Chapter 9: Danger in the Dark
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I am in that space at the edge of sleep when when the first backwash breaks against the hull.
"Dick!" My hand reaches instinctively towards him.
His eyes snap open, scanning over my back into the darkness. We listen as the splash comes again.
"Starboard side." I whisper.
Dick is up and into his kevlar before the scraping stops. I buzz Dinah and suit up myself. If she's with Jones, he'll be warned. If not, we can alert him *after* we are prepped.
The new sounds are muffled thumps. Men boarding from a rope ladder. Caution indicated; that may mean allies in the crew.
The full moon gives a bit too much light, but the jungle canopy casts enough shadow to provide cover. Dick slides up the wall. High ground first. I head up the deck to the Captains cabin. Any serious piracy will have this as the target. The small boat they came in won't hold enough to make theft worth while. To steal the cargo, they must take control of the boat.
Dinah buzzes. She is aft near the paddle wheel. Another target. Damage that, and we could be sitting ducks for raiders on the shore. Dr. Jones's apparently has found a snipers spot near the cabin.
I tell Dinah to have Jones hold off. Not to fire until we know their numbers and intent. I'd rather take them without gunplay if I can, but if there are too many that may not be possible. Still, unless they intend a kidnaping for ransom - and that is not unheard of in this part of the world - the cabin should be a secondary target.
Jones watches them come in. According to Dinah, he has counted ten. With possibly two more in the boat. High, but not impossible. I pass the order to wait. Now I definitely want prisoners. Twelve men is too many for simple river piracy. More so when we have no valuable cargo on board. That leaves two targets. The boat itself. Or me.
Two men approach the cabin below me. Quiet, but not invisible. I manage to drop one with my first jump. The other falls back, but not out of range of my kick. Unfortunately, he gets a shot off. Fires wide, but the noise is the problem.
Now we are in for a general melee.
I hear their shots, and answering fire. First from near our cabin. That would be Jones. Then from the crew as they wake and discover their danger.
Our rifles may be locked up, but the Captain and first mate have pistols of their own.
I leave the wheel deck to them. I have other work. Moving shadow to my left. Two more intruders, coming to the aid of their mates. The first attacks directly. He has a knife, and he's good with it. Just not good enough. I leave him unconscious for Captain Allnut to discover.
The second throws up a long plank, using it as a bridge to the second floor. I kick the plank and he falls back into the water. He screams, far to loudly, and there is a whipping sound. Like a Cuizinart. I glance down, and regret it. Apparently the piranha warnings were quite sincere.
I link a rope and try for him, but he's flailing around in too much pain to listen. By the time I can get a firm grip, it's too late. He dies as I pull him to the deck.
A few more minutes of noise, but it becomes clear that the attack has failed. No casualties on our side beyond the acceptable bruises and bumps. Rougher on the other side.
I slip back to my cabin, and manage to emerge shaken and surprised just in time to hear the Captain's count.
Dr. Jones has shot one. Fortunately though the leg, so he should recover. But he's in bad shape right now. Mrs. Captain got two more, more permanently. One of them a crewman, a new hire for this trip. The two in the boat had the brains to leave when they saw they were loosing, and in a steam powered river boat we can't hope to catch them. Two of mine took advantage of my distraction to join them, and are gone as well. Dick and Dinah accounted for all the others.
None of the remaining crew is seriously hurt, although Greg Ch'oc has taken a blow to the arm that will keep him off the wheel deck for a while.
I do the math. From ten, two have fled and three are dead. One is alive but unconscious. That means, all told, we have available four prisoners to interrogate.
I am the 'jefe', so Captain Allnut invites me along. Part moral support, part a influential witness if any trouble should come back on him.
From the looks of them, the pirates are the general run of river rats. Not local, or at least not tattooed. Perhaps port Indians. Their features are less European then their clothes.
The Captain rules on his ship to I let him lead. If I need more answers, I can get them later.
Allnut grabs the smartest looking of the bunch. Nasty, tough looking punk with two missing fingers set off by a jagged circular tattoo. A professional thug on one level of another. "Who sent you, you sodding mother. Who sent you to raid my ship."
The pirate spits at him and then - dies. That simply. No response to resuscitation or CPR. I've known a few Masters who could do that, but a river thief? I wish I had the facilities for an autopsy.
The other three are willing to talk. After what they just saw, they babble. Unfortunately, they have nothing worthwhile to say. The first man was their boss, and he hired them in Chakpac for the job. No reason needed and none given. They can't even say what it was he wanted to steal. Everything, they assume.
"Fuck it." Allnut turns to his brother -in-law. "Lock these bastards in the hold."
Nasty pit. They'll be miserable, but they'll survive.
"Sorry for the bother, Wayne." The Captain turns to me. "I'll give them to the police when we get back to Chakpac."
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"Christ Dick." I'm back in my cabin. The bed is ready, but I can't put myself in it.
"The dead man." Dick sits beside me. "Bruce, it was a suicide. I don't know how, but.... There was nothing you could do."
"Not him. The other." I reach for his hand. "I killed a man, Dick. I kicked him into the water, and... Christ... I didn't know piranha could do that." My knuckles tighten, turning white. Dick does not complain, just squeezes back. And listens. "I knew they bit, but... I don't know. I thought it was faster. Cleaner. The scream...."
"I heard it, Bruce." He holds me. What is there to say?
I have killed before. It shames me, but in this business we all have our body counts. Some pass, some haunt. This one will be with me for a long time.
Dick knows I won't sleep. Neither will he, listening to my nightmares. He should go. He's tired. I know that. But he'll stay with me. And I don't have the strength to send him away.
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The funeral is at dawn.
Unfortunately, this is the Rio Chak in the summer. Civilization made the Captain hold a rough sketch of a service, but afterwards the bodies went overboard. Easier than digging, safer, and from what I saw of the local fauna, more effective.
I attend the prayers but skip the later part. I could deal with the Joker threatening me with piranhas but now I know what they can do. I regret their deaths but Dr. Jones is right. They would not have hesitated at ours.
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I leave Dr. Jones with the Captain. This was an assault on my people. We need to meet alone. Dinah is wearing long pants, which means she's still in kevlar. I'm thinking about it. Dick's not. But he is cleaning that miserable pistol of his. Why did I ever let him get involved with the police? We are silent until they finish with Oracles report.
Dick looks up first. "Time for the suits?"
That is the question.
"Not yet." I answer, meaning rather, not here. "We have too much of an audience. Dr. Jones does not strike me as either stupid or disposable. A virtue when we hired him, but now?"
They both understand. There is a risk when people who keep secrets stay near people who uncover them for a living. Dr. Jones, for all his rogue reputation, would know who to talk to and be believed.
"I've contacted Cachiru and Salamanca, both of which are JLA reserve. They will handle matters - if necessary."
"Any ID on the pirate?", Dick asks.
Dinah answers him. "Nothing specific. Barbara tells me the tattoo was once used by a gang of pirates called the Sengh Brotherhood; but they haven't been seen since the days of sailing ships."
I consider several possibilities. There could be a criminal group active here, and he could have been a member. Those groups have a way of coming back when they are least wanted. Then again, it could be just tough-guy bluff. I dismiss the question. The local heroes have been warned, and they will be alert.
"Is there anything to this Jaguar knife?" I ask her.
"Enough to get people killed. Oracle has no data on it's actual 'magic'. Nor can she find any proof that it is truly involved here."
That's the part that troubles me the most. Some crooks will kill on a rumor. The dagger could have vanished into some European collection and these people could be dead for nothing. I need something more. "Any sightings?"
"None yet." Dinah knows how these things work. "The Cat is on notice. If it gets over to Europe, she'll get it back at request."
"So what do *we* do, Bruce?" Meaning who do we pound. I know how Dick thinks.
"Continue on our trip." I give that a thought. "Unless we get a chance to handle matters first." I know how he thinks because I think the same way. The image of pounding these murderers is one I can enjoy. "We will hold off for now but......Dinah. Keep your gear handy. Just in case. And...keep an eye on the good doctor."
Dinah give me a high sign as she leaves. Some people love their work.
"So. You'll let it go?" From Dick, that's not a question.
"Of course not." I answer. "But if it's just river pirates - I don't think we need the Justice League. Bludhaven's finest should be enough for that."
"Merci du complement." Dick's tone is sarcastic. He knows I wouldn't trust 'Bludhaven's finest' to run a speed trap.
"Besides, if I had to call J'onn for nothing..."
Dick smiles. "He'd come."
I nod agreement. "But I'd hear about it for years and years and years."
END CHAPTER NINE
This chapter offered with thanks to Samantha Bridges. I love hearing from readers. Thanks.
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I am in that space at the edge of sleep when when the first backwash breaks against the hull.
"Dick!" My hand reaches instinctively towards him.
His eyes snap open, scanning over my back into the darkness. We listen as the splash comes again.
"Starboard side." I whisper.
Dick is up and into his kevlar before the scraping stops. I buzz Dinah and suit up myself. If she's with Jones, he'll be warned. If not, we can alert him *after* we are prepped.
The new sounds are muffled thumps. Men boarding from a rope ladder. Caution indicated; that may mean allies in the crew.
The full moon gives a bit too much light, but the jungle canopy casts enough shadow to provide cover. Dick slides up the wall. High ground first. I head up the deck to the Captains cabin. Any serious piracy will have this as the target. The small boat they came in won't hold enough to make theft worth while. To steal the cargo, they must take control of the boat.
Dinah buzzes. She is aft near the paddle wheel. Another target. Damage that, and we could be sitting ducks for raiders on the shore. Dr. Jones's apparently has found a snipers spot near the cabin.
I tell Dinah to have Jones hold off. Not to fire until we know their numbers and intent. I'd rather take them without gunplay if I can, but if there are too many that may not be possible. Still, unless they intend a kidnaping for ransom - and that is not unheard of in this part of the world - the cabin should be a secondary target.
Jones watches them come in. According to Dinah, he has counted ten. With possibly two more in the boat. High, but not impossible. I pass the order to wait. Now I definitely want prisoners. Twelve men is too many for simple river piracy. More so when we have no valuable cargo on board. That leaves two targets. The boat itself. Or me.
Two men approach the cabin below me. Quiet, but not invisible. I manage to drop one with my first jump. The other falls back, but not out of range of my kick. Unfortunately, he gets a shot off. Fires wide, but the noise is the problem.
Now we are in for a general melee.
I hear their shots, and answering fire. First from near our cabin. That would be Jones. Then from the crew as they wake and discover their danger.
Our rifles may be locked up, but the Captain and first mate have pistols of their own.
I leave the wheel deck to them. I have other work. Moving shadow to my left. Two more intruders, coming to the aid of their mates. The first attacks directly. He has a knife, and he's good with it. Just not good enough. I leave him unconscious for Captain Allnut to discover.
The second throws up a long plank, using it as a bridge to the second floor. I kick the plank and he falls back into the water. He screams, far to loudly, and there is a whipping sound. Like a Cuizinart. I glance down, and regret it. Apparently the piranha warnings were quite sincere.
I link a rope and try for him, but he's flailing around in too much pain to listen. By the time I can get a firm grip, it's too late. He dies as I pull him to the deck.
A few more minutes of noise, but it becomes clear that the attack has failed. No casualties on our side beyond the acceptable bruises and bumps. Rougher on the other side.
I slip back to my cabin, and manage to emerge shaken and surprised just in time to hear the Captain's count.
Dr. Jones has shot one. Fortunately though the leg, so he should recover. But he's in bad shape right now. Mrs. Captain got two more, more permanently. One of them a crewman, a new hire for this trip. The two in the boat had the brains to leave when they saw they were loosing, and in a steam powered river boat we can't hope to catch them. Two of mine took advantage of my distraction to join them, and are gone as well. Dick and Dinah accounted for all the others.
None of the remaining crew is seriously hurt, although Greg Ch'oc has taken a blow to the arm that will keep him off the wheel deck for a while.
I do the math. From ten, two have fled and three are dead. One is alive but unconscious. That means, all told, we have available four prisoners to interrogate.
I am the 'jefe', so Captain Allnut invites me along. Part moral support, part a influential witness if any trouble should come back on him.
From the looks of them, the pirates are the general run of river rats. Not local, or at least not tattooed. Perhaps port Indians. Their features are less European then their clothes.
The Captain rules on his ship to I let him lead. If I need more answers, I can get them later.
Allnut grabs the smartest looking of the bunch. Nasty, tough looking punk with two missing fingers set off by a jagged circular tattoo. A professional thug on one level of another. "Who sent you, you sodding mother. Who sent you to raid my ship."
The pirate spits at him and then - dies. That simply. No response to resuscitation or CPR. I've known a few Masters who could do that, but a river thief? I wish I had the facilities for an autopsy.
The other three are willing to talk. After what they just saw, they babble. Unfortunately, they have nothing worthwhile to say. The first man was their boss, and he hired them in Chakpac for the job. No reason needed and none given. They can't even say what it was he wanted to steal. Everything, they assume.
"Fuck it." Allnut turns to his brother -in-law. "Lock these bastards in the hold."
Nasty pit. They'll be miserable, but they'll survive.
"Sorry for the bother, Wayne." The Captain turns to me. "I'll give them to the police when we get back to Chakpac."
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"Christ Dick." I'm back in my cabin. The bed is ready, but I can't put myself in it.
"The dead man." Dick sits beside me. "Bruce, it was a suicide. I don't know how, but.... There was nothing you could do."
"Not him. The other." I reach for his hand. "I killed a man, Dick. I kicked him into the water, and... Christ... I didn't know piranha could do that." My knuckles tighten, turning white. Dick does not complain, just squeezes back. And listens. "I knew they bit, but... I don't know. I thought it was faster. Cleaner. The scream...."
"I heard it, Bruce." He holds me. What is there to say?
I have killed before. It shames me, but in this business we all have our body counts. Some pass, some haunt. This one will be with me for a long time.
Dick knows I won't sleep. Neither will he, listening to my nightmares. He should go. He's tired. I know that. But he'll stay with me. And I don't have the strength to send him away.
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The funeral is at dawn.
Unfortunately, this is the Rio Chak in the summer. Civilization made the Captain hold a rough sketch of a service, but afterwards the bodies went overboard. Easier than digging, safer, and from what I saw of the local fauna, more effective.
I attend the prayers but skip the later part. I could deal with the Joker threatening me with piranhas but now I know what they can do. I regret their deaths but Dr. Jones is right. They would not have hesitated at ours.
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I leave Dr. Jones with the Captain. This was an assault on my people. We need to meet alone. Dinah is wearing long pants, which means she's still in kevlar. I'm thinking about it. Dick's not. But he is cleaning that miserable pistol of his. Why did I ever let him get involved with the police? We are silent until they finish with Oracles report.
Dick looks up first. "Time for the suits?"
That is the question.
"Not yet." I answer, meaning rather, not here. "We have too much of an audience. Dr. Jones does not strike me as either stupid or disposable. A virtue when we hired him, but now?"
They both understand. There is a risk when people who keep secrets stay near people who uncover them for a living. Dr. Jones, for all his rogue reputation, would know who to talk to and be believed.
"I've contacted Cachiru and Salamanca, both of which are JLA reserve. They will handle matters - if necessary."
"Any ID on the pirate?", Dick asks.
Dinah answers him. "Nothing specific. Barbara tells me the tattoo was once used by a gang of pirates called the Sengh Brotherhood; but they haven't been seen since the days of sailing ships."
I consider several possibilities. There could be a criminal group active here, and he could have been a member. Those groups have a way of coming back when they are least wanted. Then again, it could be just tough-guy bluff. I dismiss the question. The local heroes have been warned, and they will be alert.
"Is there anything to this Jaguar knife?" I ask her.
"Enough to get people killed. Oracle has no data on it's actual 'magic'. Nor can she find any proof that it is truly involved here."
That's the part that troubles me the most. Some crooks will kill on a rumor. The dagger could have vanished into some European collection and these people could be dead for nothing. I need something more. "Any sightings?"
"None yet." Dinah knows how these things work. "The Cat is on notice. If it gets over to Europe, she'll get it back at request."
"So what do *we* do, Bruce?" Meaning who do we pound. I know how Dick thinks.
"Continue on our trip." I give that a thought. "Unless we get a chance to handle matters first." I know how he thinks because I think the same way. The image of pounding these murderers is one I can enjoy. "We will hold off for now but......Dinah. Keep your gear handy. Just in case. And...keep an eye on the good doctor."
Dinah give me a high sign as she leaves. Some people love their work.
"So. You'll let it go?" From Dick, that's not a question.
"Of course not." I answer. "But if it's just river pirates - I don't think we need the Justice League. Bludhaven's finest should be enough for that."
"Merci du complement." Dick's tone is sarcastic. He knows I wouldn't trust 'Bludhaven's finest' to run a speed trap.
"Besides, if I had to call J'onn for nothing..."
Dick smiles. "He'd come."
I nod agreement. "But I'd hear about it for years and years and years."
END CHAPTER NINE
This chapter offered with thanks to Samantha Bridges. I love hearing from readers. Thanks.