Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (34 page)

The
pirate stood with arms crossed and glared confidently, his
bejeweled
fingers sparkling in the light of his command bridge. Raulya
adjusted the sound and set the split screen function so they could
see Gantarro as well.

"Geez,"
groaned Mike, "Look at the way this guy's dressed."

"Can't
say much for his tailor," added Derrik, tamping a pinch full of
tobacco
into
his pipe.

Jack
shook his head in amazement, "The guy looks like he just walked
out of a pirate movie
."

Raulya
shushed them with a wave of her hand, "He's going to speak."

"Good
day, Captain. Let me commend you on your intelligent choice of
cooperation.
Resistance is not only unwise, but very dangerous. Allow me to
introduce myself, I am Captain Joshua Kidd." The expression on
Gant's face changed noticeably. "Ah, I see my reputation has
preceded me. Don't be alarmed Captain, most of the stories you've
heard are greatly over exaggerated. Trust me. If you cooperate
fully, no harm will come to you, your crew, or your passengers."

"Yeah,
sure. And the check's in the mail," mumbled Brian.

"Easy
buddy, time to play the game..." Jack had his hand
covering
the mini-mic on his headset and half turned to Derrik without
looking away from the screen, "Is it my imagination or does
this guy have an English accent?"

Derrik
took a long draw on his pipe and the aromatic smoke curled
from
his lips. "Sounds more like Scotch or Welsh actually..."

"Hmmm..."
Jack stroked his mustache and pulled on his lower lip in
contemplation
then shook his head. "Nah, couldn't be. It's too far
fetched..."

"What
is?" asked Pappy.

"I'm
just thinking back through my high school history and there seem to
be a bunch of parallels here, probably
coincidences
but..."

"But
what?" interrupted Brian. "C'mon, out with it!"

"Well...
the insignia on the ship, this guy's name, his accent... there was a
pirate
in the seventeenth century, Captain William Kidd, died at the turn
of the century..."

"Hanged
in 1701 I believe," said Derrik.

"Yeah,
about then."

"And
I do believe he was Scottish," added the British pilot, staring
at
the
glowing embers in his pipe. "Are you thinking this chap is a
relative of some sort?"

"It
crossed my mind, but even with all the parallels...” Jack had
to admit the evidence was so thin it was nearly nonexistent, it was
all supposition and conjecture. Simple circumstantial coincidences
that were ridiculous to even consider, like something written into a
low budget 'B' movie plot. But still, there was something telling
him he was on the right track – the little voice in his head
and his gut had ganged up on him and were both nudging him in the
same direction... he had learned to listen to and trust those
lifelong companions.

Maria
rose from her seat. "Oh you can't be serious! How would he
get
out here?"

"Same
way we did," snorted Brian. "Ships disappeared at sea all
the
time. Who's to say what happened to them or where they went?"

Paul
wanted to inject some sanity to this discussion. "I think we're
reaching
a bit here..."

“
Maybe
Pappy," said Jack, "maybe not. Point is, he's human. So
chances
are,
he's doing it out of simple greed. That makes it easier on us
because we know what to bait him with and what his reactions are
more likely to be.”

"Well,
you're going to get to try out your theory," interrupted
Myomerr,
“he's sending over a boarding party." The conversation
died and all attention turned back to the pirate on the vidscreen.
Captain Joshua Kidd was fairly well spoken but terribly long-winded
and incredibly pompous. The pilots had allowed their attention to
drift, but Myomerr had listened to every word, "Their boarding
shuttle will land in our bay in about fifteen minutes. He also asked
about the exact dimensions of the landing bay and its doors. Gant
promised to cooperate fully."

Paul
nodded. "I knew it, he's wants the whole ship..."

"He
must have a bigger crew than we thought,' added Mike.

"Time
out," interrupted Jack with a wave. "Let's not jump to
conclusions..."
Captain Kidd signed off and the screen flickered as the picture
winked out to be replaced by the view of the pirate cruiser. "And
at this point it really doesn't matter. He's a criminal dirtbag who
needs to go down. Ok, let's get to the landing bay. We've got
company coming and we want everything to look nice."

Maria
rolled her eyes. "You
are
nuts, aren't you?"

“
Crazy,
"
he corrected, “not nuts. Nuts implies I don't have a choice.”
He winked and everyone laughed as they filed out of the ready room
into the corridor.

As
the pilots and security people boarded the air cars bound for
the
flight bay, Gant joined them. He would have to meet the pirate
boarding party and guide them to the bridge so they could assume
command, or at least, that's what they were to believe.

There
were just a little over one hundred security personnel
assigned
to duty on the Princess Hedonist and Jack could contact them all via
his communications headset. Split into groups of ten, he would be
able to assign them wherever he needed. All passengers had been
confined to quarters and the corridors were deserted.

Jack
could feel the butterflies in his stomach as the air cars
whistled
through the empty corridors towards the flight bay. Taking a deep
breath, he closed his mind to the silent torrent of
what
ifs
attempting to muddy his decisions. The ride was fairly void of
conversation, each person wrestling with their own doubts and fears
or perhaps praying to their own God.

The
silence in the corridor was almost ominous and it was obvious
the
group was somewhat unnerved. Fortunately the flight bay was directly
the opposite and there was too much to do to be preoccupied with
plagues of the mind.

The
entire body of the security department was waiting when the
group
arrived from the bridge and questions came from all sides. The
pilots left Raulya and Myomerr to deal with their people and moved
on to quickly check on other preparations.

The
two crates of twenty-four M-1 carbines had been unloaded from the
Sweet Susie
and
lay in a neat row on a tarp stretched across the deck in front of
the control tower. The ammunition had been carefully loaded into the
mags, several of which lay beside each weapon. Containers of various
sizes removed from the storage areas along the Port and Starboard
sides of the landing bay were scattered in neat groups and rows
around the flight deck. The towering columns of stores appeared
completely full and untouched, as all the containers had been drawn
from the rear, so their true presence on the flight deck could not
be guessed.

From
the level of the deck, everything appeared normal. Full storage
areas
on the outer edges, shuttles and work craft scattered about in
various stages of maintenance or repair, tow and transport vehicles
moving about and excess storage containers placed in easily
accessible places about the deck. Yes, it looked like a completely
innocent landing bay... but nothing like its usual neat and tidy
appearance.

The
reason for the deviously placed clutter was not apparent, until
viewed
from the upper level of the control tower.

The
six pilots stood on the observation deck of the control tower
and
surveyed the massive flight bay below. At about a half a mile long
and a half a mile wide including the storage areas, the bay was just
short of seven million square feet. As impressive as its size was,
that's not what was holding their attention. It was the curious
arrangement of the storage containers that spread out from the base
of the control tower and flanked the touch down pad.

"Check
it out," pointed Mike,
"it's
a maze..."

Paul
smiled wickedly as the realization dawned on him, "Not a maze
kid,
a
gauntlet
!
Look, see..." he pointed. "It protects the exits and
restricts their use. If you don't know the route, you get cut
off..." He turned to Jack, "Very clever, Mr Steele, so,
what's the game plan?"

Jack
went on to explain as quickly as possible. Basically, it would
be
divide and conquer. Surprise would be their key element to success,
although there would be a good deal of play acting and some careful
misdirection to boot. The two Navy F18 Hornets and the Sweet Suzie
would be the bait to divert Joshua Kidd's attention. Worth a fortune
on the collector's market, they would be very desirable. The catch
was, he'd have to get his ship into the bay to load them. Chances
were, this was his intention to begin with, but Jack wanted a
clincher.

The
stats showed, the pirate cruiser would fit in the bay with room
to
spare, but the door clearance was going to be a bit tight. Jack felt
the incentives were enough for the pirate to overlook any possible
risks. He hoped he was right.

"Pirate
shuttle with boarding party on final approach." The tiny
voice
spoke into the ear of every crew person wearing a communications
headset.

Jack
keyed his mic, "Have all the weapons been distributed?"

“
Yes,
sir...”

"Good.
Ok, places everybody. It's show time!"

"I
say! You weren't thinking of starting without me. Were you?"
The
pilots
turned to meet the voice as Professor Edgars stepped off the lift
and onto the observation deck, an M1 carbine cradled casually in his
right arm. He looked perfectly at home in the loose fitting, British
issue, military fatigues.

Jack
raised one eyebrow as Fritz ran to his side. "Professor! What
are
you doing here?"

"Uncle
did a tour of duty in Vietnam in the late sixties," stated
Derrik
matter-of-factly.

"Leftenant
Edgars reporting for duty, sir." He executed a very
proper
British military salute. "Never could stand to miss a promising
scrap." He winked. "Your pooch has been following me since
brunch at the Ecosphere so he just came along, naturally."

"Naturally."
Steele sighed. "Ok, well, I'm not going to turn down any offer
- we can use all the
help
we can get. Professor, stick with Derrik. Let's go, people."
They hustled to the lift and began their decent.

PRINCESS
HEDONIST, LAN SYSTEM:
HIJACKED

Fritz
sat at Jack's side and happy to have located him, searched for
an
approving hand. When the hand stroked his head and scratched behind
his ears, he closed his eyes and leaned appreciatively against his
friend's right leg. Jack crouched down behind the storage containers
at the edge of the touchdown pad as the pirate shuttle settled to
the deck. Fritz looked up into the face he knew so well and welcomed
the strong arm draped across his shoulders. "You," said
Jack, poking the dog playfully on the nose, "gotta do exactly
as you're told. Ok? No Mr. Mischief stuff, I don't want you gettin'
hurt. Understand?"