SEVEN AT SEA
by
Gail Pearson
Author's Note:This is based on the Magnificent Seven television show and is set in the Alternate Universe of ATF in which the seven are agents for Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agency. There are references to my Voyage to the Bottom of Sea story, The Long Way Home, and one memorable character from there makes a comeback. Of course, how can I write a Voyage story without my favorite character, the Ship's Cat, to whom I owe much, including my pen name, and a household full of cat toys and cat hair. CD, the inspiration for the Ship's Cat has sadly passed to that great catnip in the sky, at the ripe old age of 18! She has been replaced by two rescue cats, Salt and computer program designed to trace where dumped cargoes come from, exists. I saw a program about it on Discovery Channel. It was an inspiration for this story, among other things.
Think or Thwim
It was an old Coast Guard Cutter disguised to look like a smuggler's boat disguised as a Coast Guard Cutter. It's crew were law enforcement agents disguised to look as smugglers disguised as a Coast Guard crew. A likely enough scenario and one that would had fooled the real criminals who were smuggling drugs and arms from the US to an off shore buyer. At least it would have, if they ever got to the rendevous point.
But, nature had other ideas and a sudden shift in air currents and a lazy meandering of a cold front invading the territory of a hot front caused a little swirl of air currents that blew themselves up into a storm - hurricane Adam.. As a hurricane, it wasn't too strong and it ambled itself in little tight circles in the ocean area between Mexico, Florida, and Texas, never really threatening land and raising just a little hell and water on some unattractive bits and pieces of land that survived the really big storms. Just before it blew itself out, it did one little piece of damage. It sank the disguised cutter.
"Chris!" Buck Wilmington shouted in his boss' ear over the din of the storm. "We're taking on more water than the pumps can throw out! Even pumping by hand ain't gonna keep her afloat!"
Chris Larabee, head of the ATF team known as the Magnificent Seven grunted as he wrestled with the wheel of the foundering cutter. This job had seemed a natural for Team 7, with him and Buck as ex-Seals, Ezra Standish's and J.D. Dunne's sailing experiences and the rest of the team assuring him of their immunity to seasickness. This was hardly a casual fishing trip, it was becoming a nightmare.
"Okay Buck, break out the zodiac, we'll have to abandon ship!" Larabee shouted over the noise of the storm. Buck grinned and shot him a cheeky salute.
Haste was undignified, yet haste seemed to be in order as the ship lurched and shuddered in the most uncomfortable way. Ezra Standish considered himself a fair sailor and yachtsman, but this sinking tub lacked finesse. Nathan Jackson's calm but urgent hand on his shoulder expedited their leaving the noisome little cabin. On reaching the tilting slippery deck they could see that Larabee and the rest were boarding the zodiac. No attempt was being made to stay aboard the doomed ship.
Standish was making his way across the listing, slick deck when a piece of stressed rope broke with a snap and whipped itself across his neck. It was no more than a light piece of line, but with the wet and the wind it stung like a wet snapped towel. Suddenly, unable to breathe, Standish stopped dead. Jackson, hard on his heels, ran into him and grabbed him with one hand around his waist, the other unsuccessfully looking for a handhold. It was just a slight shift in the sinking boat and the inopportune wave that crashed over the scuppers. One moment Ezra and Nathan were on the deck, the next they were gone, swallowed by a great wash of water. Chris Larabee stared in shock at the empty surging seas for a split second and then, realizing his own immediate peril, jumped into the raft. They would have to put some distance between themselves and the sinking ship. Maybe they could then find Ez and Nathan... though Larabee knew that those chances were slim in the teeth of the storm. The two men's lives hung on the lifevests they were wearing, and the mercy of a merciless sea.
"Let's go!" He yelled over the din of the storm.
"Where's Ez and Nathan?" J.D. asked worriedly, looking around the cramped zodiac. Larabee didn't answer, but started rowing with Buck. He glanced at his companions. Vin was staring at the boat sinking and foundering in the waves.
"Jeezus Chris! Why did you leave them?" He pulled on Larabee's arm. Chris shoved him away.
"They're gone. And we gotta get rowing if we are going to make it."
It was just as well that he still couldn't take in a breath, as they were immediately overwhelmed by a hard wall of icy cold water. Ezra was only marginally aware of something dragging him to the roiling surface.
Nathan Jackson retained a death grip on the southerner, later he would proclaim self-preservation, but his foremost thought was not to loose his teammate. One heart stopping moment they were wrenched apart by the waves and then just as casually slammed back together. In a moment of inspiration, Jackson handcuffed the two of them together by their life jackets.
The next hours were undescribable. They near drowned again, and again, and again. Each breath that took in air, spit out water. Did the storm last an hour, two? A lifetime?
Nathan Jackson woke up to the sound of waves. Something was bumping up against his shoulder with insistence.
" 'Athaaan. Waaage ub." A strange voice muttered strange words.
"Huh?" His eyes seemed to be crusted shut with salt and crud. He pried them apart to stare at the extremely disheveled creature that was pawing at his arm. To say that his own mother wouldn't recognize him would be mild. If had hadn't handcuffed himself to Ezra Standish himself he would have guessed that a sea creature was now his companion.
Bulky life vests were a far cry from tailored suits. The man's hair was standing on end in about fifteen different directions. His eyes were little red pouches inside black pits and his skin was a sickly greenish white where it wasn't bleeding or bruised. He held his head awkwardly at an angle exposing a very nasty red slash mark surrounded by swelling.
"Wherre aw we?" The words were half whispered half croaked.
"In the middle of the ocean. You look like hell."Nathan managed a grin. Heck they were alive. Chris and the others would be looking for them.
"You oo too." Ezra's grin was cut off by a wince as his hand went to his throat.
"Uh uh. Don't touch. Let me look." Nathan noticed one good thing about being cuffed by the life vests together, Ezra wasn't going anywhere without him, no matter how much he
backpedalled.
