Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 02 - Peeking Duck (19 page)

-Chapter 40-

Galveston listened intently to my plan, and from the smile on his face, I could tell he liked it.

“
Simple, and I bet it might just work,” he said gleefully.

“
It can’t ‘might just work’,” I said, “it has to work.”

“
Let’s get to it then.  You rig the inside door, and I’ll get the generator running.”

Galveston
moved from our position inside the weather center and disappeared out a back window to the generator shed.  I was left alone inside to gather the materials for my project.

We worked for over an hour until
Galveston returned to the room, panting.

“
How’d you do?” I asked.

“
Excellent, of course,” he said with pride.  “The generator cables were really toasted, but the pirates didn’t try to sabotage the generator completely.  It looks like they were trying to make sure it couldn’t be fixed easily, but they didn’t have the time to destroy the entire thing.   It ought to run, but at a lesser capacity.  It will be enough for what we want.  How ‘bout you?”

“
Good.  I think it will work.”

“
I’ll call Jane and Maddie and update them on our progress.  Hopefully they have a way for us off the
Southern Sea
.  Why don’t you radio the ship and tell them our plan.” 

I liked that
Galveston always talked about our success in future tense.  It made me feel we had a chance to pull this off.  If he had any doubt, he wouldn’t show it. 

Galveston
dialed the satellite phone, and Maddie immediately picked up.  Galveston talked quickly, gave them our coordinates, what ship got us here, and inquired how we were going to get off.  He didn’t leave time for small talk, and he wouldn’t let me talk to Jane.  It was a purposeful move on his part to keep me focused on the task at hand. 

I radioed the
Southern Sea
and informed them of the plan.  They would stay safely out of sight on the leeward side of the island, well away from the action.  I told them if something was to go amiss to radio the British military, but I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.  I began to question why we were taking this on by ourselves and not waiting on the military.  The whole plan was beginning to reveal itself as pure stupidity, but for some reason, maybe it was the adrenaline talking, I knew we could pull it off.  Our plan seemed almost fool proof.

“
Maddie and Jane have scheduled a helicopter to pick us up off the
Southern Sea
when it’s in range.  Once we get control of the
Trusian
and rid it of the pirates, the crew can take over.  We can’t be on the ship for long, for political reasons of course,” Galveston informed me.

I hadn
‘t thought of that.  We had no business being on these islands or on the
Trusian
.  The island was a territory of Great Britain, and we really had no permission to be there.  We would want to be as far away as possible before the authorities from Tristan de Cunha showed up.

“
Alright.  Let’s get this party started,” Galveston announced.

He left, and after about ten minutes
, I saw the lights whirl to life.  The sound of the generator was deafening and reverberated against the near cliff walls.  That would definitely get the pirates attention.

I checked my contraption before moving to the back of the room but
as close as possible to the entrance of the building.  I pulled the binoculars up to my eyes and peered at the
Trusian
.  The generator’s sounds must have echoed to the ship, because I could see a flurry of activity as the pirates gazed at the building we were in.  Galveston ran up beside me as I concentrated on the movements of the mercenaries.

“
Power is up.  The tank was real banged up but should be enough for about ten minutes of power.  What do you have for me?”

I reached beside me and gave
Galveston a fire extinguisher from the wall.  “As soon as you see them enter past that point,” I said, pointing at a makeshift line on the floor, “spray that right at them.”

“
You think these are going to work?” Galveston asked.

“
Hope so.  I tested one, and it did pretty well.  It should be enough to get a few of them.  You might have to use that thing,” I told him, giving a gesture toward his gun. 

I looked back through the binoculars and saw a small boat being lowered from the deck of the ship.  Four pirates were riding inside, heavily armed with
submachine guns.  My heart quickened at the sight.  We weren’t doing this for fun, this was real business.  If we weren’t successful we could end up dead—a sobering thought.

The pirates raced to the rocky beach, and as the small boat hit the edge of the rocks, the pirates filed out and drew their guns.  One man stood by the boat as the other men ran from
the cove.  I lost sight of them as they disappeared from view at the bottom of the hill.

“
They’re coming,” I whispered loudly to Galveston.  “Turn the lights out.”

Galveston
flicked the switch and the room went dark.  I covered the window with a few random papers to block out any remaining light.  We waited patiently for the pirates’ arrival.

I noticed shadows outside the window and saw they were proceeding to the main entrance. 
Galveston readied the fire extinguisher and placed his gun on the table in front of him. 

T
he shadows stopped, and I heard non-descript whispers before the door began to crack open.  We had to remember that we were dealing with professionals, only they probably hadn’t encountered anyone like us before.

The door opened more, and I could see the muzzle of a gun poke through.  I crouched low behind a desk out of si
ght with a knife in my hand.  I had already scored a piece of rope, and one cut was all that was needed to start my plan into action.  The door swung open fully, and I could see half of a black clad pirate’s body peering into the room.  He entered cautiously in a crouched position and moved slowly as he approached the line I had put onto the floor.  A second man appeared behind him and followed in the same manner.  The first pirate scanned the room, but the light was too faint for his eyes to adjust.  He squinted to see through the dark and unwittingly stepped closer to the line.

With a quick burst I cut through the
rope next to me.  The buzz of moving rope filled the room, and the pirate stopped in his tracks.  The pirate hadn’t noticed he had walked into a trap.  He had stepped into a ring of rope that zipped together, wrenching his feet from out under him.  The pirate flew forward as a crash occurred behind me from ballast that fell from the ceiling.  He smacked his head against the desk in front of us.  The pirate was half upside down and semi-conscious from the impact.  The pirate had just been trapped in a simple snare. 

The second pirate was caught off guard from his colleague flying away from him. He was unable to see what was going on and moved forward.  The second pirate passed the line I had put on the floor, and from behind the desk
, Galveston unloaded a torrent of chemicals from the extinguisher on top of him.  He was disoriented enough for me to cut the next line, where the same thing happened.  The pirate flew forward with his legs bound and smacked the desk in the same way as the first.  The room was now filled with the grunting moans of the now incapacitated men as Galveston continued to unload with the extinguisher, filling the room in white.

I leapt from behind the desk and came face to face with our adversaries.  The men were struggling to raise their guns.  I immediately flew down on top of the first man and pummeled him on the head and face until I was able to wrench the gun from his hands.  I looked over and
Galveston had already done the same to the second man, who now lay unconscious.  The men were half off the ground with the ropes attached securely around their ankles.

I had made five different snares, a handy trick I had learned from my days taking survival training a year or so before.  They had proved vastly successful.

Galveston ran toward the door and positioned himself at the side.  We had two down, but the third was still missing.

“
He probably went to the generator shed,” Galveston announced, breathing hard.  “Tie those two up and gag them; I’m going to get that third guy.”  He disappeared to the back of the building.

I ran back to the men who were
beginning to wake up, but still weary from the excitement.  I tied their hands and used duct tape to cover their mouths.  I grabbed the assault rifle and ran to the door, awaiting the third man if he returned before Galveston could get to him.

A faint rumble and yelling emanated from the back room of the building,
and I saw Galveston dragging a man through the hall and into the room.

“
I ran up right on top of him outside the generator shed,” Galveston gasped.  “Luckily he didn’t have time to get his gun up.”  He threw the pirate toward the others and sat on him as I bound his feet and hands.  “Two down, one to go.”

“
How do we get that guy up here?”

“
They have to have a radio,” Galveston said as he searched through the subdued pirates’ pockets.  They glared in disgust as he found a small walkie-talkie in the pocket of one of the men.

Galveston
glared back at the pirate and cocked his handgun.

“
Understand English?” he asked, and the pirate nodded his head.  “You are going to get that man from the beach up here—in English,” Galveston ordered.  “If you don’t do as I say I will shoot you in the head, and I will do the same to your partners.  Do you understand?”  The pirate nodded again as his eyes grew wide from the threat.

I recoiled from the statement, but I knew
Galveston was bluffing.  He would never try to assassinate these men.  He would hurt them badly if they tried anything funny, however.

Galveston
pulled out the gag from the pirate’s mouth, keyed the radio for him, and motioned for him to talk.  The pirate stammered at first and had a thick French accent.

“
Marsin, come up here, ve need jou,” he said in a monotone voice.

“
Que?” the voice responded.

“
Marsin, up here now!” the voice ordered again as the man began to grow worried about the gun at his temple.

“
Oui,” the voice responded.

We wrestled the men behind a desk, out of sight, and took up position at either side of the door.  Within minutes we heard footsteps outside as the last pirate clumsily entered.  There was probably a reason he was left at the boat. 
Marsin was only in the door by a step when Galveston hit him over the head with the butt of his gun.  He crumpled quickly to the floor.  We tied him up and placed him next to the other men, who now sat quietly with a look of horror on their faces.

“
Now for the unenviable task of getting their clothes,” I announced.

“
This guy looks about your size,” Galveston fired back, pointing at a shorter man.

I rolled my eyes as we set about to disrobe the men
‘s outer garments.  Galveston kept his gun trained at the men as I began the delicate task of unbinding the pirate’s hands and feet so I could get their clothes off.

“
Pants, parkas, hats, and shoes, that’s about all we’ll need,” Galveston said to me as I pulled off the clothes one item at a time, until we each had a full set.

I put on one of the pirate
‘s outerwear, which was a little too big, but it would have to do. 

Galveston
returned to our talking pirate.

“
Call your ship and tell them you found one man, and you are returning for medical supplies since you partner has been injured.  And remember nothing funny, or I shoot you instantly,” Galveston gave the man the necessary threats before he made the call. 

The pirate made the statement perfectly, as
Galveston gazed at him with the gun pointing at his head.  We took the radios and gathered the men’s guns.  I made sure the pirates were secured, and placed some objects I had found laying around the adjacent rooms in my backpack.  As we left, I noticed a flare gun box attached to the wall and indicated to Galveston that I had a new idea for the next part of our plan.  I jammed the front door as we left, just in case the pirates decided they would try to crawl out. 

As we left the building
, I followed Galveston down the hill to the beach and the lonely boat that would take us to the
Trusian
.  We had to get onto that ship, and at this point, we had a pretty sketchy plan to do it.

-Chapter 41-

Galveston and I gathered our senses and calmed our nerves as we strolled to the boat that sat wedged against the rocks on the beach.  I looked out over the water toward the
Trusian
and noticed a few pirates gathering at the stern of the ship.

“
Pull that hat down low and the collar of your parka up,” Galveston instructed as we got in the boat.  I did as he said and strategically placed the clothing in front of my face.

I sat near the bow of the boat with my back to the ship as
Galveston pushed us away from shore and started the motor.  The engine whirled to life, and we cleared the rocky beach.  I hoped the pirates hadn’t noticed Galveston carrying a large container filled with gasoline into the boat and placing it next to the engine.  The fuel was supposed to be for the portable backup generators, but we had another purpose for it.  The diesel fuel didn’t have quite the right amount of burn that we were looking for, but the pirates wouldn’t notice the difference.

Galveston
turned the boat toward the
Trusian
and moved the throttle open, pushing us through the now still water of the bay.  As we neared the huge vessel, Galveston opened the lid to the fuel canister, and I readied the flares I had acquired in the building.  Galveston put his head down and drove the boat past the stern to the starboard side of the ship, causing the pirates to look at each other in confusion.  As we neared the steel hull out of eyesight from the men on the stern, Galveston reached down and propped the canister on the side of the boat, spilling its contents into the water.  I felt bad for a second that we were damaging the ecosystem, but soon we would clean it up.

Galveston
turned the boat sharply, running it toward the stern, and then back to the other side.  The pirates began to wave wildly from the deck of the ship, since we had missed our point to board.  As we rounded to the port side, Galveston gave me a nod.  I stood up, cocked the first flare into place in the gun, and pulled the trigger as I pointed it toward the gas stream we had left behind.

The red hot flare hit the fumes of the gas on the water
‘s surface, causing it to burst into flames.  I reloaded and fired another volley into the stream of fuel, and it had the same effect.  Almost immediately the stream grew from a few fires to a wall of white smoke that rose up toward the men on the deck and shadowed our true position. 

Galveston
whipped the boat back around to the other side of the ship, as the pirates looked on in dismay at the burning fuel and smoke on the surface of the water.  We neared a long wooden ladder that led to the deck of the ship, and I grabbed it as we went by, almost jerking my arms out of their sockets as I stopped the boat.  I slung the assault rifle and backpack over my shoulder and scrambled up the wooden ladder.  Galveston followed closely on my heels.  I stopped only long enough to shoot a flare at the small boat, and it landed near the midsection.  The boat began to burst into flames as the heat from the flare hit the fuel we had sprinkled inside it.

The white smoke plumed toward the sky, and thanks to a generous bit of wind, began to waft over the deck, hiding us from view.  I heard the yells of the pirates as they
tried to grapple with the chaos and what had just transpired on the ocean below.

It was a slow climb up the wooden ladder, and it swayed with every mo
vement we took.  I finally pulled myself onto the steel deck of the ship and helped Galveston the rest of the way.  Thankfully the pirates were down farther on the deck, still trying to figure out where we had gone.  I ran toward the nearest set of large containers and moved out of sight as the pirates moved toward our position.  Galveston reached me just as a marauder made it to the ladder we had just climbed.  Galveston then pushed me farther between the piles of containers.

“
We have to get into the superstructure,” Galveston whispered.

“
This way,” I motioned, and I began a crouched run back into the open area of the deck toward the giant superstructure that housed the bridge and living quarters.

I realized there had been no random gunfire at the boat or where the pirates thought we were.  They must have been confused from our clothing and quickness in setting the water ablaze.  The pirates thought we were one of their own, because who else
could possibly be on this island.  Their confidence bought us the right amount of time to make our entry onto the ship.

I walked cautiously toward a water tight door at the bottom of the superstructure and reached for the handle.

“Get to the side,” Galveston ordered as he raised his gun.

I opened the door slightly to give
Galveston a look.  The opening led to a stairwell up to the other decks.  Galveston proceeded slowly and kept his fingers poised over the trigger of the gun as he walked up the stairs.  I followed facing backward, to ensure we wouldn’t be surprised from behind, pointing my gun in that direction.

As we reached the next deck I could hear the faint sounds of men talking furiously over a radio.  News of the events on the ship had spread, and the pirates were beginning to realize something was amiss.  They were now figuring out how to find us. 
Galveston peered around the corner and saw two pirates talking into their radios, oblivious to our position.

I tugged on Galveston
‘s parka.  “I have an idea,” and showed him a tub of bacon grease from my bag.  I had procured it from the meteorological station.

“
You just thought of everything,” he beamed as I began to rub the stairway, rails, and landing with the grease, until the entire area smelled of cooked bacon.

“
Ready?” Galveston inquired as he knelt down.

“
Go for it.”

Galveston
leaned his head around the corner and yelled, “Hey, freeze!”  Galveston allowed the pirates to see him, and before they could raise their guns, he disappeared with me back down the stairway.

I heard the rustle of steps as the pirates began to run toward our position, but when they tried to slow down, the bacon grease was waiting.  The first man slid violently as his feet gave way from the absence of friction, and he began to careen down the stairs toward us.  The second man, seeing the first man
‘s folly, slowed before hitting the grease, but as he tried to descend the stairs toward the other man he lost his footing.

Galveston
raised his gun and pointed it at the man who was trying to maintain his balance.  The pirate saw the gun aimed at him and tried to respond, but couldn’t hold his balance on the grease and raise his gun at the same time.  The man slipped back, smacking his head against the steel stairs and toppled down them until he ended up on top of the first man, right at our feet.  The men groaned in pain from the fall, and we pounced on them.  I grabbed the first man and began to bind his hands, feet, and mouth with duct tape from my backpack.  Galveston seized the second man and turned him over so I could tie him up as well.  When we were satisfied they were out of commission, we took their weapons and radios and slid the pirates to a small room at the base of the stairs with the aid of the excess bacon grease on their bodies. 

We shoved them into the room in a questionable position and closed the door.  I pulled the extra guns onto my shoulder, and we nimbly made our way up the stairs, avoiding the remaining grease lining the stairwell.

A total of six pirates had been subdued, but we had no idea how many more there were.  There were at least three more remaining on the deck, and I was running out of tricks in my bag.

“
We need to find the crew,” Galveston said. 

We arrived on the second deck which had a long hallway and storage compartments.

“Let’s check these rooms and see if the crew is in them.”

“
Gotcha.”

Galveston
and I split up momentarily and checked each room on the deck carefully.  Most were storage areas, and my mind raced on how impossible it was going to be to find the crew on a ship this enormous.

The spread of panic was racing through the ship as we heard the desperate calls over a radio we took from the pirates.  There was confusion in the ranks and confusion was just what we wanted.  The element of surprise was still on our side, and we needed to act quickly before they could regroup.  The search through the remaining rooms came up empty.  I knew we would have to move to the next deck.

“We have to buy some more time to find the crew,” I said to Galveston as we met up at the next stairwell.  “Let’s try calling them.”

“
I’ll try it,” Galveston responded. 

He pulled up the radio and in his worst French accent to date, began to yell incoherently into it. 
“Hold zit,” he screamed, banging the gun against the steel frame.  “Zhey are on ze deck, port side, moving to ze bow,” he yelled again.  And then, without warning, raised his gun and fired it down the hall.

I jumped from the reverberation
on the walls and the pure cacophony of noise of the gunshot.  It caused my ears to ring momentarily.

“
Help, si vous pleis, ve are pinned.  Need men to ze bow!”  Galveston smiled and let out another gunshot before he took his finger off the transmit button.

“
What the hell?” I exclaimed loudly, not even able to hear my own words.

“
We have the time we need,” he replied back loudly.

If I wasn
‘t impressed with his creativity, I would have flattened him for not warning me, but the idea produced the desired effect.  The pirates were more confused than ever. 

Galveston
raced up the next stairway which led to the living quarters.  The hallway was quiet, and as on the previous deck, we began a search of each room.  In the middle of the hall I noticed a room with a padlock attached to the door.

“
Galveston!” I whispered loudly, motioning him over.

Galveston
looked the lock over and took the butt of the assault rifle and whacked the lock from the top a few times, loosening its position until it fell off.  I cracked the door open as Galveston kept the rifle trained on whatever we would find inside.  As the door opened wider, I could barely make out a group of men at the back of the small room, huddled together in the dark.  The men in the room cringed from the burst of light from the outside and peered with apprehension as we moved in.

“
Are you the crew of the
Trusian
,” I asked as they looked at me dumbfounded.  I realized it must have been a stupid question to them.  They were standing together on the very ship I was talking about.

One of the men piped up.
“Yes, sir.  We are the crew.  Are you here to rescue us?”

The posed question seemed as stupid as mine.  Why else would we be here, t
o sell Girl Scout cookies?  But I realized these men had gone through quite an ordeal.

“
Yes,” I answered.  “Who is in charge?”

“
Our chief mate is somewhere on the ship,” a small Taiwanese man answered.  “My name is Pi.  I am the second officer on the
Trusian
.”

“
Do you know how to use this?” Galveston asked, pointing to one of the guns we took from the pirates. 

“
I’ve had some training,” Pi answered.

That was all
Galveston needed to know. 

“
We need to capture all the pirates.  Who else knows how to use one of these,” he said, holding up another assault rifle.

A man from the back of the room raised his hand. 
“I’m a hunter.  I can use it.”

Galveston
threw him the remaining gun.

“
Does anyone know how many pirates are aboard?”  I asked the group of men collectively.

“
We think ten or twelve, but they wear masks.  They don’t come in much,” Pi answered quickly.

“
We’ve taken down six, but we have to move before the other pirates find them.  Here’s what we’re going to do.”  Galveston knelt down between the men and laid out the plan on the floor.

The crew knew the ship well and could stay concealed.  We didn
‘t want to get them injured, so the plan consisted more of staying concealed, followed by spreading havoc.  The men would split into two groups and attempt to move the pirates toward the stern of the ship where there were fewer containers.  This offered a better chance of corralling them in one place. 

“
Where do you think the chief mate and captain are?”  Galveston asked.

“
Not sure,” Pi answered.  “Dimitri Petsoro is our Chief Mate.  He was shot in the leg during the boarding by the pirates.”

Galveston
flashed me a look.  We weren’t sure how to interpret Pi’s answer.  We still didn’t know to what degree Petsoro was involved, and he could have been faking a leg injury.

“
Are you positive he has a leg wound?”

“
Oh, yes, I treated it myself,” Pi answered assuredly.  “His cabin is on the upper deck near the captain’s.  We heard that they killed the captain.”