Chapter 11: Attack

“As soon as Archara screamed, everyone on the yacht was headed for the small stateroom. I saw the incoming hoard and stepped into the adjacent stateroom. It only took me a moment to spot it.

Every stateroom in the twin hulls, by code, has to have an escape hatch. I found it, opened the hatch and wiggled through. Then I crawled the length of the hull to the rear cabin and popped up through the hatch in the floor. From there it was easy to sneak up the stairs and out into the cockpit and finally the bridge. Captain Alfred was the only one on the bridge. He arched his eyebrows at me as I came up.

“They were holding a senate committee meeting, and I didn’t want to get subpoenaed,” I told him.

He just smiled and returned to studying something on the bridge console. However, the peace didn’t last very long.

We heard it before we saw it. Voices. Lots and lots of voices. And they were angry voices, growing in intensity as they swarmed up the stairs to the flying bridge. Finally, Archara arrived, and she was pulling a sobbing Charlotte by the ear.

When she reached the bridge console, she stopped and the bridge became eerily silent.

“I suppose that there is a legitimate reason for all this hubbub on my bridge?” Captain Alfred asked as he gestured at the room.

From this point on, the conversation between Alfred and Archara was in French with a good amount of Thai thrown in. However, you didn’t need an interpreter to understand what was happening. (Although Carina told me later that one of Alfred’s milder threats was to make her walk the plank).

After much yelling and cursing and the good old fashioned weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, cooler heads finally prevailed. Thanks in large part to Roland. It was his calm in the midst of the storm that calmed the others and he was able to convince Alfred and Archara not to kill their youngest daughter, nor to bend her over and thrash her within an inch of her life. At least not right then.

Instead, it was decided to wait until cooler heads could prevail, then tomorrow Charlotte would be brought up on deck and in view of everyone, thrashed within an inch of her life.

Was I mad at Charlotte? Not really. I had figured it out yesterday and already had my chance to be angry. But I figured she did it for the oldest of reasons, misguided love. And since I am a romantic at heart, I just couldn’t stay mad once I understood why she did it.

But her parents and the rest of the ship were not seeing it that way. They sent her to the forward buoy locker, hauled out the buoys and dropped her inside, slamming the hatch closed.

Now before you start with how awful her parents were to treat their youngest daughter that way, remember that Henri and Phillipe were sharing the other buoy locker and calling it the forward stateroom. These were massive buoy lockers with wet heads and twin bunks. Or you could call them tiny staterooms that could also be used for storage. Either way, it wasn’t as inhumane as it seemed.

I guess what was inhumane was the way they slammed the hatch cover down and then Alfred placed a large padlock through the hasp. If they had thought about it, they would have remembered what I just recently told you. Every room has to have an escape hatch. In this case, her escape hatch led to the room that Vivienne and she were sharing. I wondered if they would figure it out.

It was a strange afternoon and evening as the skies darkened, and the waves became larger as the winds swung around to the northwest. We eventually had to reef the sails and change our heading a little more south than west. But thank goodness for the big genoa sail. We were still able to maintain a respectable twelve and one-half knots. But there were clearly storms on the horizon, and it didn’t look like we were going to out-sail them.

There were also storm clouds in the galley, so I just eased my way in, grabbed a plate and headed back for the bridge. “I’ve got the bridge duty,” became my mantra as I worked my way through the mini buffet line.

Once on the bridge, I checked the compass and the weather, (both unchanged) and then plotted our position with the GPS. On a hunch, I stepped out on the bridge wing to see if I could sense the GPS satellites, but no such luck. Then I sat down to eat my dinner. It was pita sandwiches tonight.

A few minutes later, Vivienne made her way, alone up the steps to the bridge.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I answered back.

“What ‘cha doing?” she asked.

I did a quick double take to make sure it was Vivienne.

“Charlotte’s been teaching me how American’s talk,” she explained.

“I think you need a different teacher.”

“I had one, but he doesn’t seem to come around very much.”

“Touché,” I told her. “Now, tell me what you want.”

“Well ... could you really heal me without making love to me?” she asked.

“Too late! I already did it!” I told her.

“No way! Really! But I think I still like girls. I mean I do sorta like Charlotte,” she said.

“The way the healing works is this: From now on, if you heart says you love somebody, it won’t matter whether they’re male or female, black or white or any other color. It won’t even matter where they came from or even if they are Catholics!”

“That is so cool!” she cried. “Thank you so much for healing me. Anna was right, you are very wise for an American.”

“Oh, well,” I thought.

“Ker-Blam!”

I literally had my head in the refrigerator, looking for some leftovers to tide me over until after my watch when it happened. It was so loud and so close that it sounded like it was in the cockpit.

“Ker-Blam!” Went a second one just off the port side, seconds later.

“Those god-damned-mother-fucking sons of bitches are bombing our ship,” I cried as I raced for the fantail. I looked into the night sky and saw nothing, but I could hear them. And then, as if by magic, I could see the electronic circuitry in the two aircraft as they made their turn for another run. As they started their second run, the planes began to sizzle and crackle and pop. This caused their ejector seats to automatically fire the tiny explosives that hurled the pilots, seats and all, into the night sky.

It was fortunate for the pilots that they were made to work that way, because before their ejector seats even reached their maximum height, their planes were totally fried. I had made sure of that! I also made sure that any electronics on their seats and their survival gear was fried too.

Unfortunately, I got a little carried away with that one and fried most of their Nomex flight suits as well. Nomex flight suits were filled with circuitry.

“Reef the sails and start the main engines, we’re coming about. Archara, get the spotlights. Anna, take the port side, Henri, you take the starboard. We’ve got two downed airmen out there,” Captain Alfred calmly gave the orders.

“Here, Roland, you take the wheel and keep us on a heading of 090 due east for four minutes. If we don’t find them, we’ll do a 180 and go west for eight minutes. Keep just enough speed for steerage.

“Everybody, be on the lookout for two downed airmen. There are spare flashlights in the salon. Walt, I want you to get the two longest lines out of the locker up front and tie them together, then lash one to the bow of your dinghy. The other to the mid cleat. When I give the word, shove it over the side.”

As I stood quietly to the side of the fray on the lower level of the port side sugar scoop, I realized that I already knew where they were and that we would come upon the first one soon. The second one was barely sixty meters beyond that. But with the darkness and the two-foot seas, the swells made line of sight difficult.

“All Stop!” I cried. I knew the first airman was very close. But they weren’t moving, so I dove into the cold waters and swam the four or five meters to where they lay, face down in the water.

I grabbed the back of the helmet, forcing the face to look skyward and began dragging them back to the Serendipity. As I handed the pilot up to the others, I couldn’t miss the bodacious set of ta-ta’s on a very cute body.

“The next one is that way about sixty meters,” I told Archara. “Have Isabella keep an eye on this one and I’ll heal her after we get the other one.”

We found him moments later, also unconscious, and also with nothing on but a flight helmet.

By the time I had climbed back on board and toweled off, Corina had moved them to couches in the salon and covered them with blankets to ward off the chill. She had her doctor’s bag and was busy taking their vitals.

“Can you do it? Can you heal them?” she asked me. Everyone was standing around the two downed airmen, watching what I would do next.

“I should be able to. It doesn’t look too serious. Carina, can you see the blue/white lines running up and down their bodies? Hers is slightly pink tinted.”

“No, I ... wait! I see them. They’re very faint.”

“See that knot in the middle? Right below her breasts and above her bellybutton? That’s the center where they originate. As long as she has that, she’ll live.”

“That is so amazing, Daniel!” she replied.

I spread my hands and placed them just over the knot of energy pluses, holding them steady.

“What are you doing now?” Carina asked.

“I’m balancing out her energy. She has absorbed a great deal more energy than her body is used to,” I explained.

We sat like that with my hands on her abdomen for several minutes. Then I started moving my hands gently like a massage. Finally, I began to move my hands slowly up her body, palms down and fingers spread wide, to her extravagant boobs.

“What are you doing now, Daniel?” Carina asked, as I teased her nipples and caressed her boobs.

“Aww, C’mon! I’m a horny teenaged boy!” I teased her. “Besides, if you have to ask, then you’re too young to know.”

“Daniel!” she said as she swiped at me. But I was already moving to the other pilot.

“Holy Top Gun!” I shouted and everybody came running. This pilot was a female also. When I pulled her out of the sea, she appeared flat chested. And in the dark, I wasn’t checking her private parts. But as I pulled down the blanket, the hidden became obvious!

I followed the same procedure and could tell she was balanced in just a few moments. Now all we needed was for her to wake up. I knew from experience what that type of power could do to you. I took some time to gaze at her body, inching my fingers up the center of her chest. That’s when I saw her name tags on a chain around her neck. I pulled the chain over her head and held them out to Archara. She quickly read them as she moved to collect the blonde’s.

“Leigh Ann and Samantha,” Archara read the names out loud.

About then, both pilots began to sputter and move.

It was kind of funny, almost a Keystone Cops routine as they first woke up to find they were naked, and then that their captors were also naked. I’m sure they expected an orgy to break out any moment. Of course, with two fifteen-year-olds and an eighteen-year-old as the only visible men, it would probably not have been all that much as orgies go.

“Leigh Ann Ryerson, Lieutenant, US Navy, Serial number 4262...

“262543” finished Archara. “Yeah, we’ve got your tags. Do you mind telling us just What-The-Hell You were doing? We’ve got women and children, Civilians! god-damn-it! on this boat!”

They both snapped to attention, which was of interest to me only because of some sick fantasies I used to have, and together said, “We were following orders, Ma’am!”

I honestly thought she was going to salute Archara for a moment.

Archara stalked up to them, her eyes millimeters away from theirs and said, “Since when does the US Navy issue orders to kill civilian women and children? The only military presence on this yacht is my husband, a ship-of-the-line battle commander for the French Navy who’s on holiday. And on this ship, even he follows my orders!”

The pilots remained at attention and mute.

“Now, either talk, or we just toss you overboard. None of us here have ever read the Geneva Convention, much less signed it. As far as we’re concerned you just tried to murder six French children and three American children! Not to mention an officer in the Navy Royale.”

That’s all it took and soon there was a naked pile of blubbering females. Time for me to vamoose.

It was a long time before any relevant information filtered its way up to the bridge. Archara was running the interrogation of the pilots in the salon with the help of everyone except Captain Alfred, Roland, Walt, and me.

Captain Alfred had the conn, as they say on Star Trek. Roland was in a casual discussion with Walt about the relative merits of the different rescues, and I was thinking about what I had witnessed when I saw the electronic circuits in the dead of the night.

Eventually, Archara made her way to the bridge.

“Daniel, Leigh Ann needs some more healing. She’s in Carina’s cabin. Alfred, come with me.” Her tone of voice didn’t leave any room to argue, so I headed to Carina’s cabin.

I found out later that Walt and Roland got similar marching orders, so Henri and Phillipe ended up with the watch.

When I got to the stateroom, all the lights were out. I moved to the side of the bed and turned on one of the reading lamps. Leigh Ann Ryerson was stretched out on top of the covers, just as naked and sexy as she was earlier.

“What could you possibly have that needs healing?” I asked. “You look absolutely perfect!”

“They were serious? You are really going to heal me?” she asked. “I thought they were just pulling my leg,” she said.

“Well, since I healed the electrical shock earlier, what do you have left to heal?” I asked again. “There must be something or Princess Archara would not have sent me down here.”

“Princess? Princess Archara?” she asked.

“Yeah. She grew up in the Royal House of Thailand. She’s not in line for the throne because she’s not a male, but she is a Princess and she is Royal,” I explained.

“Wow! She never mentioned that!”

“She also failed to mention just what it is that you need me to heal,” I reminded her.

“Well, it might be my heart. My boyfriend broke up with me last week, just before I deployed,” she explained. “I thought we had a good thing going. He was JAG (The Judge Advocacy General’s office were the lawyers for the Navy) and doing okay. I was trying for career pilot status but needed a few more missions, so I accepted this deployment.”

“Where were you deployed?”

“The USS Dwight D. Eisenhower (CVN 69), currently stationed in the western Mediterranean Sea. We were on our way to Egypt when we got orders to find and sink a motor yacht loaded with terrorists headed for the states,” she said.

“Do you know who issued those orders?”

“That’s the same thing the Princess asked us. The truth is, we don’t know. They called us to flight ready, gave us our mission briefs, loaded us into our Hornets and away we flew.”

“You fly the F/A-18 Hornets?” I asked with excitement. “I’m from Marietta, Georgia. That’s where they make the F-22 Raptor.”

“Uh-oh! Another fighter freak!” she said. But she did say it with a smile.

“Should I apologize for being a guy?” I asked.

“No ... ah.”

“Great! So I don’t have to apologize for looking at your breasts!”

“What breasts?” she asked as she covered them with her hands.

“Too late! I’ve already seen them. Besides I healed them when I healed the rest of you.”

“You healed ... How?” she asked.

“It was your ovaries. They were out of synch with the rest of your body and not producing any estradiol. I don’t know how long it will take, but they’ll start to catch up with the rest of your body soon,” I told her.

“I don’t believe this. This has got to be the greatest line of all time. Next, I suppose you’ll want to suck on them. To help them grow, of course.”

“I don’t know if that would help them grow or not. I do know that I’d like the chance to see how sensitive they are. I’ve heard that smaller breasts are the most sensitive.”

Leigh Ann thought for a minute and then moved closer to me on the berth. “You’ll be gentle, won’t you?”

I bent my head and brushed her tiny nipple with my lips. She shivered delightfully, so I continued with soft, gentle caresses with my lips and tongue. When she moaned, I kissed the one I was working on.

“Ohmygod!” she cried as she thrust her entire chest at me. I rolled her on her back and began to nibble and kiss her chest all over, mostly avoiding her nipples. But when I slipped and touched one of her little points, she shivered all through her body.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes she called, “Enough! That’s enough! They’re too sensitive!”

“How about other places? Are they sensitive too?” Then I leaned down and ran my tongue softly through her pussy lips.

“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! How did you know?” she asked. I didn’t stop to answer, I just kept on doing what I was doing. Soon, her pussy was flooded with pussy juices.

“Please, fuck me now! Put your cock in my pussy and fuck me!” she screamed.

Since I usually try to do what an adult tells me to do, I did just that, sliding my hard cock in her tiny pussy. Man! Was she tight! Her boyfriend must not be in the gifted program because I have never felt a pussy as tight as Leigh Ann’s.