Legend of the Gypsy Queen Skull: The Devil's Triangle - Book 1 (8 page)

Just then the black cat charged at him and
leapt into the air.

“No Muenster!” Zelia said stepping forward,
reaching her hand out, trying to intervene.

Transforming into a crow, fluttering his
wings, he hovered in midair until he landed on the man’s extended
arm. Squawking aloud, the stranger scratched him on the back of his
feathery neck.

“It’s good to see you too, old friend.”

“Oh, I see,” Zelia said, relaxing, taking a
step back.

As a witch, who’d worked with the
supernatural on a daily basis, even she was taken back by him and
the temple.

In her mind, there was no doubt he was
indeed a god, but the question was,
which one?

Present Day ~ Third Week of July ~ Bismarck’s
Home ~ Alexandria, VA

Later that afternoon Heinz popped his head
into Tinnie’s room upstairs. Looking around, on her bed he saw a
perfectly aligned row of her recently rolled socks. Next to them,
her black cat was fast asleep on his back with all four paws
pointing up into the air. Unaware of her brother’s nosy presence,
Tinnie was intensely practicing with her nunchucks while she
watched herself in the full length mirror.

Her long black ponytail swished back and
forth as she flung the pair of chain-linked wooden handles around
her waist and then over her shoulders. She was wearing her
killer bee
yellow tracksuit with thick black racing stripes
running down the sides of it. It was similar to the one Bruce Lee
wore in his movies.

Finishing up, she spun around and snapped a
roundhouse kick into the face of her imaginary foe and shouted,
“Keeeey-Aye!”

“Can I come in?” Heinz asked, barging into
her room.

“What do you want, nerd?” she said in an
annoyed tone, reverently bowing to her mirror.

“Use your headset?”

“No way.”

“Come on,” he pressed.

“I said no,” she replied, not even bothering
to look at him.

“Seriously, come on.”

Biting her lip, she took three quick steps
toward him, and used her foot to push-shove him out of the room.
Slamming the door behind him, she said in a muffled voice, “Beat
it!”

Gathering his balance, Heinz stood up,
pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and walked
away with a smile.

Lifting up his T-shirt, he pulled out her
phone from his waistband and punched in
0609
to unlock
it.

“Like candy from a baby,” he said proudly to
himself.

He’d guessed her security code was the same
as the date she’d found Muenster.

Too predictable
, he smirked, shaking
his head.

Heinz knew if he annoyed his sister enough,
she wouldn’t even give him the courtesy of looking at him. This
gave him the time to slip his hand into her backpack, which was
hanging on the back of her door, and swipe her phone. He’d slip it
back into her room later, but for now he needed it for his upcoming
surveillance mission.

~*~

His next stop was the driveway, where Manny
was shooting some hoops.

“’Sup, boss man?” Heinz said to him as his
older brother drove toward the basket, stopped, and smoothly sunk a
12-foot jump shot.

“Nothing,” Manny replied running under the
basket to retrieve the ball. Pivoting, he fired it over to Heinz,
who casually stepped out of its flight trajectory, allowing it to
noisily crash into the steel trashcans behind him. Covering his
head, Manny ducked some as they continued to clang about on the
ground.

“Nice,” Heinz said sarcastically, slowly
nodding his head.

Manny shuffled over to the cans, righted
them up and began picking up all of the spilled garbage as his
younger brother looked on with a certain amount of amusement.
Walking over to Manny, he picked up the basketball, and handed it
to him.

“So what’s up with the Bahamas?” Heinz asked
him.

“Dunno, but mom was pissed. Did you see the
look on her face?”

“Yeah, I think dad is up to another one of
his big schemes.”

Heinz was referring to the events of a
couple of years ago, when Paul took them to Washington State for a
big surprise
that turned out to be a Bigfoot expedition.

“The Surprise of the Century,” Heinz
laughed.

“I still can’t believe he dragged us across
the country to meet a Bigfoot hunter,” Manny added.

“Not just a Bigfoot hunter, but a Bigfoot
hunter from Craigslist,” Heinz added with an amused smile.

In the wee hours of the night, Paul had in
fact driven them to a forested rendezvous point near Mount Rainier
in Washington. They were there to meet a man who claimed to have
the body of a deceased Sasquatch that he wanted to sell.

“Remember how giddy Dad was when we rolled
up on that creeper’s van?” Manny continued, shaking his head in
disbelief.

“You mean the serial killer van,” Heinz
humorously corrected him.

“What was his name again?” Manny asked
snapping his finger.

Heinz pretended to spit tobacco on the
ground and firmly shook Manny’s hand. “Jim Randle. Bonafide
Sasquatch hunter,” he said as Manny busted up laughing.

“How big did dad’s eyes get as he hung on
that guy’s every word?”

“And his story about how he tracked it down
by its footprints and droppings,” Heinz added.

“And discovered the secret Sasquatch burial
cave,” Manny chimed in.

“Where all Sasquatches go to die,” Heinz
said with a giggle.

“Dude, the best part was when Jim told us
how he’d knelt down beside the Bigfoot, held its paw, and comforted
it as it lay dying,” Manny said.

“And bid it farewell, in Sasquatch talk. A
series of chirps and whistles!” Heinz blurted out as his eyes
teared up from all the laughing.

The brothers continued busting each other up
recounting the other details of their ill-fated trip and finally
bumped fists.

As it turned out, the Craigslist Squatcher
claims were nothing but a hoax. And his dead Sasquatch body was
really his drunken brother-in-law, whom he’d dressed up in a cheap
gorilla suit after he passed out.

“Dad means well. He’s just kinda impulsive
with an overactive imagination is all,” Manny said in his
defense.

“Maybe so, but his overactive imagination
usually translates into toil and misery for us. Remember the Lost
Dutchman Mine fiasco?” Heinz said as Manny looked straight on at
him. “Or how about panning for gold in the sewers of Boston over
spring break? All because he read hot tip in a Reddit thread.”

“Man, that totally sucked… What do you have
in mind, anyway?”

“He’s up to something. I just need to figure
out what it is... Can I borrow your phone and headset?”

“That’s cool but where’s yours?”

“Tinnie stomped on my phone and flushed it,
when she found out I’d hacked her calls.”

“You hack mine too?”

“Yeah, but your calls were kind of boring,
so I quit listening in.”

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, you were like listening to paint
dry.”

“Should I even ask what you’re going to use
them for?”

“Probably not … I’ll get them back to you
later.”

“I think I left them in my gym bag,” Manny
said.

“You did, but I already snagged ’em,” Heinz
replied with a grin on his face.

“Thanks,” Manny said sarcastically. “Think
fast!” he said hopping to his feet, firing another pass over to his
brother. But once again Heinz simply stepped out of the way and let
the ball fly by him and bounce on down the street.

“Seriously?” Manny said. Taking off after
the ball, he ran behind Heinz and laughed as he playfully smacked
his little brother on the back of his neck.

Summer, 1689 ~ Pirate Ship ~ Barbary Coast
Waters

The final pirate ship was making a run for
the Port of Algiers with the Lexington in hot pursuit. Darcy and
his men were about a quarter-mile behind the corsairs when they
started noticing bales of hemp and barrels of ale bobbing up and
down in the water. Captain Gliv was lightening their load to gain
some much-needed speed to outrun the royal warship.

With quill in hand, Captain Darcy duly
charted the contraband’s nautical coordinates on his map. In time
they’d return to retrieve the discarded spoils and divvy them
amongst his crew. True leadership, he believed, sometimes meant
bending the rules to reward one’s crew for their service. Even
Darcy, a sworn rum drinker if ever there was one, had been known to
indulge in an occasional hemp-infused cigar.

~*~

As the Lexington closed in, things suddenly
became deadly serious on the pirate ship.

Grabbing a slave by his neck, Captain Gliv
snarled into his ear.

“Let’s see if His Majesty’s navy pities your
soul,” and tossed him overboard. Turning to his fellow cutthroats
he growled, “Throw the lot of ’em into the sea!”

One of the slaves, who was still shackled in
chains, dropped to his knees, clasped his hands together, and
sobbingly pleaded.

“Please master, I beg thee, spare my
wretched soul.”

But Gliv sneered and backhanded him with his
meaty paw, knocking him down to the deck.

“Throw this chum to the sharks.”

His henchmen quickly seized ahold the slave
and dragged him kicking and screaming to the railing where they
tossed him overboard. His cries were only silenced when he plunged
into the waves, never to resurface.

“Unchain, the others,” Gliv added. “Maybe
they’ll slow ‘em down.”

Moments later, the pirates tossed more of
their captives overboard but at least this time they were able to
tread water.

~*~

Gliv’s cruelty made Captain Darcy’s blood
boil as he watched the slaves drift by the Lexington, shrieking out
for help. But the veteran sea captain knew better than to take the
bait. During battle, momentum was everything, and now wasn’t the
time to flinch. Any delay would surely allow the pirates to slip
away.

Even more worrisome was their proximity to
Algiers. Should Gliv and his pirates manage to escape, they would
surely rally a fleet of Barbary Coast pirate ships to mount a
counterattack. The royal convoy would have a day’s jump on them but
they’d never make it to a safe port in time. The only option was to
deal with this last corsair boat now, but the sun was already
beginning to dip below the horizon.

~*~

“See to it they throw any nonessentials
overboard. We’ve gotta lighten her up,” Darcy said to his
lieutenant. “We’ve maybe 40 minutes of daylight left to catch ’em,
then our goose is cooked, aye.”

“Aye,” Fairfield replied and hurried
off.

Turning to his detail on the main deck, the
captain shouted out.

“Cut loose all the lifeboats!”

If they didn’t catch Gliv and his thugs, the
rowboats wouldn’t do them any good anyway. Once the Barbary pirate
fleet had caught up with them, they’d blow every vessel they had
out of the water. At least now the slaves in the water could use
them.

~*~

Fifteen minutes later, the Lexington was now
only feet away from the rear of the pirate ship, but the real task
was yet to be had. They still had to capture the pirate flagship
and Gliv’s crew wasn’t going down without a fight. Also, the other
royal convoy ships were still dealing with their own corsair
vessels and wouldn’t be able to assist them. Darcy and his men
would be on their own in this fight.

Drawing his two flintlock pistols from his
waistband, Captain Darcy double checked them, ensuring they were
loaded. This mission had become personal, and he had murder in his
eyes. These dogs were going to pay dearly for what they had done,
beginning with their brutish captain.

~*~

As the Lexington pulled up alongside the
pirate ship, Captain Gliv could hear their oars crackling and
snapping into two.

Thrusting his fist into the air, he made the
first move.

“Give ’em hell, boys! FIRE!” he ordered and
instantly his ship’s cannons roared to life, ripping into the
Lexington with stunning ferocity.

Everywhere on the English warship, decks and
railings were exploding apart as burning debris rained down on her
crew.

Soon, a thick cloud of spent gunpowder, the
true fog of war, began to linger over the decks of both ships.

Although he would have preferred to sink
Gliv’s ship, Darcy had ordered the Lexington’s cannons to remain
silent. He didn’t want to endanger the remaining innocents held
captive aboard the slave ship.

~*~

With chaos reigning all around him, Seaman
Jansen crawled behind a cannon’s mount, seeking cover, when a
nearby explosion propelled him out from his hiding place.

“Ahhhh!” he screamed as a sharp stabbing
pain shot up his leg. Grimacing, he looked down to see a sharpened
piece of timber sticking straight through his calf muscle. Reaching
for the wooden shard, he tried futilely to remove it but only
managed to amplify his pain.

With the color in his face quickly leaving
him, senior crewman, Joshua Burnham, seized ahold of his wrist.

“Leave it be sonny. Otherwise, you’ll bleed
to death.”

“Now, hold still,” Joshua added and broke
off the protruding ends of the shard from either side of his calf
as Jansen gritted his teeth.

Tearing off one of the boy’s sleeves, Joshua
used it to bandage his leg.

Finishing up his handiwork, he slapped the
greenhorn on his shoulder and said, “Get ready sonny. We’re going
over the railing lickety split.”

The speechless seaman’s jaw nearly hit the
deck.

Fight? I can’t even walk!

~*~

With the intense barrage of fire coming from
the slave ship the Lexington’s casualties began to mount.

“Keep firing!” Gliv screamed out, handing
another cannonball to one of his gunners.