Bullet Catchers

Chapter 7

Bullet Catchers

Seven

"Why do they always send us brown people to do work like this?"

Jibaro couldn't even roll her eyes at Hadji's remark. It had nothing to do with skin color. Arai couldn't even walk, while Tank was too intoxicated to speak straight and Dingo was a raging mess. This only left Jibaro and Hadji to find Pluto and get him out of whatever danger he was in. That didn't mean she wasn't a bit irritated, however. What reason would someone possibly have to kidnap Pluto? And Koala of all people?

It wasn't hard for them to track down where they had taken Pluto to. There was no attempt by the three Southern Bells to cover their tracks. After knocking Pluto out they had thrown him into a truck and sped off hastily toward the docks. Once there, they unloaded and left the truck in plain sight. Even if they had tried to hide the vehicle, it wouldn't have been difficult to spot the unknown yacht that had docked on the island.

Since they had hurried, their firepower was limited. Both Jibaro and Hadji carried only M&P 40 pistols, their typical sidearm they had at all times. The yacht itself was perhaps the largest in the harbor, reaching over fifty meters in length. It was unlikely the ship belonged to Koala himself, meaning that he would not hold he advantage of complete knowledge of the floorplan. With a small amount of confidence, the two made the approach.

Nearing the boat, they crouched down outside in order to come up with a plan. Hadji started by asking, "Lower deck?"

"Of course. They're probably interrogating him about something," Jibaro said.

"What are you doing?"

That voice didn't belong to either of them. Leaning over the railing of the yacht and staring down at the two was a crewmember of the ship, dressed in his ironed white shirt and black tie. The young man didn't appear very concerned or startled by their appearance. The tone of his voice indicated more irritation that anything.

Hadji and Jibaro said nothing; with their guns still hidden and their minds not fulling processing what they were looking at, they appeared to opt for a stare down instead of an attack. The young man was not interested and ordered, "Get lost, creeps. This is private property. Don't make me call the authorities."

The first to make a move was Hadji. He stood up and put his hands in the air about chest high to show he didn't plan on being hostile. The crewmember seemed to be intimated by the move, as he too stood up straight. It was almost as though he wanted to show that he had the upper ground, and his glare was a desperate attempt to hide any fear he might have held.

"We're just looking for a friend. He got drunk and headed this way. He's a small blonde, have you seen him?" Hadji asked. There was a smile in his voice as he tried to let the crewmember know he had no intention of harming him.

"f*****g leave," was the crewmember's answer.

Hadji responded by punching through the railing just above eye level, which resulted in him making solid contact with the crewmember's groin. Silenced and in unbelievable pain, the crewmember slumped over, his hand on the railing the only thing that prevented him from doing a face-plant. Hadji snagged that hand and harshly yanked the young man over the railing, successfully smashing his head onto the wooden dock. Now disorientated, the crewmember couldn't fight when Hadji shoved him down the small crack between the boat and dock.

The cold water must have brought some sanity back into the crewmember as he tried desperately to reach up for something or someone to pull him out of the water. What he found instead where zip ties that bound his hands together, as Hadji made it impossible for him to paddle. Then, the mercenary forced the young man's head under water and held him there until the splashing and thrashing slowed and the bubbles faded completely.

Hadji stood after knowing the man was dead. His arms and chest were covered in sea water that had been splashed on him. For a moment he remained motionless, the only movement his body dared to make was the rise and fall of his chest. Knowing he had just drowned a man had upset his breathing patterns; he needed to get them under control.

"Was the necessary?" Jibaro asked, her voice harsh like a mother's.

The question was not answered. Hadji climbed onto the boat without a moment to spare. His body shaking from the experience, his arms nearly gave way when he hoisted himself up. Jibaro noticed but decided not to call him out. If Hadji was ready to move forward, she should be, too. The crewmember would have to be tallied as collateral.

Once on the deck of the yacht they made haste to get inside. At least one other crewmember was seen mulling around outside, but he appeared too drunk to be of any danger. With the main deck lit up, they could see perfectly and were able to quickly take in the layout. A living area with couches was the first room, and beyond that appeared to be a kitchen or eating area. To the right of that first room was a set of stairs that went to the top deck.

Wordlessly they moved forward, gliding silently on the wooden floor of the ship. They positioned themselves behind the large "u" shaped couch and waited patiently to see if the kitchen area was clear. While they were blind to part of the room they heard no noises and felt confident they could move forward. Hurriedly they were on their feet and shuffled into the kitchen.

Hadji was the first in and the first to grind to a halt. His boots were not prepped for the slick floor and he found himself sliding a few inches before he stopped. Jibaro wasn't quick enough to mimic his actions, and when she went sliding she ran into him. Angered at the abruptness of his actions, Jibaro wanted to berate him. Yet when she finally finished rubbing her sore nose she found that he was staring rather alarmed at something across the room. When she looked, she found herself staring down the barrel of a .45 caliber pistol.

"Did you really think I didn't expect you guys to come try and rescue your boy? Dingo is an American, after all. No man left behind," Koala said with a mocking grin on his face. Besides Koala was O'Dell, and she too had a pistol drawn and aimed at them. No order was given, but Hadji and Jibaro knew they couldn't out draw them, so they surrendered their weapons.

O'Dell was quick to snag the weapons the moment they hit the floor. Knowing that the intruders were disarmed, Koala had no problem lowering his own weapon. As he went to place his pistol into its holster, Jibaro asked, "Why did you take Pluto here?"

Koala didn't seem interested in answering her. Instead, he turned his back to them as he approached the bar where he had been sitting earlier. There sat a bottle of scotch. He grabbed the bottle, snagged his empty glass and then two fresh ones. Meticulously he poured the scotch into the glassware, ensuring all got equals amounts. Then he strolled over to the two and forced a glass into each of their hands. They refused to drink, but Koala indulged himself.

He let the taste and warmth of the first sip linger before he spoke. "I needed to speak with him. Clearly, since someone is after you guys, I wasn't going to be able to talk to him at The Dive, was I?"

"Why Pluto?" Hadji asked. Movement next to him caused him to glance over. Jibaro decided to down the scotch given to her. As for Hadji, he merely cupped the glass with both hands but never raised it.

"Dingo's not going to speak. You two aren't going to speak. But that kid grew up in a different environment. He's about survival, not teamwork. Seems he's a stubborn f**k, though, that Cheskey," he explained. Another drink was had and just as the last drop was down his throat he added, "He's also considered the main instigator for the incident in Malta, which probably has more international political ramifications then I think any of you are aware. If it's tied to Guatemala, that makes it even worse."

"You seem to know a lot for a mercenary," Hadji said.

Koala said nothing. Even if had wanted to, he never had the chance. A loud noise followed by the sudden rocking on of the entire boat nearly made the four tumble over. Before they'd regained their footing, Koala calmly ordered, "Give them back their weapons."

Koala had pulled his own pistol out with mere seconds to spare. Just as Hadji and Jibaro had, several fresh intruders scrambled onto the boat and scurried into the dining area. Koala didn't hesitate as he unloaded a barrage of bullets at the newcomers. One had time to fire a few shots from his silenced pistol back; one struck Koala on his bicep and his aim failed him. Fortunately for him, Jibaro had received her gun back and was able to shoot down the gunman.

The boat made a shrill creak and the foursome felt the boat start to slide downward. Despite his arm being immobile and the blood loss from the wound nearing significant, Koala moved further into the boat. Unsure if anyone was following him or if any of them could hear him, he yelled out his reasoning, "We have to get that kid and Connelly out of the hold! It's probably full of water!" The remaining trio was quick to follow.

Koala was on the stairs headed toward the hold when the boat sent out another terrifying moan and rocked. Unable to keep his balance, he fell down the stairs and landed face first into a pool of water. His assumption was correct; whatever had blasted a hole in the haul of the ship had flooded the bottom of it and it was filling up fast. Koala couldn't even wade through it. A glance around revealed a struggling Pluto trying to break his binds. Connelly was nowhere to be found.

Koala made good time getting to Pluto, considering the condition of his arm. The water was warm enough it didn't chill his entire body, but it was full of floating debris that made it difficult to navigate. By this time, Pluto wasn't just standing to avoid the water; he had climbed up the pole to the best of his ability. His head and hands were barely above water. It wasn't until Koala got to him did he realize he didn't have a knife on him. He looked toward the stairwell to find that the other three didn't dare to dive into the flooded lower deck.

As Koala frantically thought of a way to untie Pluto before they both drowned, Pluto was repeating in a desperate tone, "Get me out of here! Get me out of here!" It took all of Koala's restraint not to punch him in the head again.

Koala spotted their savior. A fire axe attached to the wall was his only option. Hurriedly he grabbed it and ordered, "Don't move!" before swinging the axe down with one hand onto the zip tie. It snapped the binds. Pluto, with his broken arm and multiple head wounds, could do nothing other than float. Koala commanded, "Grab on to me and don't let go!" The order was followed without delay or complaint.

"Dickey!"

Koala looked over toward the nearest window where the sound of his given name was heard. The glass had already been blown out, and dangling just outside his reach was a rope. Considering he had no other options, he paddled the few feet over and stuck his hand out to grab it. The feeling of the lifeline gave him a little relief but it didn't last long.

He had managed to wrap the rope around his wrist mere seconds before some force pulled him down. Unprepared to be sucked under, he felt his stomach fill with salt water. It took all he had not to cough out of instinct. It didn't take long before he realized the boat had turned over. Now completely submerged, he was blinded by the debris and bubbles. His glasses had washed off his face. Violently the water that held them captive thrashed, pushing and pulling their bodies around.

Typically one to remain calm regardless of the situation, Koala felt himself panic. It seemed as though no matter how much he kicked his legs, he wasn't moving. The wall of the ship was closing in on them. The tight rope on his wrist was the only chance he had at salvation, and even that was a long shot.

It didn't take long for the wall of the ship to come crashing down on him and Pluto. He could feel the rope tugging, as though someone was trying to pull them up. Regardless, there were many tons of metal pressing them down further into the ocean. If they couldn't wiggle their way to the window fast they'd just pull whomever held the rope down with them.

Finally, his arm went through the window; his shoulder smashed violently against the threshold and he felt it threatened to fracture. Again, it took all of his mental fortitude to prevent his body from attempting to suck in air at the hit. Throwing the entire weight of his body over, he managed to position himself in such a way that they'd both fit through in a last ditch effort to prevent himself from drowning.

Stuck in the ship's slip stream, they remained motionless despite being free. Pluto, out of air, involuntarily inhaled a mouthful of sea water and debris. Instantly he began to thrash. Using all of his strength, Koala forced his wounded and malfunctioning arm to snatch Pluto and hold onto him. Even as the drowning Czech nearly wiggled himself free, Koala refused to let go.

The strain on the rope and the conflicting pressure of the slip stream caused his shoulder to dislocate. Now without any arms to paddle, his entire fate was resting on that rope. To make it worse, he only had a few seconds of air left, if he was lucky.

For the first time, he realized how dark it was. Since the moment he dove into the lower deck he'd been surrounded by darkness, but he had failed to notice it. Now, knowing death was mere moments away from suffocating him, he became eerily aware of every ounce of existence around him; the thrashing of the violent and disturbed waters, the bits of debris that smashed and peppered his weakening body, the complete and total lack of light to lit his way toward the surface. It was as though he was already dead, and all that remained was for the last few jolts of nerves in his brain to cease.

Without warning, his body drove him to gasp for air. There was no way to stop it. The salty taste of the water went unnoticed. All he could feel was the weight of a truck on his chest as his futile attempts to exhale and inhale were met only with the force of the entire sea bearing down on him. Each time his lungs realized they weren't getting air they quickened his desperate attempts. It was almost as though his own body was trying to hurry death.

Suddenly, his gasps were not in vain. The heavy water was replaced by a light breeze; the frightening grip of death was replaced by the hands of O'Dell and Hadji. They pulled him out of the water and hoisted his quaking body onto the wooden dock. When they tried to offer him assistance, he waved them off. He wanted to tell them that he was perfectly fine, but he couldn't speak between his horrendous coughs. After puking up a solid pint of water, he was feeling a little better.

Pluto, however, was unconscious by the time he surfaced. Jibaro was quick in her attempts to resuscitate him.

Koala didn't pay that any mind. First of all, he couldn't see exactly what the hell was happening. His eyes stung and without his glasses he was blind anyway. Sensing his entire body was shaking, he remained still and tried to calm his heartbeat and breathing. Sometimes, he really hated that his instinct was to rescue people instead of just letting them drown. Pluto was a fairly useless piece of human trash, according to what he'd seen and heard.

Someone touched his shoulder. He didn't bother to look up. Hadji's voice said, "So it's we that have someone after us? I think someone is after you, my friend."

"Yeah, someone that the ability to blow a hole in a ship and not care about collateral," O'Dell added. It was evident in her voice that the entire situation had her at least a little shaken up. No one could fault her; two of her friends had just drowned and Koala was damn close.

All Koala could do was face the bubbling and trashing sea waters, trying to pinpoint who would want him and his team dead.