Just Different Devils (24 page)

I rummaged around and found binoculars in a watertight hatch.

"It's Po Thang, all right. He's out on deck with a couple of what look like Mexican fishermen. Unfortunately, he's alerting them we're out here."

Jan who was still looking through the locker let out a whoop. "Pay dirt! Looky what we got here."

I put down the binocs and craned my neck to see what she found. "Yeah baby! I think that's an Uzi. I actually shot one once. Someone should tell Javier not to leave automatic weaponry lying around when we children are present. Here, Jan, you take the helm and move us slowly toward
Pelicano
while I check this lovely gun out
.
"

Picking up the submachine gun I reached into my memory banks for that day in Texas when my cousin let me fire his Uzi. He'd used 9mm ammo, which I happened to have with me on Javier's boat, but was it the same for both my gun and this one? I unfolded the stock and it clicked in place. The bolt was closed. Rats, empty.

On my own 9mm, when the bolt is open, it is empty, but an Uzi is just the opposite.

Checking the locker, I found a metal box with six fully loaded magazines.

Moving next to Jan, I told her, "I'd say we're ready to rumble."

"Yeah, how's that? You just gonna open fire on a boat that has your dog, and maybe my boyfriend, Nacho and even Mac's wife on board? And, doncha just think they might, like, shoot back?"

Picking up the binoculars once again, I scanned the deck. Po Thang was running back and forth, barking and staring our way. So much for a stealth landing. However, I didn't see he was being threatened, nor did I spot any guns. The men looked more curious than anything.

"Let's sit Javier up in the captain's chair and tie him in."

While she did the deed, I found a yellow foul weather jacket, put it over his shoulders and jammed a hat on his head, which was lolling to one side. Not very convincing.

"We need to prop his head up. He looks like the dead guy in that movie,
Weekend at Bernies.
"

Looking around, I grabbed a paddle and we shoved it down the back of the jacket's collar and Jan used a bungee cord to fasten Javier's head to it, but he started falling forward. Another short piece of line fixed that problem.

I stood at Javier's side, steering the boat with one hand. We were getting close enough to the
Pelicano
for them to make us out, so I gave them a friendly wave with my free hand.

"Jan, sit in Javier's lap and steer the boat."

"What? He's a criminal."

"
Now
you get choosey? Have you forgotten about Jean Claude?"

"Hey, he's out on good behavior."

"Just do it. We need these guys to think we're one big happy family until we can get the drop on them. I still only see two crew on deck. Do you remember how many you saw when you bought the shrimp?"

"Six, and I think that was all of them, cuz they all wanted to get a gander at the blonde
gringa
."

"So, four of them are…somewhere. Veer off and let's circle at a safe distance until we can figure something out."

"Gimme a cushion. I do not want to make contact with this guy's lap." She stared down and pointed. "Uh, I think he's waking up."

Jan circled toward the aft of the big shrimper and we made a discovery: Nacho's boat was side-tied to the starboard side. Through the binoculars I saw several large plastic bags on deck, and they looked ominously full.

"What do you see, Hetta?" Jan asked.

"Uh, not much. Don't get any closer."

"Javier's wiggling. Can't you whack him again?"

"I'm afraid I'll kill him. Lemme think."

"Hey, look, a dive flag. Maybe the rest of the crew are all underwater."

"Oh, man, what I'd give for some dynamite or a depth charger."

The diver waved, swam to Nacho's boat, threw a dive bag on deck, gave us a two-thumb's up, and went back down.

"What's in the bag?"

I fiddled with the binocular lenses. "Oysters. They're harvesting pearls."

"If we had any doubts about Javier here being behind everything, I suppose this puts it to rest. Let's take out those two on deck, find our people and get the hell out of here. Let the authorities deal with this scumbag." She poked him on the nose and he groaned.

"Think if we whistled Po Thang would hear us?"

"Maybe, but that's a mighty long drop from the shrimper's deck to the water. He might get hurt."

"If we don't get him off there, it could be worse. It's a chance we have to take."

We both began whistling, Jan better than me. She'd mastered that two finger thing I never got. Po Thang stopped in mid-pace, tilted his head, and without hesitation, jumped off the boat. It was a long fall.

Holding my breath, I waited for what seemed forever until he popped up and began swimming toward us. "Yes! Come on boy, you can make it."

As Po Thang swam toward us, I looked up at
Pelicano
and saw the two crewmembers had disappeared, but not for long. When they rushed back to the rail, they were brandishing weapons and took aim at Po Thang.

We were about fifty yards away and I had no idea whether it would do any good, but I put the Uzi in fun mode—fully automatic—executed a spray-and-play, and the men hit the deck as splinters flew.

I reloaded, put it on semi-auto, and told Jan to move us closer to Po Thang and put the boat between him and those rats on the ship. However, the gunfire had confused my dog and he was swimming away, back toward the enemy.

Jan whistled, and Po Thang changed direction toward us again, but suddenly went under.

"Hit it, Jan. We gotta get him. Maybe he's hurt."

"Hold on, Chica."

I tried to keep aim at
Pelicano
while maintaining my balance as we went in hot to where Po Thang went overboard, and twenty feet out he bobbed up, but he had company. A diver held him with one hand and brandished a dive knife in the other.

Jan veered off, the sudden boat's movement to the side throwing me to the deck. I lost my grip on the gun and it skittered away. Javier fell sideways, knocking Jan hard into the stainless steel steering wheel. She grunted, doubled over, grabbed her ribs, and gasped for air before she lost her balance as well when she was forced to let go of the wheel.

I crawled over and brought back the throttles, almost swamping us in the process, and by the time I could make my way back to retrieve the Uzi and stand up, Jan was nowhere to be seen. On
Pelicano,
the armed crewmen were upright again and waving their guns from side to side, trying to decide who to shoot at first. A short burst from my gun sent them sprawling on the deck again.

The panga tipped and I whirled, hoping to help Jan back on board, but a diver in a black wet suit had propelled himself over the gunwale. I swung the Uzi, but not fast enough. He tackled me and I went down hard on the right side of my head. We struggled for a few moments, but I was no match for him. He was strong, and the slick, wet, Lycra of the suit made it hard to hold on to him.

He was reaching for the Uzi when Jan materialized behind him, launched herself over the gunwale, and landed on both of us. I rolled away and he tried to stand, but our  two-on-one pileup took him down.

Jan whopped him unconscious with a boat paddle and tied him hand and foot. Now we had two restrained perps on board and were running a tad low on lines.

"You look for Po Thang and that damned diver with the knife. I've got to keep those guys on
Pelicano
pinned to the deck, and I've only got four magazines left for this gun."

A yell and a yip caught our attention. The diver with my dog was trying to tell us something, which I surmised was, "Drop the gun or the dog gets it," or something to that effect. Po Thang struggled against his hold, and I was afraid the diver would stab him to stop the fight.

I held the Uzi high overhead in a gesture of surrender and whispered for Jan to stay low, where he couldn't see her while she slipped the 9mm from of my jacket pocket.

I pleaded with the man holding Po Thang. "Let the dog go and I'll throw the gun in the water."

The diver shook his head.

Po Thang shook
his
head, whopping the man across his mask with a wet ear.

The man cursed and raised his arm as if to knife Po Thang when Bubbles took to the air and whacked him with her powerful tail. The diver was laid out, face down, and only his suit kept him afloat.

We motored over and dragged both Po Thang and the unconscious diver on board, but it wasn't easy, what with me having to pin down the men on
Pelicano
every few minutes, Po Thang wanting to go back into the water with Bubbles, and the diver having indulged in a few too many tacos and beers in his life.

By the time Jan tied Po Thang to a rail, and bound the second diver, we
were
out of rope. So many bad guys, so little line.

I was checking Po Thang over for wounds when a gunshot caught my attention, but we'd backed away and the crewmen's small handguns were totally useless at this distance. I gave them a short burst to calm them down. "These guys are slow learners."

But just as I said this, they made a liar out of me, which doesn't take much doing. One of them leaned over the side and aimed at the black plastic bags in Nacho's boat, confirming my unwanted fears. I had half-hoped the bags contained nothing but oysters.

Jan, who hadn't seen the black bags yet, was confused. "What is he doing?"

"You don't want to know." I put the Uzi on semi-automatic and took aim, afraid if I sprayed on fun mode I'd hit Nacho's boat.

I nailed him with my second shot and he fell overboard, landing in Nacho's boat. The other guy took a bead on us and we instinctively ducked even though we knew he couldn't hit us from that distance, but when he pulled the trigger there was no report. He looked stupidly at the gun and stupidly threw it at us.

"Just like in the movies. Out of ammo? Throw the gun. Janster, I think we might just be winning this here war. Four down, two to go."

Jan tried to laugh, but grabbed her side and blanched.

"Are you all right?"

"I," she gasped, "don't think so. It hurts to breathe."

"Okay, we gotta get out of here, but first we have to get Nacho's boat."

She didn't have the breath to ask why.

Nearby there was a geyser of water and Bubbles, a mask and mouthpiece in her beak, took to the air nearby. A few seconds later, a diver surfaced, gasping for air.

"Make that five down, one for the Bubblenator."

"Ooh, that has a nice ring to it," she said, but with difficulty. "Or, how about, Hettanator."

"Jan, do not talk. Go sit down and let me handle things."

We both turned at the sound of the shrimp boat's engine firing up as the anchor chain clanked over the chocks.

"Oh, hell, I sure hope he doesn't come this way. We gotta go get Nacho's boat untied from him before he takes off with it!"

"Wh...why?" she finally managed

"I think maybe our people are in it."

She just nodded, not having enough breath to do more.

"I don't know for sure, but I saw several plastic bags like the one Nacho was in when we found him. I'm going to take us over there next to Nacho's boat, but you will have to steer this one while I jump in and cut it loose. Do you think you can manage?"

She tried to say yes, but grimaced in pain and gave me a thumbs up sign instead.

"Okay, here we go." I pulled the filet knife kit from my pocket. "Always be prepared."

While I maneuvered the boat with one hand, I kept aim with the other, but it was obvious the crew member only wanted to get away.

Pelicano
, with only a small amount of anchor chain deployed, took off before its anchor even cleared the water. The water depths just off of the
bajo
plummeted, so he was immediately at full speed, with Nacho's boat banging against the hull and in danger of being swamped by the shrimper's bow wave.

We caught up, but realized I had overestimated my ability to leap from one moving boat to another. It looks so easy in the movies.

Each time we got close enough, I chickened out, and Jan, it was soon obvious, had been seriously injured. She was white as a fish belly and gasping for air while trying to control the boat.

I looked at my dog. Where was Lassie when I needed her?

Nacho's boat was tipping to the point of almost dumping the black plastic bags overboard. If my hunch was right and our friends were in them they'd sink like rocks.

I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and jumped, landing hard on one knee, which made a loud noise, sent a shock up my leg, and immediately started spurting blood. The pain was close to unbearable and a black veil threatened my vision, but somehow I managed to pull myself over to the line holding Nacho's boat to
Pelicano
and sliced through it before my lights went out.

When I opened my eyes, which wasn't something I wanted to do because it was pain that woke me, the boat was rocking side to side. A banging sound made me think, for just a moment, that I'd failed to cut us loose, but then I realized the rocking was caused by another source: Po Thang. And the banging noise was Javier's panga knocking against Nacho's. My dog was causing all the turmoil as he frantically tore at a bag with both his paws and teeth, and had managed to make a hole in the tough black plastic of another.

Pushing to seated, I retrieved my filet knife from the deck, butt-scooted, my knee screaming in protest—oh wait, that was me!—to help him. Shoving Po Thang out of the way, I used my knife and made a bigger gash in the bag and shrieked loudly when a small white hand shot out and grabbed my tee shirt.

After I caught my breath, I said, "Johnnie, let me go. I'm here to help."

Big brown eyes met mine. "Mac?"

"We don't know where he is," I said, stretching the truth a bit.

"Water."

"In a minute. I've got to get to these other bags."

"Hetta," I heard Jan say. She sounded weak, and her voice raspy.

"Jan! Are you okay over there?"

"Not…so…good. Maybe…call…help."

Johnnie rallied quickly. "Give me the knife, you get on the radio."

Po Thang heeded Jan's distress, jumped back into Javier's boat, and was licking her face, which was a horrible shade of gray.

Pulling myself up to the captain's chair, I reached past the now-awake-and-cursing Javier, put out a Mayday call giving our boat names and coordinates, and requested medical assistance. I also relayed what I knew about Jan's injuries; she'd suffered a blow to her midsection, probably her ribs, and was having trouble breathing.

By the time I got the call out, Johnnie had cut slits in all but one bag, at least ensuring air could get in. There was movement in most of the bags, so I figured if Johnnie survived, most likely so had the others. I scooted over to another bag, cut a long slit in it and almost passed out again from the smell. Whoever was in there was way past needing a little oxygen.

Drawn by the scent of whatever makes dogs love to sniff really dead stuff, and sometimes roll in it, Po Thang bounded back, rocking both boats. I was way past yelling at him and figured if he wanted to stick his nose into that putrid-smelling bag, so be it.

"Café?" I heard from behind me and turned to see Nacho crawling out of a bag. "What took you so long?"

I would have hugged him, stink and all, but Johnnie called for help as she worked on another bag and was pulling Chino out by his feet. He looked disoriented, but was moving and breathing so I concentrated on the last bag. Wait a minute; Nacho, Chino and Johnnie accounted for three bags and we had two left.

The really smelly one—I was hoping for oysters—was being worried by Po Thang, who was growling loudly as he did so.

Using the knife to carefully open the top, I pulled it down and found Mac, unconscious, but breathing.

"Mac?" I screeched. "But you're dead!"

Johnnie screamed, "Mac's dead? Oh, no!"

"No, no, he's not. But we thought he…oh, never mind. Nacho, are you able to help Jan? She's in trouble over there. And find some drinking water."

Johnnie threw salt water in her husband's face and he finally opened those beautiful green eyes. "Lass," he said softly.

I have to admit I felt a stab of jealousy.

Trying to go see about Jan, I slipped on something, sending yet another wave of pain through my knee. Looking down, a bolt of fear tripped my heart. A long slimy tentacle was wrapped around my foot.

The other end was in Po Thang's mouth.

Someone was in for some serious tooth brushing.