Chapter 24: Pirated

Between May and September each year, along the east coast of Florida and the western Caribbean, pleasure boats are everywhere. Enrico Salvatore’ had worked on a fishing boat for two years out of the Dominican Republic. He has seen many private yachts. Then one day his uncle had died, and Enrico suddenly found he had the keys to a fast boat, an ex-drug smuggling boat that his uncle had bought cheap from the government, but rarely used. Being the fisherman, he left the boat to Enrico.

Now, Enrico had a couple of friends. They’d often talked on many a night about ways of making better money, and now they had this boat. They thought a lot about how they could make money with it in the off season. Unfortunately, most ideas involved doing illegal things. One night, after a lot of discussion, they thought if they were going to do something illegal, you might as well do it once for a lot of money rather than many times for the same amount.

The three went and talked to Ricardo Soprano, a man they knew on the docks who was into a lot of things. They asked him what was the most profitable thing they could carry. Ricardo mentioned a few types of drugs. Enrico asked, “What is more profitable than narco?” Ricardo laughed, looked at him. “Well, pound for pound, white girls are ten times more profitable than the best narcos.” Ricardo went on. “They have a scale, too. White whores from the Miami streets, less than coca. Young, white, teenage girls, fresh from the suburbs of America, now that’s the biggest payday of all.” He relit his cigar. “But you have to have a network. Someone to find them, grab them, deliver them, unhurt, untouched. Can’t do that without an intricate network. Stick to drugs. They’re more suited for your old Cigarette boat.”

Enrico went outside with the other two. Pedro was his age, worked on a different fishing boat. Jose worked on the docks, unloading fish from fishing boats. Enrico lit a cigarette. “Look. I got an idea. Pedro, you go to sea a lot in the spring and summer. What do see?”

Pedro laughed. “A lot of fish,” he answered. Enrico laughed, then said “yes, but I also see a lot of pleasure craft. Private yachts.” Pedro said, “So?”

“Ricardo said we need a source. We got one. Pleasure boats. They always have girls on board. We go out at night, pull up on one, grab the honeys and toss the others overboard as fish bait. We get us as many as we can in one night, then take them to my crib. We tell Ricardo, negotiate a price. A big price. We only grab the best and youngest.”

They all tried to imagine the money they might make. They smoked more ganja, tried to think of every risk, and there were plenty. In the end it came down to two things: Control and No Witnesses. They all agreed; it was worth at least one try.

On the following Friday, the fishing boats were in as usual. Jose called in sick. The three men got in Enrico’s Cigarette around sunset and headed out to where they thought they might find pleasure boats, or where they’d seen them most often. They cruised north for an hour, then motored slowly west. Along came a small target on their old radar set. They circled around, came up slowly behind it. It was a sailboat, about 45’ long they guessed. Not doing more than five knots. They put all the rubber fenders over the left side of their own boat. Enrico came up beside them. The man at the wheel didn’t even notice them until they were almost on him. With their lights out, Enrico bumped right alongside the sailboat. Jose and Pedro jumped onto the boat. The man yelled at them as Enrico moved slowly away a few yards. Pedro and Jose moved back with their guns out, shining bright flashlights at the man. A woman called out, came up the stairway and screamed when she saw the two intruders. Pedro, not even wearing a mask, shined the light at the man as he ran up to him. “You, turn into the wind and stop the boat,” he ordered the man. The man did after he saw Pedro’s big revolver. As the boat slowed, Pedro told the man to go up and drop the sails. He followed him, making him drop both the main sail and the genoa. The boat was stationary in the night water now.

As Enrico came back alongside, the man was forced to stand by the mast. Jose was bringing up the others- a woman and three teens. They made them stand on the top of the cabin. There were two teen girls and one teen boy. Pedro and Jose looked at Enrico. Enrico said, “Take those two. Put the others inside.”

Pedro and Jose told the two girls to get on the boat, which the others objected to immediately. Pedro shot the boy in the leg. As he went down and the parents went to help, they made the two girls get on their boat. Pedro stayed with the parents while Jose forced the two girls into the Cigarette’s small cabin. He came back up, grabbed a plastic five-gallon container of gasoline and some tie wraps. On the sailboat, Jose and Pedro secured the parents below deck. Pedro took the five gallons of gasoline below and began spreading it all over the people in the cabin, spreading gasoline everywhere. He backed out with a little left, closed the hatch, latched it, then poured the rest of the gas from the hatch across the cabin roof.

Meanwhile, Enrico told Jose to bring the two girls up on deck. Jose did, forcing the two up into the boat’s cockpit. They watched as Pedro climbed back on board, tossing the empty gas can onto the sailboat. Enrico backed up away from the boat a couple of yards. He turned to the girls and laughed, “Watch what we do to your family, little girls!” Pedro laughed, lighted the flare as Enrico motored past. He tossed the flare onto the cabin. The gas immediately ignited, spread right to the hatch. Inside, the whole cabin just exploded in flames. As he circled around, you could plainly hear the screams of everyone inside as they were burned alive in the inferno. When the cries finally ended, Enrico said to the girls, “Don’t worry, they’ll be fish bait soon enough!” They all laughed as they forced the girls below again.

Pedro took stock as Jose tie-wrapped the girls. Both were brunette, medium length hair, average height and weight. In their shorts and t-shirts, he guessed their age at about 16. He asked them, but they were still pretty hysterical about watching their family get burned alive. He made each girl stand up as the boat cruised eastward. One girl had a very cute butt, big but not too big. He made her lift her shirt briefly. Average size tits for a young teenager. He had Jose check her to see if she had any pussy hair. Jose reached down her shorts as she struggled against him. He said, “Some, not much.”

Pedro told her to sit down. He told the second girl to stand. She too had a cute butt, like the first girl. An inch or so taller. When he made her lift her t-shirt, he saw she wore no bra. She had the kind of tits that were just above a handful each, but didn’t stand straight out like most young girls. Her tits hung down more, but still they were pretty fresh looking. These two girls looked like gold to Pedro. He asked Jose to check. Jose reached down the front of shorts as she struggled against him. “She older, got some hair.” He rubbed her crotch, looking up quizzically. “Maybe, seventeen or eighteen I’d say.” The girl just stood there, crying, sobbing as he felt her up. She kept looking at her sister, questioningly, as each girl searched for answers. Pedro put the first girl down as 15; the second girl as 17.

Back up top, they cruised east. Indeed, there were boats everywhere now. They saw the fire on the sailboat go out when it quickly sank. A couple of hours later, a big cabin cruiser was motoring eastward slowly. Maybe 70-80 feet long. Using the Cigarette’s black hull and no lights, Enrico quickly moved up behind the unsuspecting yacht. As they approached, a man who was sitting in a chair with a woman on the lighted after deck, suddenly noticed them. The man jumped up, ran towards the bridge yelling. Suddenly the yacht engines raced and it sped up. But it was no match for the Cigarette. Enrico ran up alongside, just close enough to let Jose and Pedro jump aboard. Enrico couldn’t hear the gunshot over the sound of the engines. The man they had seen had run below and come up with a shotgun. Pedro shot him, killing him instantly.

Pedro watched the main cabin as Jose ran up the stairway to the bridge. Soon the engines slowed to idle. The boat drifted slowly to a stop. Jose came down with the captain at gunpoint. Meanwhile, two more people had come up, a middle-aged couple from below decks.

Enrico pulled up alongside the nearly stopped yacht, jumped on and tied their boat to the yacht. He moved quickly to the cabin. Pedro stood there with Jose, pointing their guns at the four people standing by the dead body; the captain, the victim’s girlfriend and the two that had just arrived. Enrico said in Spanish, “Go check the boat for others. Bring them all up here. Jose, go with him.” He turned to the four. “You people! Sit down right there, on the floor! Now!” The four sat down as the two men moved below. There were voices, sounds, then eventually they came back with two young girls and a woman, obviously the captain’s wife who served as the maid. She’d been holding the two girls closely until they got to the main room, then the girls had run to their parent’s side, the maid following.

On the boat were eight people, cruising to Puerto Rico on this chartered 75’ yacht. Mark Rosenberg was the man with the money. In the cold winter of Chicago, he’d set this up with his new wealth. Being a Lotto winner certainly had its perks for a 40-year-old recently divorced man. For himself, he’d invited the girl who worked at the local pot dispensary store. Young, with a nice butt and a love for fun it seemed like He’d also invited his friend Steven Rogers and his wife Beth, plus their two 14-year-old daughters to go with them. Being February in Chicago, everyone said yes in a hurry.

Mark’s date was Emily Macon. 20 years old. She had blonde hair and a very cute face. Her butt was very nice, especially in her tight jeans, and she wasn’t lacking in the breast department either. She was no virgin, but she was no slut, either. She’d only had three boyfriends, and two had only lasted briefly. Her figure was an asset she took care of. Jogging kept things trim. She was 5’10” and 131 pounds. Only on the first day of the cruise had Mark, or anyone, seen her in a bikini before. The view was, in a word, breathtaking. Those big tits of hers had been well-concealed at her job, but not now. Holy cow, did that girl have some cleavage. She only got better the lower you looked. Sexy hips, a very cute butt and a bikini that showed a whole lot of butt cheek. Even Roger got jabbed by his wife for staring. Often.

The Rogers were a middle-class family who had been Mark’s neighbors before the divorce. They’d stayed friends since then, Mark and Steven sharing an interest in good pot. His wife was fairly overweight and quite average in looks. His two daughters weren’t twins, they’d just been born one year apart, and this was the month they were the same age. Erica was the younger one. Long, straight, brown hair, all the way to her waist. She often wore it in a ponytail. She had a very cute little girl butt, nice legs and average boobs for a girl her age, just starting to show. Her adorable little face made her look even younger. She wore a short top and bikini bottoms.

Her slightly older sister Lisa had brown hair too, but it was shorter, just below her shoulders. She was about the same height, 5’3”, and weight. She also had a cute butt, but her young breasts were more developed. Way more. They were obvious underneath certain tops she wore. She also wore a short top and bikini bottoms. Being just fourteen, she was still getting used to the idea of having boobs, and how to dress with them. She’d started using a bra last year, but hated them. Sometimes though, she’d look down and for no apparent reason her nipples would be all hard and her areoles all puffy. Embarrassing at the mall or school, she usually wore something over it to hide them better. She wondered if they’d get larger. She still didn’t have any pubic hair, though she’d started having periods. She wondered if her clothes revealed too much. Conservative compared to 20-year-old Emily, Lisa was still one sexy-looking little girl.

The captain was a retired merchant marine officer, who’d bought a boat and began doing charters with his wife. It was a fun retirement. Chartering boats was not for the low income, so their guests were normally people of much higher social stature.

Enrico looked them all over. Mark Rosenberg lay on the floor, dead. Everyone else sat around, hands raised, scared to death. “This is everyone?” Enrico asked. “Si, si, everyone,” said Pedro. Enrico made everybody get on their knees. The captain spoke, asked what did they want. “Shut the fuck up,” Enrico said. He nodded to the others. “Take the two youngest ones, and that one there. Leave the rest.”

Pedro and Jose grabbed the two younger girls. The parents resisted of course. The woman yelled, “Hey! Hey! These are our children! Leave them alone! They’re our children!” She tried getting Pedro to let go of Lisa’s arm. The father started to fight too, grabbing Jose’s grip on Erica. The two young girls resisted. Then the captain started to join in. Enrico had no choice; it was getting out of control fast. He shot the father twice as he struggled with Jose. Down he went; the wife and kids screamed. Enrico shot the captain and his wife too; both went down, but only wounded. The mother was still holding Pedro, so Jose shot her once while holding the gun to her head. She died instantly.

The three remaining women; two teenagers and an older girl; were scared to death, eyes wide, certain they were next. Mark Rosenberg was dead it looked like. The four adults had all been shot. The girl’s mother was dead; their father wounded. The captain and his wife had been shot also. They thought for sure they were next. Instead, the girls were forced, crying and still resisting, to get on the Cigarette boat. In the Cigarette’s cabin, the three girls found two more girls, the two from the sailboat. The door closed behind them and locked.

Enrico locked the door, then the three men went back to the boat. They dragged the two dead bodies and threw them overboard. They dragged each of the remaining three to the back and pushed them overboard too. The blood from the bullet wounds would attract sharks soon enough. Enrico ran below, opening some valves, allowing sea water to begin flooding the boat. Back on their own boat, the three could hear a couple of people crying out from the water. Then splashes, screams. They could see the sharks attacking the group already.

The three men started the Cigarette and headed back to their dock near the fishing harbor. On the way, Pedro and Jose went below to take inventory. First, the new girls had asked where were the others? Pedro loved telling them they were at this moment being eaten alive by sharks as they bled into the water. Their boat was sinking, too. The three were even more horrified, crying even more. Pedro checked the new arrivals. One girl, blonde hair, said she was twenty years old. She wore this sexy black bikini. Definitely a 10, Pedro thought. Big tits. Rich white girl. He turned his attention to the other two. They said they were both fourteen years old. This one had just turned fourteen so they weren’t twins. It was obvious which was the older girl. She had these really cute tits pushing through the short t-shirt she had on. The other girl had small boobs. They both had on short t-shirts and bikini bottoms. They both had some really nice, thin legs. Like a lot of young girls, their thighs didn’t even touch yet.

Pedro finally got the ages of the other two girls. One was fifteen, the other sixteen. So, all together they had two fourteen-year-olds; one fifteen, one sixteen and one twenty. This should pay big.

Just before dawn they motored in to their private old dock. The five girls were brought up on deck, forced at gunpoint to walk to Enrico’s trailer home. Inside, Enrico took a picture of each girl. He texted Ricardo that he had some products to sell. His cell phone rang with an unknown number. It was Ricardo.

“What do you mean you have product to sell? I give you the product, you deliver my product. Then I pay you. What do you mean you have something to sell?”

“It’s high-quality merchandise, Senior Ricardo. Like we talked about. I can send you a picture.” Ricardo said, “Ok, let’s have a look at what you have. Send it to this number.” Enrico took the picture of the sixteen-year-old with the big knockers and sent it by text. A minute later Ricardo texted back. “Send your address. I want to inspect this stove you have for sale.”

About an hour later, Ricardo and another man drove up to their trailer in Ricardo’s SUV. Inside, Ricardo stood in the living room as each girl was brought out one by one. Ricardo was surprised. “You got five you say? In just one night?” Enrico told him they had a good source. Safe, no witnesses. Each girl was looked at.

“Girl #1. 20 years old. White. From Chicago, USA.” Emily had to turn around as the two men inspected her. Emily thought this was like some sort of auction; like they were being sold. Holy crap, was this some sort of sex slave trade thing? Suddenly, Emily was twice as scared as she was before. Wearing this black bikini didn’t help. She had to go back to the bedroom.

“Girl #2. 16 years old. White. From Ft. Lauderdale, USA.” Stacy stood there, terrified, not knowing what was going on or what to do. She’d been forced to watch her parents get burned alive in their sailboat. They told her to turn around slowly. She did. Stacy stood about 5’8” tall, weighed maybe 140 pounds. She had on jean shorts and a bikini top. Stacy had a nice, big butt, and a pair of some really nice breasts. Big for her young age, firm, a lot of cleavage. Her long, dark brown hair showed her Italian heritage.

“Girl #3. 15 years old. White. From Ft. Lauderdale, USA. Sister to #2.” Cindy came out into the living room, just as scared as the others. She was 5’9” tall, weighed about 140 pounds too. She had more average breasts, not as big as her sister’s. A typical Italian butt made for one sexy girl. Long dark brown hair like her sister, with gym shorts and a bikini top too.

“Girl #4. 14 years old. White. Chicago, USA.” Lisa did what they said. She slowly turned around. Everyone was staring at her. Lisa was 5’5” tall, 130 pounds. Average looks. Brown hair, should length. Short top and bikini bottoms. Her young breasts and nipples were pushing visibly through the fabric.

“Girl #5. 14 years old. White. Chicago, USA. Sister of the previous girl.” Erica slowly turned when they told her to. Erica was 5’4” tall, 125 pounds. Average looks like her sister, except Erica had brown hair. Short top and bikini bottoms like her sister. She didn’t know what was going on, except the others had all come out here to this living room one at a time, then came back to the bedroom. She was the last. She figured because she was the youngest. Eyes crying still, her young breasts and nipples also pressed against her t-shirt noticeably. Being this scared had only caused her nipples to get all puffy and erect. It sure wasn’t helping.

After the fifth girl left, Ricardo and Enrico negotiated. Ricardo said they were excellent; he’d take as many as they could get. For these five, he’d pay them $10,000 US each. Enrico wanted $15,000 apiece. “I got my sources, too.” Actually, Enrico didn’t have any idea what a white girl like these went for. He just assumed Ricardo would lowball him on price, so he raised it 50%. They went back and forth, but Ricardo knew a good thing when he saw it. He bought all five for $13,000 each. Riches for the three, a bargain for Ricardo Soprano. They were all tie-wrapped, mouths taped closed. They were forced outside and crowded into the back rows of the Yukon. Ricardo began making calls as soon as they left. He knew who was waiting for girls like these five.