Chapter 6: Warehouse Rescue

Sunday dawned bright and clear. Already, I could hear the activity on the pier as the holiday boaters readied their yachts to go out for the day. I guess I should mention that the local yacht club shares the harbor with the navy.

After a quick shower, I started for the salon when I suddenly turned and went back to get dressed. Then, once again, headed for the salon. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I made my way to the flying bridge.

“Good morning!” I told everyone.

“We’re waiting on Craig to take us to the Canadian Consulate,” Captain Alfred told me. “Some big celebration going on.”

“What would you say to me just staying on the Serendipity today?” I asked. “I could use a rest day.”

“I’ll be glad to stay with him,” Reggie offered. “I’ve got some reports I need to go over.”

So that’s how, an hour later, I found myself alone on the bridge, looking out over the harbor and Fort de France Bay. Reggie was down in the salon, doing his reports and talking on his satellite phone.

As I lounged in the captain’s chair, I began to casually study the various yachts as they positioned themselves to exit the harbor to head out to sea. I marveled at all the different kinds and sizes and I began to be able to tell which ones were piloted by more experienced captains by the way they handled their crafts in the tight bay, as they headed for the small opening to the sea. It reminded me of sheep in a small pen trying to get through a hole in the fence.

The French Navy only kept a handful of ships in the port. It was all they needed to effectively manage the seas surrounding Martinique. The two largest were small cruisers, Captain Alfred had told me. And they were moored off to our starboard side, near the mouth of the bay. I couldn’t spot any activity on them. I guess it was because it was both a Sunday and a holiday weekend.

Around noon, Reggie brought us sandwiches and drinks to the bridge. I was to find that Reggie didn’t waste many words, so we didn’t talk a lot as we ate our lunch looking out over the bay. Just as he was picking up the dirty plates to return them to the galley, he stopped and stared. I quickly followed his gaze.

It was an old fishing trawler, worn and in sad repair. I think Reggie noticed it because it looked so out of place in a harbor full of sleek and expensive yachts. And it was entering the harbor instead of leaving it. Grabbing the binoculars, he studied the trawler then said, “Alex! Get below!”

I ignored him and grabbed the other set of binoculars as he began using the yacht’s radio to call the base. I quickly discerned what he was worried about. The sad looking trawler was loaded to the gills with men in ragged outfits and armed with a variety of weapons. The problem was, the weapons all looked brand new, including the forward mounted 50 caliber machine gun and the even uglier looking box-like gizmo with the four holes in it, on the stern.

” ... This is Motor Yacht Serendipity currently moored dockside at the Fort Saint Louis Naval Base. We’re calling an emergency situation because a heavily armed trawler has just entered the harbor and...”

He stopped because of the explosion. As the trawler had rounded the point that marked the entrance to the bay, they were less than 500 yards away and headed straight for the Serendipity. When the seamen began removing the cover off the big box-like thing on the aft deck, I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was bad. Before even I could blink, it exploded in a huge fireball that engulfed most of the old trawler. I saw men falling or jumping overboard, but couldn’t take my eyes off the now flaming trawler as it began drifting closer to the two moored Navy cruisers.

“Kinda brings home what you were describing the other day,” Reggie said. “And if I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it. Was that a SAM launcher?”

We spent the next hour just watching as the French Navy and some local firefighting boats extinguished the burning trawler and pulled it out of the harbor before it sank and became a navigational hazard. Uniformed men in small Zodiacs with blue lights were rounding up the survivors while others, mostly Navy personnel conducted search and rescue. The two Navy cruisers, so bereft of life earlier, were now swarming with men.

“What do you think they were after?” I finally asked Reggie.

“It looks like they were targeting the Serendipity,” Reggie replied. “So best guess is they were after you. The real question is why?”

“That’s easy, my amigos,” said a strange voice behind us. He was big. I was sure he would tower over my six-foot-two frame, and he was wet. He also carried what I later found out was a new AK47 assault rifle and some kind of pistol tucked in his belt. “It is the dinaro. They gave us the guns and promised mucho dinaro if you to die!”

“Before you kill us, may I ask who is paying you so much dinaro to have me dead?” I asked.

“Si. It is good to know why you are going to die,” he agreed. “I do not know his name, my amigo, but he is holding my daughter hostage until I return. Then he will pay us and set her free. So you see, I must do this thing he demands, for I love my daughter and would not see her harmed.”

“Gently!” whispered Reggie as I suddenly charged his EMFs with my energy. Unfortunately, he was sopping wet and standing in a puddle, so when the small charge hit him, he dropped the rifle and clutched both hands to his heart. Reggie was on him in a flash, stripping him of his weapons. Then grabbing the AK47 and checking the action, he headed for the cockpit and a quick inspection to see if there were more intruders.

I sank to the floor and pulled the big guy’s head into my lap as I desperately tried to think of something to do.

“Is okay, amigo,” he rasped and then coughed violently for a moment.

“Hang in there, my friend,” I replied. “Help is on the way.”