JD launched the drone again as the sky rumbled. The craft ascended toward the heavens, fighting the wind. I huddled around the display, watching the IR feed.
“We’ve got a bogie inbound,” Jack said as a white silhouette raced across the water, heading toward us. “Small craft incoming.” Another ship floated on the horizon, beyond what we could see at sea level. “Looks like a luxury yacht.”
The kidnappers had surely turned off the ship’s AIS. No need to broadcast your position when doing nefarious things.
JD and I prepared to make contact with the scumbags.
The Raptor rolled with the swells, and the rain began to come down. Light at first, then hard and heavy.
Jack took a position at the port gunwale, shouldering his rifle.
With IR optics, I watched the boat approach. “Looks like three on board. Two thugs and one hostage.”
They had a black bag over the hostage’s head.
The patter of rotor blades drew near, coming from the east. It wasn’t Tango One.
46
Soon, a black helicopter was overhead. It circled the boat, the cargo door opened, and a guy with a machine gun was ready to spew bullets in our direction.
I began to think this was a bad idea.
The incoming boat drew near and went off throttle. It slumped into the swells and drifted to our port side.
Both JD and I kept our rifles aimed at the perps. With the motion of the ocean, even the best shot would have a hard time under these conditions.
The rain pelted down, and the choppy seas increased.
One of the thugs had a gun to the hostage’s head. With a black bag over his melon, it could have been anybody.
The perp shouted, "Hand over the girl, and we’ll let Sebastian go!"
"I need to see the hostage first," I shouted back over the wind and rain.
The helicopter still circled above.
It was a tense moment.
The thug pulled the black bag from Sebastian's head, revealing he was even more battered and bruised. Sebastian looked beyond the brink—tired, frail, and mentally exhausted. He’d been in captivity for roughly 24 hours and looked like he had lost a little weight already. He was probably dehydrated.
"Transfer the girl, and everybody goes home happy," the thug said again.
They both wore dark sunglasses and surgical masks over their faces to hide their identities.
The boat pilot sat at the helm station while his comrade stood on the deck, holding his gun to Sebastian's head. It was hard to maintain balance in the rolling seas.
Sebastian put a shoulder into him as the deck rolled.
The perp stumbled toward the gunwale, off balance. His pistol was now aimed skyward as he flailed his arms, trying to balance himself.
I didn't hesitate. My finger squeezed the trigger, and the rifle hammered my shoulder. Two bullets zipped across the water and pelted the scumbag in the chest.
Crimson erupted.
The goon tumbled over the gunwale and splashed into the water.
In a flash, I readjusted my aim and took out the boat pilot as he drew his weapon.
