for him, “I see you planned a party,” he joked with his lieutenant.

“Wait till you see the floor show, El Presidente, it will be even better than the American movies.”

El Presidente took his place, but he too was becoming very nervous when finally he saw Bertrand’s lights go out. Like Henekie, once the action started, he was all right.

He watched proudly as the other powerboat was lifted from the hold. He was always fascinated by his new toys, especially if they were destructive. It gave him great satisfaction to have these instruments at his fingertips, to be able to pull the trigger himself. Hell, it was like screwing a beautiful woman.

He felt the excitement being radiated by his men as they boarded the powerboat and headed toward Bertrand’s ship to perform the ‘coup de grace’. He was on the phone steady trying to get the captain to get their ship closer to Bertrand. They were within a quarter of a mile when his men pulled the tarp off of what looked to El Presidente to be a long tube on a tripod.

“It is our honor that you should be the one to finish off the Americans’ ship,” one of the men said, showing El Presidente how to look down the sight and where the trigger was located. He was like a kid with a new toy; he found Ansly’s ship in the sight and pulled the trigger a little quicker than the men around him were ready for. They all watched the missile wing its way past the target and shortly after, El Presidente saw the explosion of water along Bertrand’s hull. It didn’t matter that everyone knew the missile that hit was from Henekie’s boat, just as long as El Presidente didn’t.

A roar went up from his crew. Already they were celebrating. Usually, El Presidente didn’t allow this, but word had gotten around that this was a special occasion. He had supplied all the food and booze they wanted. “Enjoy,” he thought, watching them cheering on Bertrand’s ship as the flames began to appear above deck, “it will be your last.”

He paid little attention to what was going on around him; the spectacle of the giant ship brought to its knees was awe inspiring. To know that he possessed the power to destroy something as assuming as this ship appeared to be was almost spiritual. He sat glued to his seat, watching through the infrared telescope. He could see the men’s faces on board as they desperately lowered the lifeboats, knowing like a god that it was an act of futility. There was no escaping him; they would die because he wished it to be so. Let it be a lesson for those who followed, no one could stand in his way; life meant nothing to him except his own.

Tonight he felt that the world was his; he owned it and everything in it. It was humbling in some ways too. He realized how fortunate he was to find a man like Henekie who could bring such a giant down without firing a shot. Such a man must be kept on a leash. All these things were going through El Presidente’s mind as he watched his powerboat blow the small lifeboats out of the water as soon as they cleared Bertrand’s ship and reached open water.

It was almost twelve-thirty when Bob and July pushed Horatio Norton’s small outboard through the surf and scrambled aboard. Horatio gave them a rough time as he started the engine. “It’s about time you white guys learned your place,” he shouted at them and aimed the boat toward their ship.

Bob was about to answer him when he saw the lights go out and the considerably dimmer lights of the auxiliary come on.

“What’s going on?” Horatio asked.

“Probably just a check to make sure everything is working,” Bob answered.

They hadn’t gone much farther when all the lights went out again, only this time there was only a dim glow rising from the ship. They were about halfway there when Horatio cut the motor.

“What’s the matter?” Bob asked.

“If it’s just a check, the lights should be back on by now,” Horatio told him.

“They know we’re coming,” July spoke up. “Maybe they want it dark so no one will see us.”

“Look out there,” Horatio pointed, “that ship was headed east, now it’s turned straight toward us.”

They all stood up to have a better look. July saw it first. “Look, a small black object was skimming across the water.”

“What the fuck’s going on?” Bob was as puzzled as July.

The boat suddenly took off knocking both of them off their feet. All they heard was, “El Presidente,” before the small outboard roared to life.

Horatio turned the boat and headed east away from the ship and then again cut the engine. They stood and strained to see, but the black object had disappeared on the other side of Ansly’s ship. All of a sudden they heard a deep roar, and then black smoke began to appear over the ship.

“My god, they’re attacking the ship,” was all that July could get out as they all stood trying to comprehend what was happening.

The other ship Horatio had first spotted was much closer now.

“Why don’t they do something?” Bob sounded exasperated. “Ansly’s got some big guns, why isn’t he firing?”

Horatio answered matter-of-factly, “They can’t Bob, and without power they can’t do much of anything.”

Another small black object appeared, headed straight for the ship. They saw some tracer bullets come off Ansly’s ship, and then the object turned away.

“They’ve still got some firepower left.” Bob felt some sense of satisfaction, but seconds later they heard a sickening hollow thud.

“Torpedo,” Horatio confirmed what they already suspected.

“I can’t believe it,” Bob was astonished. “I know that ship. It was a floating fortress, now she’s being torn apart without hardly putting up a fight. Why?” He shook his fist in frustration.

“Must have been an inside job,” Horatio reasoned. “Whatever happened, happened in a hurry by the looks of the smoke coming out of her. She’s in real trouble.”

July grabbed Bob’s arm. “What can we do?”

They felt totally helpless watching as the scene unfolded. The other ship had pulled in close now, almost straight out from where they were sitting.

“You really think it’s El Presidente?” Bob asked Horatio.

“He’s the only one with enough power to pull this off, I’m sure that he’s on that ship right now laughing at us.”

“If I had something to fight him with, I’d go after him right now.”

“We do have something,” Horatio answered, opening a metal chest beside him. He pulled out two machine guns, handing one to Bob. “I found this box floating near here one day. There’s more ammo in here, and the rest are flare guns. Now what I’m thinking is that everyone on that ship is watching Ansly’s ship. They’ll never think anyone is going to sneak up behind them.”

A voice Bob had heard only a few times before came from deep down July’s throat, “Let’s go get that bastard. I’ll cut his balls off myself.”

Bob and Horatio both looked toward July; her face was white with fury. She had good friends on board that ship too.

“Let’s try it.” Bob was not optimistic; he’d seen enough killing, but July was determined. He knew she’d go alone if they didn’t try to do something. As they got closer to the boat, they could hear machine gun fire coming from toward Ansly’s ship. The flames were above deck now, casting a dancing light across the water.

“Look,” Bob saw the tracer bullets from one of the powerboats shower into a lifeboat. “The fuckers are killing anyone leaving the ship.”

“Maybe we should go after the patrol boats instead.”

“How would we catch them?” Horatio countered, “Let’s get the one responsible for all this.”

July agreed with Horatio. Bob was too pissed off to care now, he just wanted to get hold of somebody and beat the shit out of them. El Presidente would do just fine.

They had made a wide arc and were coming in on El Presidente’s ship from the backside. They were surprised at how dark it actually was; the ship itself was not well lit.

“There,” Bob whispered, “there’s a loading dock on the side of the ship.”

“That solves that problem,” Horatio answered. “I wasn’t sure when we got here how we were going to get on board.”

They quietly paddled up to the loading dock watching the ship’s deck for any movements. Bob hopped out of the boat and pulled it up beside the dock. They could hear the soft sound of music drifting down from above along with some shouting.

“The pricks are having a party,” Bob snarled.

Horatio climbed out onto the loading dock to join him. “Better for us,” he grinned. “Let’s go join him.” He then turned to July as she went to leave their boat.

“July, someone has to stay in the boat. It’s our only chance of getting out of here. Take the boat out a ways and wait for us. We may have to bail out over the railing, that way you can pick us up. If they follow us to the railing and start shooting, use one of these.” He showed her one of the flare guns from the box. “Just shoot it at the ship. The light will blind them till we get to you.” He showed her how to use the flares. “Don’t be scared to keep firing them, but shield your eyes.”

July was reluctant to leave but realized Horatio was right. Bob grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. She looked back at him with cold blue eyes, “You’ve got to kill him, Bob.” He nodded his head; their lives would never be at peace until El Presidente was dead.

Bob and Horatio pushed July away from the loading dock, and then cautiously proceeded to climb the steps up to the ship’s main deck. There was a stack of crates near the top of the stairs; they ducked down behind them, surveying the deck. Other than some junk strewn around here and there, the deck was just a wide open surface, except for the cranes sitting over the holes to the holds below. At the front of the ship were the tower and the ship’s quarters. It was on the far side of this that they could hear the music coming from. The deck was fairly well lit and along with the eerie glow from Ansly’s sinking ship, they would be easy targets.

“This side is the darkest, there’s stuff piled along the way. We’ll stay close to the railing, that way we can jump over if we get spotted.”

Horatio assessed the situation and agreed with Bob. “Let’s go.”

July paddled her boat back from the ship until she felt safe in the darkness. From here she could see Bob and Horatio’s progress along the deck, moving from cover to cover. Then her eye caught something. There was a man standing on a platform up high near the bridge. He had been standing in the shadows before, now he’d come forward into the light.

July watched as the man took a drink from a bottle. Her heart was in her mouth; she saw the man crouch down and slip his rifle off his shoulder. “He has seen them; I’ve got to warn them, but how?” Her mind raced.

“Don’t panic!” she told herself, reaching into the box and pulling out a flare gun. She aimed in the general direction of the man and fired. The trail of fire left her hand and arced toward the ship hitting a wall, then skipped by the man, almost hitting him before it exploded into a flash of light, nearly blinding her. The man tumbled off where he had been standing and disappeared below. This didn’t stop July. She started grabbing flare gun after flare gun firing them onto the ship.

When the first flare went off, Bob’s first instinct was to go over the railing; in fact, he almost did when he felt Horatio’s hand on his shoulder. “I saw a man fall off from up there,” he pointed. “July must have seen him.” Another flare went off sending the most spectacular array of colors.

“Come on,” Horatio told him, “let’s make a run for the front.” Bob followed him as they ran as fast as they could until they reached the enclosed part of the ship.

The whole ship was awash in color now; the light was blinding. They shielded their eyes as they peered around the corner. There they were in full view. Most of the men were standing around looking up at the exploding lights. In the center, sitting at a table in a white shirt was a man Bob took to be El Presidente.

Bob heard Horatio’s gun beside him begin to fire, and he did the same. There was total chaos; men began to scramble everywhere. Bob tried to concentrate his fire on the table where El Presidente sat, but it wasn’t easy to do as men were running right in front of his line of fire trying to get away. Bob’s gun wasn’t firing anymore.

“Empty,” he said, pulling out the clip and frantically trying to put another one in. He saw the man in the white shirt slide under the table. Fucking clip wouldn’t go in, he looked to see; he was trying to put it in backward.

“There,” he felt it click in. “Short bursts,” he remembered Horatio telling him to pull the trigger only halfway back.

He concentrated through all the shit going on around him and systematically began shooting into the table where El Presidente had sat. He saw the table splinters fly off the table, but whether he had ever hit El Presidente, he would never know. Bob was so focused on hitting his target; he didn’t notice anything else happening until an electrical panel box near him blew off the wall.