We were as good as dead anyway, and Felipe knew that. He just didn’t want to deal with it.
Jack said to him, “The captain ordered you below.”
Felipe looked at him as though crazy was contagious. Felipe took a deep breath, stepped back from Jack, and pulled my .38 Smith & Wesson from under his shirt. “Turn this boat south.”
I reminded him, “You promised to take orders.”
“Now! Or I’ll—”
Unfortunately, Sara came into the cabin, looked at Felipe, and saw the gun. “Felipe! What is going on—?”
“Looks like a mutiny.” I suggested, “Take him below before I get pissed off.”
Felipe explained to Sara, “He’s going to get us killed.”
Sara looked at me, then back at Felipe. She didn’t know how I was going to get everyone killed, or what the debate was about, but she stepped past Felipe and stood between me and her boyfriend with the gun.
Well, I’m not comfortable hiding behind a woman, especially when I had a Glock in my belt and the woman was now in my line of fire. I said to Jack, “Take his gun and escort him below.”
Felipe stepped back from Jack and descended a few steps into the lower cabin. “Stay where you are.”
Jack made like he didn’t hear him and put his hand out. “Give it.”
Felipe realized he was outnumbered by crazies, but before he retreated, he had some advice for my crew. “Make him tell you what he’s doing. And make him stop. Or we’re all dead.”
Dead anyway. Once you understood that, you were left with the one move—attack—that would either keep you alive or let you go out in a blaze of glory. Sara had said she would die before she was captured, and I was taking her at her word.
Felipe retreated below, still armed, but not dangerous. For now.
Jack offered to go and disarm him, but I said, “Just keep an eye on him. We’ll need him if we get into a shoot-out.”
Sara had no comment on that, but she was very interested in what I was doing that would get everyone killed.
I pointed to the radar screen and explained, “The faster boat, the Stenka that has the cannons, would intercept us quickly if we headed north at an angle away from him. But if we head directly away from him, he has a lot of catching up to do.”
She looked at the screen and nodded, but then noticed the other blip heading directly toward us. “What’s that?”
“That’s the Zhuk—the smaller boat that goes the same speed as us.” I was going to add, “The Zhuk has only machine guns,” but that didn’t sound reassuring, so I also explained, “The closer we are to the Zhuk, the less likely it is for the Stenka to fire its cannons.”
Again she nodded, but pointed out, correctly, “The Zhuk is going to shoot at us.”
“And we’re going to shoot back.”
She had no comment, and I had nothing to add, but Jack said, “We’ll both be moving and shooting from unstable platforms.”
Sara comprehended that and nodded.
I added, “It’s sort of like a drive-by shooting on a bad patch of road, and both drive-bys are moving toward each other, so it won’t last long, and when we pass in the night, he has to turn around to pursue, but he loses a lot of speed in the turn, and we’re still making twenty-five knots.” That, of course, assumed his twin machine guns didn’t kill us all.
Again she nodded, but didn’t comment.
I looked at the radar screen and saw that we were about five nautical miles from the Stenka, who was in pursuit, but who hadn’t gained any ground on us, so maybe he wasn’t able to get full speed out of his engines—or he was lying back, waiting to see if I made another crazy move.
The Zhuk was coming at me full barrel, though he was heading into the wind and waves, and maybe not making twenty-five knots. In any case, our closing speed was maybe forty knots and we would meet in about five minutes.
I asked Jack, “What’s the ammo situation for the AR?”
“I got ten empty mags that need reloading.”
“See if you can do that in three minutes. And get yourself into a firing position through the forward hatch.”
He disappeared below and I said to Sara, “I need you to go below, get a Kevlar vest, and bring one for me.” I handed her my Glock. “And get fresh magazines for this.”
She nodded and disappeared below.
The Maine didn’t have an anemometer, so I couldn’t measure the wind speed or direction, but I was guessing the winds were about twenty knots, still blowing westerly, and I could see that the waves were cresting at about six feet and not breaking over the bow. But the bow was rising on each wave, and Jack would only have a clear shot ahead when the bow pitched down. The good news was that the Zhuk had the same problem with his twin machine guns mounted on his forward deck.
I looked at the radar screen and saw that the Zhuk was now three nautical miles ahead and still coming straight at us. He was playing chicken with me, which was my game—or more likely he thought that I understood I was finished and I was going to surrender. But if he thought that, he was being too rational.
I saw the vent hatch rise up on the bow, and I expected to see Jack squeezing himself up with his AR-15, but it was Felipe whose head and shoulders appeared, and I could see he had the five-round automatic shotgun that was loaded with deer slugs. This may be the worst and most inaccurate weapon you can have in this situation, but it was better than a .38 revolver, and maybe even better than a Hail Mary.
Felipe looked back at me and gave me a thumbs-up. Apparently he’d come to the only conclusion he could come to. Or he’d had a chat with Sara, who’d straightened him out. I knew Felipe was standing on something in the lower cabin, and I hoped it wasn’t Jack’s shoulders. But where was Jack?
I looked at the radar. We were about two nautical miles from meeting the Zhuk. I couldn’t see him in the dark and stormy sea, and he couldn’t see me, but we both knew, thanks to technology, that we were on a collision course. In a minute or two, we’d both revert to something less sophisticated—bullets and balls.
I glanced again at the radar and saw that the Stenka was still about five nautical miles behind us. He couldn’t turn his 120-foot boat as fast as I could turn, so I guessed that the Stenka captain, knowing he had more speed than his prey, was just waiting to see if I broke to port or starboard—then, when he got in range, he could open up with his radar-controlled cannons without taking a chance of hitting the Zhuk. Or, like the Zhuk captain, the Stenka captain was thinking I was going to raise the white flag. I mean, why else would I be heading toward the Zhuk?
Jack appeared from below carrying a canvas bag of loaded magazines and the AR-15. He shouted over the wind and breaking waves, “I’m going up the tower!”