John Avery - Black Cobra

She was going to see her boyfriend tonight. They had been dating for two years now, and she had a strong feeling that tonight would be the night he would ask for her hand in marriage.

She set the brush aside and lifted her breasts a little before letting them bounce, thinking, Thank you my twin friends. You’ve served me well .

There was a knock on her door, which she answered after quickly donning her robe.

“Yes, Father?” she said.

“There is something I need to discuss with you,” Vtorak Pankov said.

Ekatarina glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “But I was just getting ready to go see Boris.”

“Please, sit down,” Pankov insisted.

Ekatarina hesitated and then took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Pankov pulled up a chair. “Ekatarina, my dear,” he said. “Now that you are out of high school, you need to see the world.”

She looked at her father. I know that, she thought. She was hoping to be married soon, and seeing the world was her plan.

“You and I are going to America for a while,” Pankov said.

“ What? ” Ekatarina cried, incredulous. “Where?”

“California,” he said. “San Diego to be precise.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“We leave in three weeks.”

Ekatarina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re just doing this because you don’t like Boris!” she cried. “You know we plan to marry soon, and now you want to break us apart!”

“When my business there is finished we will return,” Pankov said. “If Boris loves you as much as you think he does, he will wait for you.”

Ekatarina grabbed her hair as if to tear it out in frustration. “How long?” she asked quickly. “How long will we be in America?”

Pankov knew he would not be coming back. But as for his daughter, it depended, of course, upon how the U.S. responded to the assassination.

“A few days, maybe a few weeks,” he said. “If things go as planned.”

“You’re lying,” Ekatarina said. “No one from Russia ever just visits the United States. You plan to immigrate and keep me there forever! ” She rolled over onto the bed and buried her face in her pillow, sobbing.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Pankov said calmly. “But this matter is of the utmost importance to our country. Some day you will realize that, and perhaps then you will forgive me. I will give you an exact departure date when I have one.”

Then he went out.

For Jason and his crew, the first few days of the voyage had run like fine clockwork. Refueling and resupply were easy, and the towns, restaurants, and bars they visited along the way were fantastic. Even Brandy had begun to relax, thinking maybe the trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

At around 4:00 a.m., Tuesday, just before sunrise, 10 miles off the coast of Costa Rica, Aaron awoke to a strange, low buzz coming from somewhere on the water. He grabbed a pair of high-powered binoculars out of a cabinet and went to the window.

In the predawn light he could just make out what appeared to be four men in a small outboard approaching the Cayman Jewel at high speed, and as they drew nearer it was clear that they were carrying rifles. Jason had told Aaron what to watch out for, and there was little doubt that he was about to encounter his first pirates.

He jumped into some clothes and ran to the master cabin to alert Jason.

“How far out?” Jason said, pulling on his pants.

“About a mile,” Aaron said.

“Go to the midships cabin and get my sniper rifle. There’s an assault rifle as well… in the large drawer under the bed. Hurry!”

Aaron ran to the cabin and retrieved the rifles, along with a box of ammo for each.

He returned with the guns, and Jason took the AWSM. Aaron slid a magazine into the well of the assault rifle and clicked it home. Then he slapped it hard and gave it a tug to make sure it was seated.

“Looks like you know how to handle a rifle,” Jason said, surprised.

“Actually, I do,” Aaron said.

Jason finished assembling his rifle, listening for the approaching boat. “Time to rock, my friend,” he said.

From up on deck they could clearly see the four men speeding toward them in their small outboard, and Aaron had been correct: they had guns.

“They’re the real thing, all right,” Jason said. “Friendlies would have signaled their intentions by now. These guys would as soon slit your throat as look at you.”

Sweat moistened Aaron’s palms.

The two positioned themselves and readied their rifles.

“I’ll take out the one on the tiller,” Jason said. “Hopefully that will discourage them. If they keep coming, I may need your help.”

Aaron had sworn to himself that as long as he lived he would never touch a rifle in anger again. “Do we really have to shoot them?” he asked.

Suddenly they saw muzzle flashes and several bullets zinged by followed by the sound of gunfire.

“Holy shit ,” Aaron said, ducking. “I guess that answers my question.” Better them than us , he thought miserably.

Jason put his eye to the scope and tracked his target. The boat bounded on the water making it a difficult shot. He controlled his breathing and slowly squeezed the trigger.

POP!

The man flipped backward over the outboard and the boat veered hard left. One of the remaining three quickly took the tiller, but instead of turning about and running, he cranked the throttle and keep right on coming. The other two men continued to fire off round after round.

Jason saw no choice but to waste all three of them, and he knew that if he hit the driver last this time, the boat would stay on course a fraction longer, giving both of them easier shots.

“You take the two on the right,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Aaron held his breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The little boat seemed huge now, as muzzles flashed and bullets zipped by, tearing into the fiberglass and teak trim mere inches from his and Jason’s heads.

“Steady,” Jason said, taking aim again. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”

Aaron sighted in on his targets, and through the scope he could see that the man nearest him had a large tattoo covering most of his face. He breathed deeply and between heartbeats squeezed the trigger.

POPOPOPOP!

The two men on the right side of the boat cartwheeled into the water just as Jason put a bullet between the eyes of their friend. The empty boat’s motor stalled and it drifted to a stop, leaving nothing but an eerie silence.

“Well done,” Jason said, raising a high-five.

Aaron was in shock, and hardly in the mood to celebrate, but he managed to five Jason back. “Oh my God,” he said, still buzzing with adrenaline. “I thought they’d never quit!” He ran his hand through his long hair, and then touched his finger to one of several bullet holes within easy reach.

“Just another night in the Caribbean,” Jason said.

“Uh — yeah,” Aaron said, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked out across the water to make sure the pirates were truly gone. “Will there be more?”

“Most likely,” Jason said. “But we’re ready for them, right?” He patted the stock of his rifle.

“Right…” Aaron said, feigning confidence. Maybe this trip wasn’t such a good idea after all , he thought.

He found it a little unnerving that Jason was so comfortable using his sniper rifle to kill human beings, and suddenly he couldn’t wait till they made it to San Diego.