A Town Called America (33 page)

“Refuel vessel 749A13, refuel vessel 749A13, this is
Gem of the Seas
. Over.”

Too many radios and buttons
, Rick thought, as he tried to figure out which radio was actually calling them. He answered after turning his attention to a black radio with a small red light. “
Gem of the Seas
, this is refuel vessel 749A13. Over.”

“I need you to stand by for authentication, 749A13. Over.”

“I hope this works,” L.J. told Rick, who stood next to him on the bridge.

“It’ll work. Trust me,” Rick said confidently.

“Your ship identification has been confirmed, 749A13, and you’re clear for approach on the port side. Stand by at that location for further guidance once your vessel is in place. Then drop to two. Over.”

“Um…Roger. Over,” Rick said, now showing slight concern that this may have been a bad idea. “OK, quick question, L.J. Which side is starboard, and which is the port side?”

“What? I don’t know,” L.J., replied shaking his head. “I’m just the generator guy.”

Rick looked at his team, who stared back and shook their heads in unison.

“And what the hell does ‘drop to two’ mean?” one of his men asked.

“That mean’s they’re changing the broadcast channel to two,” Rick said, “As for port side or starboard, it’s a fifty-fifty shot. I say we go right.”

Rick, at the helm, guided the vessel toward the right side of the massive cruise ship. At more than six feet tall and at least three hundred pounds, L.J. towered over him. He wasn’t fat by any means, just big. He went by “L.J.” because it was short for “Little John.” His head was shaved bald, and his arms were massive, nearly the size of Rick’s legs.

He’d been working with Rick and Robbie for several years, ever since they’d first recruited him from a small town. At the time Robbie had taken it upon himself, against Rick’s better judgment, to sneak into an M.M. outpost and steal food and supplies the M.M. had stolen from the town during one of its raids.

Rick had warned Robbie that it wasn’t a wise idea to go alone, so after Robbie left, Billy and Rick discreetly followed him. When they caught up to him a day later, Robbie already had broken into the outpost, stolen the goods, killed nine people, escaped, and returned to the town that had been raided.

Robbie was handing out food and dry goods to the few people left in the area. L.J. was helping to keep the townspeople from swarming Robbie while he gave out the supplies. That hadn’t been the first time Robbie had done something like that, and although Rick had thought it foolish, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

In a small room aboard
The Gem of the Seas
, just off the main bridge, ten seats were filled with M.M. soldiers, all facing computer screens that
were monitoring the ship’s closed-circuit TV cameras as well as the ship’s communications.

“Sergeant, what’s that refuel vessel doing? The refuel station is on the port side,” said a tall thin, major, standing directly behind where his sergeant sat. The sergeant was the same man who’d been speaking with Rick over the radio.

“I was just about to alert you of the situation. Should I put our weapons station on alert, sir?

“No, Sergeant. That won’t be necessary,” the major said. “Place them on standby, and await my command.”

“Yes, sir.”

The major turned and walked through the oval-shaped door that led to the bridge. With his binoculars he attempted to catch sight of the refuel vessel.

Rick was watching out the front window as he turned the steering wheel, causing his small ship to move to the right of the cruise ship “We’re good,” he said confidently.

“No, we’re not. Bring it around full circle. Do it now!” L.J. yelled.

When Rick turned the wheel hard in the opposite direction, the small vessel turned away from the cruise ship, and again the radio hummed.

“Refuel vessel 749A13, refuel vessel 749A13, this is
Gem of the Seas
. Over.”

“Ah, shit,” Rick muttered. “
Gem of the Seas
,” he said into the radio, “this is refuel vessel 749A13. Over.”

“You aren’t authorized to approach the starboard of our vessel, 749A13. Move to port side and confirm. Over.”

“Um, Roger. Be advised that our rudder has malfunctioned, and we’re currently…addressing the situation. Over.”

“I copy that your rudder has malfunctioned, and you’re attempting repairs at this time. Over.”

“Roger, that’s a good copy here. Um, I’m moving to the left…I mean port side. Over.”

“Stand by at your current location, 749A13, and prepare to be boarded. Over.”

“Roger. Standing by. Over.”

“Quick, I need booze now!” Rick demanded.

“What? You want to drink now?” L.J. said with a crooked half smile.

“I’ve got an idea, so just get me some booze,” Rick snapped.

Three minutes later L.J. came running back into the wheel room and handed Rick two half-empty bottles of Captain Morgan. Rick splashed the liquor on his shoulders and clothes. He took two huge gulps, swishing it around in his mouth, before he spat it out, letting it dribble down his chest.

“Fast now…put these on me.”

“I think I follow you.” L.J. said, as another member of his group placed him in handcuffs.

“Damn,” Rick said. “The bodies.”

Without argument or question, L.J. quickly grabbed the first body and pulled it down the wooden steps to the left of the captain’s seat. He paid no attention as the man’s head hit every step on the way to the lower level. A few minutes later, L.J. had disposed of the remaining body just before a small boarding craft pulled up next to the refuel vessel.

Seven armed soldiers stepped aboard and made their way to the bridge, where they saw only two men: Rick, wearing a bright-yellow raincoat over his shoulders, and L.J., standing near the steering wheel a few feet from him.

L.J. looked down at the soldiers, whom he towered over. He spoke first. “Gentlemen, this man is in my custody. He is—or was—the captain of this vessel and is intoxicated. Therefore I have relieved him of his duties.”

The staff sergeant in charge of the boarding party looked at Rick, who sat at a small table, mumbling. He walked over to Rick and put his nose close to his neck. “You, sir, are a fine mess and will now be taken into my custody.”

“Sir…I…please…I’m fine,” Rick said, shaking his head and slurring his speech in his best effort to appear drunk.

“You, sir, are far from fine.”

The staff sergeant, using the radio that was attached to his belt, called his supervisor. He explained that the captain was intoxicated, and he would be transferring him to a holding cell aboard the cruise ship.

Once permission was granted, the soldiers took Rick by the arm and moved him toward the door, when he stumbled and fell to the ground, laughing.

“Get up, you fool!” the staff sergeant demanded.

Rick, having kept just enough room in his handcuffs, slipped out of them and grabbed his pistol, which had been under his raincoat. He pulled it out and shot the sergeant twice in the stomach. He then turned his weapon on the next closest person and shot him in the left knee. The soldier instantly dropped, grasping his knee and screaming.

During the scuffle L.J. had hit another soldier over the head with a Captain Morgan bottle, just after taking a swig of rum himself. The bottle shattered as it the man’s head, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

L.J. picked up the soldier by the neck, lifting him off his feet, followed by a chokeslam. Simultaneously Rick’s other two men, who’d been hiding below deck, entered the control room and shot the last remaining soldiers in the back.

Rick looked out the window at the small boarding craft that was tied to the fuel vessel three decks below. “I don’t think anyone heard the shots. I don’t see any movement down there, but if they saw any flashes from the weapons going off, we’re in serious trouble.”

Rick placed his hands back in the cuffs and told L.J. to stay aboard the refuel vessel and wait for him. “You know what to do,” he said.

“You got it, sir.”

After Rick’s two associates changed into uniforms they had removed from the dead soldiers, they led him off the fuel vessel in handcuffs. On the boarding craft that was tied to the fuel vessel, Rick was led to a small control room.

“What took you all so damn long?” a soldier of maybe twenty said. He was sitting in a chair next to the ship’s wheel when he looked over at Rick and the soldiers.

“Wait, weren’t there seven of you? Where are the other men?”

“You’re brighter than you look,” Rick said, as he reached up and punched the young man straight in the nose. The man was then gagged, taken aboard the fuel vessel, and handcuffed to the railing next to the engine-room door, which they had intentionally left open.

Once all three were aboard, they untied the vessels. L.J. was on the fuel vessel, moving toward the port side of
The Gem of the Seas
, as Rick’s team made their way to the starboard side of the boarding craft they’d just acquired.

FORTY SIX

B
illy, along with his two counterparts, moved fast along the water in their small black skiff. The wake of the craft was actually quite large for a skiff of that size; therefore they slowed their speed considerably to try to remain as concealed as possible.

Billy sat near the front of the boat, focused and ready for the upcoming engagement. He wasn’t a military officer, as he had turned down the position to be more or less of an aide to Rick. Although he didn’t have an official title or official rank, he was well respected by Rick and the troops.

The cool ocean water splashed over the skiff, hitting Billy in the face. It was exactly what he needed to bring his mind back to reality as he had drifted off in a daydream.

Four hundred meters away from the cruise ship, they cut off their engine, and two of the men, one on each side of the boat, were paddling.

Once they were alongside
The Gem of the Seas
, the reality of the ship’s size began to sink in. Taking the ship would be the equivalent of taking a small city, and they had only handful of men to do it. Looking at the cruise ship next to them was like standing next to the Great Wall of China; the ship appeared to continue into infinity. That wouldn’t stop them, though. They’d complete their mission successfully or die trying.

As soon as the skiff was next to the cruise ship, Billy folded up a copy of the ship’s floor plans that he had been studying and placed it back in his vest pocket.

“Move forward another ten meters. Do you see that section over there where that second piece of metal overlaps the first? That’s where we need to be.”

The two men with the paddles repositioned the skiff until they were in place. Billy pulled out a collapsible ladder that had been tucked under the seats and unfolded it. Fortunately the cruise ship was anchored, as it would have been nearly impossible for them complete their task if the ship were moving.

Once the ladder was unfolded and set in place at the center of the skiff, one of the men who’d been paddling climbed ten feet up while the other held the ladder steady. At the top of the ladder, he opened the large sack that was on his back and pulled out a blowtorch. After placing goggles over his eyes, he lit the torch, adjusted the flame, and cut into the side of the ship.

Only five minutes into the process, a large wave struck the side of the skiff. The power of the wave was forceful enough that the man on the ladder lost his footing and fell backward, landing hard on the raft. The man who’d been holding the ladder screamed out in pain as the flame of the blowtorch landed near his foot, burning through his boot. Billy quickly grabbed the torch and turned off the flame.

“Are you OK?” Billy asked the injured man.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, wincing as he took off his boot and wrapped the fresh burn with his t-shirt that he soaked in water.

After the man with the blowtorch regained his balance and climbed the ladder again, he began to cut once more. This time he leaned in closer to the ship to better balance himself. He continued to cut until he had made a five-by-five-foot square in the outer skin of the ship. Once the outer skin had been breached, Billy’s team watched as the man began the even more tedious process of cutting through the thick midsection and inner wall of the cruise ship.