Seeking Safe Harbor: Suddenly Everything Changed (The Seeking Series) (30 page)

“Didn’t you say Avalon was taken over by hooligans?”

“Yes, and I got word last night that they’ve learned about the settlement at The Isthmus. They went there yesterday and demanded food and fuel.”

“That sounds familiar,” said Zach. “What happened?”

“The leaders at The Isthmus pretty much told them they could have what they worked for and nothing more.”

“Good for them,” Zach said. “But, I imagine that didn’t go over too well with the hooligans.”

“They said they would be back with a small army to take what they wanted.”

“Maybe the container ship is doing everyone a favor,” Zach suggested.

“I can’t fault your logic,” said the captain, “but right now, we’re sort of like cops. We can’t pick and choose who we protect. When bad guys attack someone, we have to go stop them, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

* * * * *

At a little after five,” the Arthurs noticed the ship altered its coarse from almost due south to southwest.

“What do you think it means?” Stacey asked her husband.

“This will take us to The Isthmus instead of Avalon. That should be good news, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

They, along with Glen and Mae, went looking for Captain Kotchel. They found him on the forward deck where the weapons were. Some had been bolted down and others were loose on deck. Ron was there, talking to several of the Coast Guardsmen.

“What’s happening?” Zach asked.

“Ron was on a missile cruiser when he was in the navy,” Kotchel said. “We’ve had a little training this past month, but he’s filling us in on what we missed.”

Glen spotted five bazookas lying on the deck off to one side. He went over and picked one up. After he examined it, he said to Kotchel. “Where did you get these?”

“A fellow brought those five and several hundred shells in from some old armory out in the desert. They looked pretty lethal, so we traded some diesel for all he had. Are you familiar with them?”

“Sure,” said the old vet. “You made a good deal. These are M20s, ‘Super Bazookas.’ Haven’t seen one in years, but we used them a lot in Viet Nam. You’re right; it is lethal. It’ll penetrate six inches of steel, easily.”

“Do you remember how to use it?”

“Yep. I used to knock out vehicles at five hundred yards with one of these.”

“Do you feel like training some people?”

“It will be my pleasure!”

Zach stood by as patiently as he could while his father and the vessel’s captain talked but cut in when there was a lull in the conversation. “It sounds like the training is going to be top notch,” he said, “but what I meant was, why are we headed for The Isthmus instead of Avalon?”

“Necessity,” said Kotchel. “The container ship apparently finished doing what it set out to do at Avalon. They left there and headed northwest. That can only mean The Isthmus.”

“My son is there!” Stacey exclaimed.

“I know.”

“How long before we get there?” Zach asked.

“About half an hour.”

“Can we beat them there?” Stacey wanted to know.

Kotchel looked her in the eye. “I don’t think so. The problem is that we don’t know exactly when they left Avalon. It could have been up to an hour ago, which means…”

“Which means they may be near The Isthmus already.” She finished his sentence, and her voice dropped in her final words.

They all looked ahead, straining to see their destination. The fog was thinning. Although they got glimpses of land at times, they never saw anything for more than a few seconds.

The loud sounds of big guns going off brought total silence among those at the bow of the cutter. They still couldn’t see what was dead ahead, but there was no doubt that the sounds emanated from there.

The Isthmus was under attack.

T
HE modern-day pirates on the makeshift container-warship, fresh from demolishing the picturesque tourist town of Avalon, were having a marvelous time at The Isthmus. They had uncovered a stash of liquor in a ruined restaurant in Avalon that the ruffians who had previously taken over the town evidently overlooked.

The pirates were depleting their newfound stash at a rapid clip. The alcohol magnified their already prevalent penchant to destroy. All three tanks and all the missile and rocket launchers pointed in the direction of the little settlement.

They were just under two hundred yards offshore. Although they would have liked to move in closer to increase their chances of hitting their targets, the huge ship had a draft of almost forty feet, and they were as close as they could get.

Because many of their targets were set lower than the deck level of the monster ship, all the weapons were near the bow. Ten men kneeled next to the tanks with small rocket launchers on their shoulders. Even in that normally stable stance, they tended to stagger. Nevertheless, they did get off shots between drinks. Most of their shots were hitting hills with nothing but plants.

The men, staggering as they shot, were having a difficult time. The twenty men shooting missiles from the other side of the tanks weren’t doing much better. Having clear shots from the bow wasn’t much help at first, but that didn’t bother them. They were getting closer with each shot, and they seemed to believe they had unlimited ammo and time.

The helicopter pilot was inside his craft. He still had four missiles loaded into the launchers attached to the sides, but he didn't need them for such a small job. He just drank and enjoyed the show.

Although almost all the shooters’ first volley went wild, they did knock out one roof and started a small fire. The residents immediately went about putting out the small fires. Several shots went well wide of the buildings and traveled through the little “valley” between the two harbors, hitting and sinking two of the more than twenty boats anchored there. The hits were the results of bad aims, but those who fired the shots pointed proudly at their accomplishments. The sinking of the Bismarck in WWII probably engendered a less raucous outburst from their shipmates. They were having a great time.

The pirates knew they would eventually kill everyone there, so they continued to drink and shoot. The captains of the ship, two ex-merchant mariners, watched from the ship’s bridge, which they called the wheelhouse. They did nothing to interfere with the men. Working with a crew such as theirs required patience. They, too, knew they had unlimited time and ammunition… and, virtually no opposition. The people on land had a voluntary “militia” of more than forty, but all they had were small arms, which were useless against the massive ship, tanks, rockets and missiles.

The fog was lifting, and the pirate ship would have at least two hours of sunlight to accomplish their task. As bad as the shooters were, they would demolish the settlement in a quarter of that time.

* * * * *

After they heard the initial gunfire, the few minutes it took for the cutter to break through the last of the fog seemed like hours. Those aboard were in awe of the size of the container ship when it finally came into view.

“That’s huge!” said Ron.

Kotchel, who was looking at it through binoculars, said, “Well, it’s smaller than it might have been.”

“Smaller? That’s got to be eight, nine hundred feet long.”

“Over nine hundred I’d say. But some of the new ones are up to twelve hundred feet. At least now I have a better idea of exactly what we’re up against.”

“You were right,” Stacey said. “It’s more than twice the size of the cutter. I bet it’s four times as big.”

Kotchel shook his head. “I wish. Counting overall dimensions and weight, it’s twenty times our size.”

They all took another look at it.

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” said Glen Arthur.

“Think so?” asked the captain

At that moment, the improvised warship was setting off another volley of tank, missile, and rocket fire.

“I can hit it easily with one of those super bazookas,” Arthur said.

The captain didn’t hesitate. “Do it!”

Moving with a speed that belied his age, Zach's father picked up the bazooka he looked at earlier. A nearby crewmember overhead the two men and grabbed a rocket shell. As the senior Arthur aimed, the crewman loaded the shell and a few seconds later, it was on its way.

At the same time, the cutter sounded its siren in an attempt to create confusion.

Moments later, they could see an explosion half way up in the container ship’s superstructure, which was located in the middle of the vessel. The explosion looked small from a distance, but they knew it had done some damage.

And it got the attention of the big ship. All the guns on the container-warship stopped firing.

The blast knocked the two ex-merchant mariners down. While it didn’t do any damage to the bridge itself, it shook the whole superstructure. The two got off the floor looking quizzically at one another. “What the heck was that, Hank?” said one.

The other looked out the back window. “Looks like there’s a ship coming toward us, and that sounds like a Coast Guard siren.”

“Coast Guard ships aren’t armed like that,” the first one snapped.

“Neither are container ships, Joe,” his partner reminded him. He picked up a pair of binoculars and studied the other ship. “It’s not very big. I’m going to turn our ship around and we’ll hit it with everything we have. We’ll sink it in ten minutes. I’ll go down and tell Marty to get the helicopter ready. Once we’re turned around, he can go over and disable it while we get in close. Then we’ll finish the job.”

Before Hank could leave, they felt another jolt. This hit was aft and far away from the superstructure. They could barely feel it there, and had no idea an armor-piercing shell had penetrated their stern below the water line. Hank shrugged. “Not sure what that was, but it couldn’t have done much damage.”

As he started down the outside steps leading to the deck, several of the gunners were starting up. “We’ve got it under control,” Hank called down to them. “Get back to your posts. I’m going to turn around and get close in so you can have fun knocking out a pipsqueak military wanna be ship. Then we’ll come back and finish off those dudes on land.”

The gunners went back to their weapons and their drinks. Hank continued down to the deck and over to the helicopter. After he talked to the pilot, he went back up to the bridge and started the slow process of turning the huge ship around.

The war had been good to him. He finally had the power he always knew he deserved. Those petty military jerks who always looked down on him would soon get a taste of that power. He was about to send them to the bottom of the sea.

A
S THE big ship turned, the senior Arthur hit its stern with a rocket – a hit those in the bridge barely felt. Then, while it was still turning, he shot three more times at the starboard side. He aimed all the shots below the water line. He saw splashes after each shot and was confident they were all hits. The shells were powerful enough to penetrate thick metal, but there was no way of knowing how much damage the big ship suffered.

By the time the ship turned around and headed toward the cutter, the Coast Guard ship had closed in, and the two were no more than a half mile apart.

Captain Kotchel heard how poor the marksmanship of the thugs aboard the cargo ship was… an advantage they needed to exploit. “Those guys couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at this distance,” he told the crew, “so they’re planning on getting in close. We can beat them if we knock out their guns before they get so near they can’t miss. That’s your mission. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Okay,” said Glen, “but first I’m going to put a shell into either side of that wide bow of theirs.” He got off the two shots, and they saw water splash in front of the big ship, first on its starboard side, and then on its port side. He then raised the super bazooka and concentrated on the tanks.

There hadn’t been time enough for the Coastguardsmen to train extensively, but they knew how to aim and shoot. There were people on all the weapons, including the four men and three women connected to the
La Sirena
. Ron was in charge of a missile pod, and Zach and George had handheld rocket launchers similar to the one Zach’s father was using. Stacey and Denise had their AK-47s. They were still too far away for the assault weapons to be lethal, but the container ship was getting closer. Mae looked doubtfully at her shotgun, set it aside, and picked up Zach’s AK-47. That was better.