Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

“How come?”

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly, “but something doesn’t feel right. Just give me some time to check things out. I’d be more comfortable if you were in your cabin.” He winked at her.

She winked back. “Okay, daddy,” as she disappeared through the cabin door.

Jacob laid the fenders over the side on his way forward to handle the bow line, and Nicole had the stern line in hand as Dan maneuvered the boat into a cushioned landing against the wooden dock. Four men spaced themselves out along the pier, and two of them took the dock lines. The other two held shotguns, and they were pointed directly at Jacob and Nicole.

Juan Baptista de la Vegas leapt from the barge and strode down the length of the dock toward the catamaran, looking for all the world like a man half his age. With a glowering face he yelled at Dan, “Let me introduce my family.” Then he roared with a gutteral laugh, whirled around and threw his hands in the air as if to accept an applause, and all his men laughed with him.

“What’s going on?” Nicole whispered.

“I’m not sure,” Dan said, “but I don’t think de la Vega is the grandfather he said he was. He’s a fraud. We’ve been suckered.”

Suddenly, the old man did not appear to be so old. His bent back was straight and strong as a tree, and his crippled legs carried him easily as he marched proudly up and down the wooden dock accepting the backslaps of his men. With machetes raised, half a dozen men gave a shout.

“Julio,” de la Vega yelled into the night, “Tiago, bring the beer. It is time for celebration.”

A moment later, out of the darkness, a man trotted onto the torch-lit dock, carrying an old beat-up picnic cooler. “Set it down there,” de la Vega ordered, and the man did as he was told. “The first and the coldest one for me,” de la Vega shouted, looking around at his men, “unless there is anyone here who wants it some other way.”

All the voices went silent as the old man stared from man to man. “No complaints? Then I will have the first and the coldest.” He reached into the box and pulled out two bottles of beer, twisted off the cap from one and raised it to his lips. Without pausing to take a breath, he drained the bottle, sucked out the last of the brew, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smashed the bottle against the rocks at the edge of the dock. As if he had accomplished a great feat, he threw his hands into the air, and a cheer went up from the men. He turned to Dan and held out the other bottle, then snatched it back. “The best plunder so far was the yacht with the generator and ice-maker.”

Dan looked around. “I don’t see a yacht.”

“It is now in Nicaragua, wearing a new name.”

Out of the crowd, one voice rose above the rest. “What have you brought us tonight, boss?”

“It is in there,” de la Vega pointed at the container, “and it is in here,” he pulled a wad of $20 bills out of his pocket and waved it in the air. The men erupted in a wild cheer, but he stopped them with a raise of his hand. “That is not all.” He stepped aboard the catamaran, grabbed Nicole by the hair and yanked her head back. She screamed and Dan lunged toward de la Vega, but a bearded giant of a man jumped into the cockpit and laid the sharp edge of a machete to his throat. “Do not be so stupid,” de la Vega spit at Dan and glared at him with icy eyes. Then he reached a grubby hand into Nicole’s blouse, smiled wickedly and pulled out the other half of the bills that she had hidden there.

“You leave my mom and dad alone,” Jacob screamed from the bow, but the man with the shotgun stepped in close and with a powerful thrust drove the barrel into Jacob’s stomach. The staggering blow knocked the breath out of him and he collapsed in a heap on the deck.

The old man shoved Nicole to one side and she stumbled into the far corner of the cockpit. The crowd exploded in a cheer worthy of a bullfight, as de la Vega waved both hands full of $20 bills. Like famished vultures, the men moved in, clawing over each other, trying to be the first to grab some of the money.

“Easy there men. Back up,” Vega yelled, pocketing the money so he could pull a pistol from his belt and fire a round into the air. The men stopped where they stood and he waved the gun at them. “Don’t make me shoot any of you. You know how I don’t like being crowded.” Then he laughed as he put the gun back in his waistband, and slowly the men began to laugh with him.

“That was a good joke, boss,” one yelled.

De la Vega shouted above the uproar, “You will each get a share of this, and you will each get a share of what is in the freight box.”

“What’s in there, boss?” one of the men asked.

“I don’t know. We will find out soon. But whatever it is, it’s ours now,” de la Vega said. “Ruiz and Javier,” he ordered the ones holding weapons on Jacob and Dan, “take these people and lock them away until I decide what to do with them. Juanico,” he called to a third man, “there’s a little girl inside. Get her. The boy, I think we can sell him to the Colombian cartel to work as a drug mule. I am sure we can get a good price for the girl in Aruba. The woman…” his rotted teeth showed as his lips spread wide, “…I have my own plans, for her. And the man, tomorrow we can turn him out on the island and hunt him for sport. Lock the kids in one hut and the parents in the other.” He motioned toward a pair of wooden sheds just beyond the trees in the clearing toward the larger buildings.

Nicole struggled as a man with a nasty scar across his face pulled her arms behind her back and bound her wrists with a rough rope. “Dan,” she yelled, “do something!”

“Yes, Dan, do something,” the bearded man named Ruiz held the machete to Dan’s throat, and showed his yellow teeth. His breath smelled like the bottom of a garbage disposal as he pressed his face in close and sneered, “I beg you to do something. I haven’t killed anybody yet today, so go ahead and do something so I can be happy tonight.”

Dan choked on the foul breath. “I’m sorry,” he apologized to Nicole. “There’s nothing I can do.”

The taste of acid rose in his throat and he felt weak and sick inside as Javier and Juanico pulled his children off the boat. Cadee cried so hard she could hardly stand up to walk, so Juanico grabbed her by one arm and dragged her over the rough wood of the dock. Jacob flashed a defiant look and jerked back and forth as he was led away.

“Be strong, Jake,” Dan called out. “Comfort your sister.” Then the kids were led away into the shadows. Nicole broke into tears and Dan’s heart ached as he helplessly listened to Nicole’s sobs and Cadee screaming in pain and fear in the distance.

Juan Baptista de la Vega stood before Dan and Nicole, a proud look on his face. “Give me the combination to your safe. You will have no need for the money. There is no way for you to get off this island, and there is no point in refusing my demands.”

Dan looked the old man in the eyes. “Why should we make it easy for you? You make it sound hopeless for us, so why should we cooperate?”

“That is a good question, senor. You are looking for incentive, are you? As you have seen, I am in charge here, and I can command my men to do as I please. For example, I can command that your little girl be released unharmed on Isla de la Juventude, a small island that belongs to Cuba. There she will be cared for and adopted into Cuban society by people I know. Or, I can sell her into the white slavery trade on Aruba and she will grow up giving pleasure to whoever will pay. Or I could simply tell my men to do with her as they wish.” He stopped in front of Nicole, looked her in the eyes and spoke in a slow, evil voice. “Some of my men are not… how should I say it… they are not normal, when it comes to children. I assure you that what they wish to do to a little girl like her is not a pretty sight. But I leave it to you. It is your choice.”