Under a Tell-Tale Sky: Disruption - Book 1 (24 page)

“We’re leaning toward Pine Valley Country Club. It’s a straight shot up Shipyard Boulevard on a wide open road with no pinch points or likely places for the bangers to ambush us. We can set up another small container fort there in the middle of one of the golf courses and maintain open fields of fire. Then we can install a field kitchen and forward supply dump for food and water with enough guys to defend it. We won’t need many because we’re only a radio call and a ten- or twelve-minute ride away. We set up mess tents outside the secure area of the new fort and have the people file through to be fed. It’s inevitable a refugee population is going to gravitate there, but there’s a lot of open land on the golf courses. Also it’s far enough away that we don’t have to worry about attracting a shanty town around us here at Fort Box. We have to maintain clear fields of fire if we have any chance of holding this place against an attack, by the bangers or anyone else.”

“Sounds like you got it worked out,” Butler said.

“Mostly, but sanitation and water issues are gonna be a problem. But hell, we haven’t even solved those here, at least in the long run.”

“I think our water problems may be solved. Our snipes were talking to the engineers on the
Maersk Tangier
. They figure they can run the ships’ evaporators. There may be health concerns using the river for feed water, but beggars can’t be choosers. They’re working on a way to convert some of the ship’s heat exchangers to raise and hold the outlet water at a high enough temperature to kill any remaining bacteria, just to be on the safe side. If it works, I think you can count on your little swimming pool waterworks staying full no matter how hard you pump it. Sanitation is a different issue. We can’t just be dumping our sewage in the river, especially right by where we’re gonna be taking in our drinking water feedstock, but they’re working on it.”

“How’re the ships’ crews taking their new forced residence?”

Butler shrugged. “The Americans seem to be okay with it. I mean, no one’s forcing them to stay, and if they want to head overland back to their homes, we offered to supply them and wish them Godspeed. The foreign crews are a different story, since they’re pretty much stuck here. We’ll just have to see how that plays out.”

Wright nodded and they lapsed into silence until Butler spotted Singletary moving along the docks, looking up at the ships.

“Damn!” Butler said, pulling back from where he’d been leaning with his forearms resting on the ship’s rail.

“BUTLER! WAIT UP!” came the cry from below.

Butler backed away from the rail to ensure he wasn’t visible from the dock below.

“NO NEED TRYING TO DODGE ME AGAIN, BUTLER,” Singletary yelled up. “I KNOW YOU’RE UP THERE AND AIN’T BUT ONE WAY OFF THAT SHIP. SO I’M JUST GONNA SIT MY ASS DOWN HERE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GANGWAY ‘TIL YOU DECIDE TO COME ON DOWN.”

Wright grinned. “Looks like you’re busted. What’s all that about?”

Butler sighed. “In a moment of weakness I promised Levi I’d help this asshole find a boat to get back to Baltimore. Like I didn’t have enough to do already. Anyway, he’s been bugging me for two days straight now, so I guess I’d better take care of it and get him out of my hair.”

“He probably just wants to get home to his family, like everyone else.”

“Yeah, maybe, but that’s not the vibe he gives off. It’s not like he’s worried, but more like he’s—I don’t know, afraid he’s missing out on something, I guess is the best way to describe it. Kind of ‘entitled’ somehow. Anyway, it just doesn’t feel right,” Butler said.

“All the more reason to get rid of the bastard,” Wright said. “If he’s trouble, we don’t want him around. Besides, how long can it take to find a boat, load him up with fuel and supplies and wish him bon voyage?”

“I don’t know, something tells me it’s not going to be that easy,” Butler said, moving toward the gangway.

***

Butler stood outside the small cabin of the patrol boat and looked upstream at the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge looming over the river. He spotted movement and raised his binoculars. Sure enough there were two figures on the bridge, one pointing at the patrol boat. The second figure nodded and jumped on a motorcycle to speed off in the direction of Wilmington. Butler keyed his throat mike so he could be heard over the roar of the outboards by both the helmsman and the machine gunner in the bow.

“We may have a welcoming committee, so punch it up to full speed, and zigzag so they can’t be sure where we’re going to cross under the bridge. These are probably the same assholes who tried to bombard Levi and Anthony.”

“Roger that,” the helmsman replied.

“Guns, possible threat on the bridge. Do you see him?” Butler asked.

“I got him, Chief,” the gunner replied.

“Roger that, Guns. Track him, but only fire on my order.”

“Roger that, Chief.”

The boat began to zigzag and Singletary stuck his head out the cabin door.

“What’s going on? Why we zigzagging?”

“Possible threat on the bridge. Don’t worry about it, Singletary. Just stay in the cabin.”

Singletary muttered under his breath and pulled his head back in. Butler resumed his watch of the solitary figure on the bridge, surprised to see the man now had binoculars trained on the boat. The man let the glasses fall to his chest on the neck strap and raised an assault rifle.

“Shooter! Weapons free!” Butler said into the throat mike, and the M240 machine gun on the bow spoke at once, silencing the threat before the man got off a single round.

Butler heard movement beside him and turned to see Singletary in the cabin door.

“GET BACK IN THE CABIN, SINGLETARY!”

Then they were under the bridge, zigzagging up the river.

“Helm, maintain full speed and secure zigzagging. Keep us on the west side of the river as far away from Wilmington as possible.”

“Roger that,” came the reply, and Butler heard the distant sound of motorcycles from the Wilmington side of the bridge. No doubt their reception on the return trip would be a bit warmer.

Five minutes later they passed the battleship
USS North Carolina
in her permanent berth, and a few minutes later, they stayed right when the river split, now hugging the west bank of the Northeast Cape Fear River. They continued upstream until the lift bridge serving US 74 came into view, and in its shadow, the marinas lining the eastern bank of the river. Butler raised his binoculars and glassed the length of the bridge, but it seemed clear.

“Helm, cut your speed. We need to go boat shopping. Guns, stay alert. I don’t know who those guys on the bridge were, but they know we’re on the river, so they might come looking for us.”

Butler got affirmative replies and stuck his head into the cabin.

“Get on out here, Mr. Singletary, and let’s find you a boat. I don’t want to hang around here too long.”

Singletary grunted an acknowledgment and exited the cabin to stand at Butler’s side as the boat slowed to a crawl along a long stretch of floating docks jammed with boats.

“We should be able to find something here,” Butler said. “I’d like to avoid transiting under the bridge.”

Singletary grunted again, looking down the long line of boats.

“Most of ‘em look to be sailboats.”

“True, but there are quite a few powerboats. There’s a nice little Boston Whaler over there—”

“Ain’t got no cabin, in fact, none of these powerboats have a cabin. I’m probably gonna have to live in this thing when I get to Baltimore, you know,” Singletary said.

I guess the asshole’s got a point, thought Butler.

“All right, Mr. Singletary, let’s have a look upstream on the other side of the bridge,” Butler said, and keyed his throat mike.

“Haul ass under the bridge at full power and go on by the docks nearest to the bridge. Guns, get the sniper rifle and come back to the stern. Any threat’s likely to come from the bridge and you can’t cover that with the M2 on the bow when we’re headed upstream. I want you scanning for threats, but especially the bridge. Do you copy?”

“Roger that,” said the gunner, moving aft as the helmsman accelerated to blast under the bridge.

Two hundred yards past the bridge, Butler ordered the boat to slow again and began cruising along another extensive stretch of floating docks. Butler spotted something and motioned the helmsman to pull alongside a moored vessel.

“Here we go, Mr. Singletary,” Butler said, “this looks like just what the doctor ordered. About twenty-five feet, I’d say, a nice little cuddy cabin, twin outboards so you’ll have a backup if one breaks down, and I’m pretty sure we’ll find a berth as well as a galley and a head. Looks perfect.”

Singletary was looking further up the dock. “What about that one?”

Butler followed Singletary’s pointing finger to a power yacht occupying a long length of the dock several berths away. It was sixty or seventy feet long and obviously a custom-built luxury vessel. He looked back at Singletary. “You’re not serious?”

“Damn right I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“That’s a lot of boat for one man to handle, and I expect it burns through fuel pretty fast,” Butler said.

“Let me worry about handling it,” Singletary said, “and you said I could have all the fuel I needed. It ain’t like you don’t have tanks of it sitting around.”

“I’m talking about AFTER you get to Baltimore,” Butler said. “You won’t have access to fuel. Besides, that’s way more boat than you need to get to Baltimore or to even live on after you get there. This cuddy boat is a better choice, anyway.”

“Oh, I see, y’all don’t have any problem taking RVs and trailers and such, but if I want to pick out my own boat, then you decide it’s too good for me. What’s your problem, Butler, it ain’t like it’s your boat.”

Butler’s face hardened. “There’s a big difference between taking a twenty- or thirty-thousand-dollar trailer to house a family or a group of single guys and stealing a half-million-dollar yacht. You want to take the yacht? Hop out now and be my guest, but just keep on trucking when you pass our docks because I’m not giving you jack. I agreed to help you get home, not outfit you like a friggin’ Saudi prince.”

“That ain’t fair!”

“Tough. You want the cuddy boat or not? Make up your mind, because in two minutes, we’re headed back downriver, with you or without you.”

Singletary glared at Butler. “Fine. I’ll take the friggin’ cuddy boat.”

“Then hop out and check it out. I suspect you’ll have to break into the cabin and I doubt there’s a key around. You got any problem hot-wiring the ignition?”

“I think I can handle it,” Singletary said.

“I figured you probably could,” Butler said, earning him another glare from Singletary.

A few minutes later, Singletary had the engines running on the boat, and Butler nodded approval.

“You got enough fuel to get back? I want to go the long way around and avoid trouble at the bridge,” Butler yelled across to Singletary.

“Easy,” Singletary replied, and Butler nodded and motioned for the helmsman to move the Coast Guard boat back into the river. As he did so, the gunner resumed his place at the bow machine gun, and Singletary cast off and fell in behind the Coasties.

The Coast Guard boat roared downstream at full power, dropping speed a bit only when Singletary was falling behind. At Peter Point, they turned hard to starboard, continuing up the Cape Fear River and bypassing downtown Wilmington and whatever reception committee might be awaiting them atop the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. They continued up the Cape Fear River until its juncture with the Brunswick, and then turned south downstream on the Brunswick until it once again intersected the Cape Fear River, some distance downstream from the container terminal. It tripled the length of the trip, but given the speed of both of the boats, it wasn’t a real issue. It was early afternoon when they turned into the Cape Fear River and headed upstream to the newly christened Fort Box.

Same Day, 4:00 p.m.

“I don’t know, Singletary,” Mike Butler said, “I think I’d wait and leave in the morning. You can’t really travel at night with all the navigational aids out, so you’re not going to get very far tonight. If you leave at first light, that would give you time to get in a good day’s run and plenty of time to find a good anchorage for the night.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that? I got the fuel topped up and plenty of extra, and all the food and water is loaded, so I’m ready to go. And I’m tired of all your crap anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Butler said, and turned his back to walk away from the dock.

Singletary shot the finger at the retreating Coastie’s back, moved down the vertical latter to where his boat rested beneath the high container dock, and cast off, happy to finally be on his own. The boat was laboring a bit, loaded down as it was with all he could possibly get aboard. However, even at that he figured he’d reach his destination with a couple of hours of daylight left; plenty of time to get his stores shifted over and prepare for an early departure tomorrow morning. He smiled. Maybe he should have thanked Butler for showing him a way not only around the bridge, but also around ‘Fort Box’ and its collection of assholes.

As he approached the mouth of the Brunswick River, he began a long sweeping turn to starboard and started upstream. He knew where he was spending the night, all right, and it wasn’t anchored in the weeds on some Godforsaken mosquito-infested stretch of the Intracoastal Waterway. He figured his new yacht would have a pretty nice master bedroom.

Same Day, 8:00 p.m.

Singletary looked around the main salon, not believing his good fortune. He’d been over the yacht from stem to stern, and been even more delighted to discover the tanks were topped up with diesel. That had been a worry, since all the extra fuel he’d taken from Fort Box was gasoline. He’d figured he might have to scavenge fuel from the other diesel-powered boats in the marina, but that would take time. Without that worry, he was free to depart at first light.

All of his stores were aboard, and he cursed once again at a lost opportunity. If Butler hadn’t been such a prick about the yacht, he’d have been able to take a lot more stores. He’d also loaded the extra gasoline from the cuddy boat aboard the yacht. Even though he couldn’t use it directly, he figured it would be useful to barter.