Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

“What do we do with him now?” Jacob asked. Cadee and Nicole held each other and shivered, even though the night was very warm. Tears and quiet moaning came from the women as they clutched each other in mutual comfort.

“He goes over the side,” Dan said without a bit of indecision in his voice.

“He’ll drown,” Jacob protested.

“He might,” Dan agreed, “if the sharks don’t eat him first. But that’s exactly what he gets for taking us hostage, stealing our money, threatening to kill us all, and just a minute ago threatening to kill your mother. If he drowns, so be it. Come on and give me a hand.”

With that, Dan and Jacob hoisted de la Vega’s limp body and dragged it to the edge of the cockpit, where they could toss him over the side.

Just then, a weak voice spoke with a slurr, “Pleash doan kill me. I sorry.” De la Vega raised his head and stared with glassy eyes into Dan’s face. “Por favor.”

“Dang,” Dan cursed beneath his breath. Then to Jacob he said, “Son, turn the boat around. We’ll take him back close enough that he can crawl ashore.”

“Dad, a man can drown in six inches of water. Let’s take him back, toss him onto the dock and then leave.”

“Thash a goo idea.” Vega grinned a senseless and mostly toothless grin. “I sorry, you know,” his head bobbed up and down.

A few minutes later, the catamaran eased silently up against the ageing wooden pilings of the decrepit dock and Dan and Jacob muscled the mostly limp body of the old man over the rail and onto the planks. Juan Baptista de la Vega no sooner hit the dock than he bounced to his feet and started yelling for his men to come running.

“Quick, you low down dogs, they are getting away. Come quickly.”

In the distance, the door of the larger building banged open and yellow light poured out. Three men came stumbling as fast as their drunken legs could carry them, trying as they ran to pull up their pants, put on shoes, and take another swig on a tall bottle.

“Quick,” Dan said to Jacob, “get her turned around and off the dock. I’ll try to stop them,” and he jumped over the rail to face de la Vega. “You are a lying rascal,” Dan accused the old man. “We should have thrown you over.”

“Yes, I am a lying rascal, but you are a fool, senor. You have been a fool twice, and now you will die this night, and so will your children. And after I have finished with your lovely wife, she will join you. I will still have your money and this fine sailing vessel and all the treasure that is in that container over there.” He exhaled a hearty laugh as he motioned toward his barge.

The three men were running and stumbling, and two more were coming out of the building. Dan knew he didn’t have much time. “Get going, son,” he shouted to Jacob. And then he threw a punch that landed squarely on the old man’s jaw. Juan Baptista de la Vega had a very hard jaw, and Dan’s fist felt pain all the way to the wrist, but the old man’s knees buckled and he went down.

Baptista hit the dock hard, but he rolled and came back up quickly, grappled Dan at the knees and tackled him. The two men rolled on the rough planks of the dock, and Vega delivered two punishing blows to Dan’s rib cage. Everything went momentarily black as Dan lost his wind, but in the edges of his consciousness he heard the low rumble of a Westerbeke diesel and he knew Jacob could get the family safely away. But for some reason, the boat was not moving.

“Go Jacob, take off, now!” Dan yelled the order.

“No dad, I’m not leaving you,” Jacob protested.

Dan scrambled to his feet, being quicker and more nimble than Vega. He looked hard at his son, caught his eye and gave a signal with his hand. Jacob responded with a nod and a hand signal of his own, then thrust the throttle forward and the catamaran moved away into the dark.

Just then, the three other men surrounded Dan, grabbed him by the arms and threw him hard on the dock. One of them stepped on the back of Dan’s neck, and cursed. He recognized the voice of Ruiz. “You stupid idiot. You ain’t goin no place but to perdition.” Then he turned to de la Vega, “Should we go after ‘em, boss?”

Juan Baptista de la Vega got to his feet, straightened his back, rubbed his jaw. “Naw. We ain’t none of us in condition to go out there tonight. We’ll go get ’em in the morning. I can outrun ’em with my fast new boat. Let’s just get this gringo back to the hut. Only this time, he ain’t gettin away again, you hear?”

“Yeah, boss,” Ruiz agreed.

De la Vega wobbled on uncertain feet. “I came down to the boat to get away from all that drunken bellering at the house. Then, all of a sudden, there’s the woman. She walked in, right past me, ’cause I was passed out in the aft cabin. But when the motor started, I thought I’d better get up and see what was happening.” The old man stared at Ruiz. “I thought I left you to guard the man and his family.” His tone sounded accusatory.

“Right, boss,” Ruiz grinned at the old man. “But I tricked him into telling me what was in the container and how to break in. I made him think I was going to cut you out and take over.”

De la Vega closed one eye and stared hard at Ruiz with the other. “But you would never do that, right?”

“Right, boss.”

“And then what, you just let the bunch of ’em go?”

“Naw, I gotta admit that he tricked me while I was busy with the lock.

“Well lock him up tight this time,” the old man slurred. “I’m going to bed.”

Dan watched in amazement as Juan Baptista de la Vega stumbled a crooked line down the dock and into the shadows. “How can he fight so well when he’s so drunk?” he asked Ruiz.

“He’s old and dangerous. He’s got a lot of years of experience, and somehow being drunk doesn’t slow him down when it comes to fighting.” Then Ruiz shoved Dan along the dock. “You get back in your cell, mister. You dang near got me killed here tonight, listening to your stuff about me becoming the boss.”

As they walked down the dock, two other men stepped in to surround Dan. “The boss said we need to stay out here with you.”

“What!” Ruiz protested, “He don’t trust me?”

“We’re just doing what we’re told,” one of the men said.

“That’s a fine thing!” Ruiz spit. “He figures it takes three of us to watch one prisoner?”

Knowing the answer before he asked, Dan put the question to Ruiz in front of the other men, “So, did you see what was inside?”

“Didn’t have time, what with all the ruckus down at your boat.”

“What’s he talking about?” one of the others slurred. “What did you see where?”

They arrived at the hut, and Ruiz shoved Dan through the door and slammed it, then set the lock. “It ain’t nothin’,” Ruiz dodged the question. “Just sit down and help me guard this guy. You two don’t look too good.”

Dan pressed his ear to the door and listened as the men began to argue. “Maybe we better listen to Ruiz,” one of them said after a while. “It’s the best chance we’ll ever have to make it big.”

“I don’t know, Pacheco,” the third man said. “I don’t know about killing the boss.”

“Well, if we don’t kill him,” Pacheco said, “he’ll come after us and kill us. For his cut of eleven million dollars he’ll sure do that. And this world won’t be big enough to hide in.”

“Well, I never did like him,” the first voice answered. “And besides, here we sit guarding this stupid gringo, and they’re all in there sleeping like babies, or maybe drinking more rum.” Then, in a low voice the man growled, “I say let’s kill ’em all and take the money and run.”