Chapter 10: Show the Black Flag
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It is Gregory Ch'oc who spots the corpse on the shore. "Not there long. Not if it's still there." A cold commentary on the local fauna, but very true. The alligators can easily walk that far. Not to mention the cats, and monkeys, and tapirs.
"No flies either." the Captain adds. That means it's very fresh. In this climate you find flies on the living.
No visible village. I turn to Doctor Jones. He supposedly knows this area. "Do you think there are people further in?"
"Maybe. Likely." He gestures at the map. "This far down they don't like to build right on the water. Too risky."
It's been fifty years since slave raids were a real risk, but people have long memories. I don't blame them.
"I want to go in." I tell the Captain. "We can't be certain from here the man is dead, and even if he is, there may be others."
From his expression, the Captain is less then enthralled at the prospect of being a good Samaratian. But it is, to some extent, my ship. "OK, Wayne. Same crew as last time." Captain Allnut signals Jose forward. "But I've got to stay. Last night was rough on my wife, and she needs her sleep. Take Leon instead."
Reasonable. Jose smiles at the chance at another expedition. The last one made him something of a local hero, and he is delighted with his new status. And this time, with the Captain staying behind, he will be the jefe.
Captain Allnut turns to his brother-in-law. "Greg, get them their rifles."
The man has a hard time carrying them with his arm in a sling, but no one else can be trusted with such a task. Even so, Leon asks Dinah to double check the name. She does so carefully before handing him his ammunition.
The trip in is the same as before, save that someone has to jump out to beach the boat. I volunteer. I have the suit, and after what I've seen of the local fish, I wouldn't want anyone to go in the water without one.
Everyone knows the risk, and this time they fan out without being told. Jones covers me while I check the victim. From my first touch I can tell that the man is dead. He hasn't been that way long. The blood is still fresh.
"No luck", I shake my head as Jones holds up the first aid kit. It will not be needed here.
Jose points to a trail whose entrance is concealed behind some low brush.
"Village?" I ask Jones.
"Likely."
"Let's go." I tell our crew.
"Cautiously." Jones adds. " We can't be sure of our reception."
Except, my mental voice offers, that it will probably be hostile.
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Perhaps it would have been, had there been anyone left to receive us. I check every body. The raiders have been very through. This time there are no survivors. I turn my attention to the small clearing. This was not even a village. Only three houses. More of a hunting camp.
"Same crew as last time." I point to some long branches trust into the fire. Future torches.
I had left Jose and Leon in the brush to cover us, but now I gesture them forward. There is no one left here to be a threat.
"Even the killers are gone." I shake my head at the mindless waste.
"Then where are they?" Jones views the scene with a excess of knowledge. "Four men can't be enough to scare them off."
I wonder at that myself, until I hear the helicopter blades.
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It is a distance, even at a run. By the time we can see the water the River Queen is smoldering.
Leon races to the shore first, only to be cut down by a hail of machine gun fire. The helicopter we had heard is lifting off overhead, ladder still dangling from it's open door. The rest of us hit the dirt, but it is too late. The gunner directs a last spray at the foliage as the machine vanishes over the canopy.
"Ola!" A cry from Jose. I make my way over. He is still alive, but has taken a round to the upper thigh. Missed the artery, thankfully. Incapacitating, but with antibiotics survivable.
Jones is unhurt. It had looked like he was under the line of fire, but I guess he got lucky. It only tore his sleeve.
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The hail of bullets has punctured the motorboat, and it settles to the bottom as we watch.
I swim to the ship. I have no choice. If Dick is there....
Strange. I smell a sweet scent under the wood smoke. Gas. Logical. There is no way they could have gotten past Dick without it. Not past Dinah either.
Well kept wood burns poorly without an accelerant, and they had taken our gasoline earlier. Now I was grateful for that. The fire extinguishers are still in place, and I use them.
They had worked fast here. Several of the crew are wounded but alive. I will help them later.
I check the cabins first. Dick's is trashed but empty. Even drugged he put up a fight. Mine - the girl is still there. They have slit her throat. Deliberate murder. She could not have posed a threat. Several more bodies are outside on the covered deck, but neither Dick nor Dinah is among them. Thank Ghod. They must have been taken by the raiders. Why I don't know. I won't wait to find out.
I tap my contact button. "Oracle. Tracer on Nightwing and Canary."
"Active." Never has that mechanical voice been more welcome. Ten minutes and I'll have them located exactly.
Continuing down the deck, I come across a corpse I don't recognize. One of the raiders. Even ambushed, the ship put up a fight. I check him carefully, but find no clues. Another local, indistinguishable from the previous raiders. Not surprising. More valuable personnel would have been rescued.
Greg Ch'oc is still in the wheel house. He is badly injured but struggling to rise.
"Pirates! El tomo a mi hermana, y el Capitan!" So the man can speak Spanish. Fortunate. I would not want to rely on the Doctor's ability to translate.
"Descanso." I insist. Greg Ch'oc can do nothing more now. "Cuidare de las cosas." This is the Batman's time.
I check the boat carefully, making sure that the fires are out. When I'm finished, I bring Ch'oc the count of his crew. Four dead, all the others injured to some degree. Most severe, but none likely fatal. With first aid, even the worst should survive until help arrives. Oracle says two days minimum, but the medics are on the way.
The raiders weren't very good thieves. If they were thieves. My gear is still in it's case, as is Nightwing's and Canary's. I take it all. They'll need it when we get to them.
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"Trashed, but nothing taken." Jones says as he steps out of his own cabin. It must be in decent shape, as he emerges with a clean shirt.
I suppose he would need one. Jones has followed me back on board, assisting the wounded, and his old one was covered with blood. Uncomfortable, and also a bad idea given the local wildlife. The beasts can be aggressive enough without giving them any ideas.
"I checked the back. Main wheel is gone", Jones reports. No needs to say more. This ship has ended it's travels.
After a discussion with Ch'oc, we beach the boat. Even damaged, it will provide better shelter than the open jungle. Injured though he is, Jose is stronger then most. He will be Ch'oc's second officer.
"If we leave the rifles, can you hold out until help arrives?" I ask the new command crew. "I have called for medics, but it may take a few days."
"Senor." Jose laughs despite his pain. "For one of these rifles, the next boat that comes by will give us all a ride. To San Paulo. No, to New York!"
"Perhaps, but within three days the Doctors will come." I give the man a severe look. "Wait for them."
Memo: Ask Lucius where one buys a riverboat these days.
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"What do we do now?", Jones asks.
"Follow them." I wonder at the question. What else could I possibly intend to do?
"In this jungle?" His tone is incredulous. "They could be anywhere!"
"I know where they are. Now it's just a matter of getting there." I could call in a strike force, but without knowing exactly where Dick and Dinah are, that could do more harm than good. I know they are alive. Oracle is picking up their bio-monitors, and they are showing stress but are still strong. That's enough to make me trade time for certainty.
Oracle has J'onns number, as well as the Titans. If anything changes, she knows who to call. For now, I can handle it.
OK, you bastards. Now it's time for the suit.
END CHAPTER TEN
With thanks to Mike. More FB = more chapters. *grin*
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It is Gregory Ch'oc who spots the corpse on the shore. "Not there long. Not if it's still there." A cold commentary on the local fauna, but very true. The alligators can easily walk that far. Not to mention the cats, and monkeys, and tapirs.
"No flies either." the Captain adds. That means it's very fresh. In this climate you find flies on the living.
No visible village. I turn to Doctor Jones. He supposedly knows this area. "Do you think there are people further in?"
"Maybe. Likely." He gestures at the map. "This far down they don't like to build right on the water. Too risky."
It's been fifty years since slave raids were a real risk, but people have long memories. I don't blame them.
"I want to go in." I tell the Captain. "We can't be certain from here the man is dead, and even if he is, there may be others."
From his expression, the Captain is less then enthralled at the prospect of being a good Samaratian. But it is, to some extent, my ship. "OK, Wayne. Same crew as last time." Captain Allnut signals Jose forward. "But I've got to stay. Last night was rough on my wife, and she needs her sleep. Take Leon instead."
Reasonable. Jose smiles at the chance at another expedition. The last one made him something of a local hero, and he is delighted with his new status. And this time, with the Captain staying behind, he will be the jefe.
Captain Allnut turns to his brother-in-law. "Greg, get them their rifles."
The man has a hard time carrying them with his arm in a sling, but no one else can be trusted with such a task. Even so, Leon asks Dinah to double check the name. She does so carefully before handing him his ammunition.
The trip in is the same as before, save that someone has to jump out to beach the boat. I volunteer. I have the suit, and after what I've seen of the local fish, I wouldn't want anyone to go in the water without one.
Everyone knows the risk, and this time they fan out without being told. Jones covers me while I check the victim. From my first touch I can tell that the man is dead. He hasn't been that way long. The blood is still fresh.
"No luck", I shake my head as Jones holds up the first aid kit. It will not be needed here.
Jose points to a trail whose entrance is concealed behind some low brush.
"Village?" I ask Jones.
"Likely."
"Let's go." I tell our crew.
"Cautiously." Jones adds. " We can't be sure of our reception."
Except, my mental voice offers, that it will probably be hostile.
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Perhaps it would have been, had there been anyone left to receive us. I check every body. The raiders have been very through. This time there are no survivors. I turn my attention to the small clearing. This was not even a village. Only three houses. More of a hunting camp.
"Same crew as last time." I point to some long branches trust into the fire. Future torches.
I had left Jose and Leon in the brush to cover us, but now I gesture them forward. There is no one left here to be a threat.
"Even the killers are gone." I shake my head at the mindless waste.
"Then where are they?" Jones views the scene with a excess of knowledge. "Four men can't be enough to scare them off."
I wonder at that myself, until I hear the helicopter blades.
^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^)
It is a distance, even at a run. By the time we can see the water the River Queen is smoldering.
Leon races to the shore first, only to be cut down by a hail of machine gun fire. The helicopter we had heard is lifting off overhead, ladder still dangling from it's open door. The rest of us hit the dirt, but it is too late. The gunner directs a last spray at the foliage as the machine vanishes over the canopy.
"Ola!" A cry from Jose. I make my way over. He is still alive, but has taken a round to the upper thigh. Missed the artery, thankfully. Incapacitating, but with antibiotics survivable.
Jones is unhurt. It had looked like he was under the line of fire, but I guess he got lucky. It only tore his sleeve.
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The hail of bullets has punctured the motorboat, and it settles to the bottom as we watch.
I swim to the ship. I have no choice. If Dick is there....
Strange. I smell a sweet scent under the wood smoke. Gas. Logical. There is no way they could have gotten past Dick without it. Not past Dinah either.
Well kept wood burns poorly without an accelerant, and they had taken our gasoline earlier. Now I was grateful for that. The fire extinguishers are still in place, and I use them.
They had worked fast here. Several of the crew are wounded but alive. I will help them later.
I check the cabins first. Dick's is trashed but empty. Even drugged he put up a fight. Mine - the girl is still there. They have slit her throat. Deliberate murder. She could not have posed a threat. Several more bodies are outside on the covered deck, but neither Dick nor Dinah is among them. Thank Ghod. They must have been taken by the raiders. Why I don't know. I won't wait to find out.
I tap my contact button. "Oracle. Tracer on Nightwing and Canary."
"Active." Never has that mechanical voice been more welcome. Ten minutes and I'll have them located exactly.
Continuing down the deck, I come across a corpse I don't recognize. One of the raiders. Even ambushed, the ship put up a fight. I check him carefully, but find no clues. Another local, indistinguishable from the previous raiders. Not surprising. More valuable personnel would have been rescued.
Greg Ch'oc is still in the wheel house. He is badly injured but struggling to rise.
"Pirates! El tomo a mi hermana, y el Capitan!" So the man can speak Spanish. Fortunate. I would not want to rely on the Doctor's ability to translate.
"Descanso." I insist. Greg Ch'oc can do nothing more now. "Cuidare de las cosas." This is the Batman's time.
I check the boat carefully, making sure that the fires are out. When I'm finished, I bring Ch'oc the count of his crew. Four dead, all the others injured to some degree. Most severe, but none likely fatal. With first aid, even the worst should survive until help arrives. Oracle says two days minimum, but the medics are on the way.
The raiders weren't very good thieves. If they were thieves. My gear is still in it's case, as is Nightwing's and Canary's. I take it all. They'll need it when we get to them.
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"Trashed, but nothing taken." Jones says as he steps out of his own cabin. It must be in decent shape, as he emerges with a clean shirt.
I suppose he would need one. Jones has followed me back on board, assisting the wounded, and his old one was covered with blood. Uncomfortable, and also a bad idea given the local wildlife. The beasts can be aggressive enough without giving them any ideas.
"I checked the back. Main wheel is gone", Jones reports. No needs to say more. This ship has ended it's travels.
After a discussion with Ch'oc, we beach the boat. Even damaged, it will provide better shelter than the open jungle. Injured though he is, Jose is stronger then most. He will be Ch'oc's second officer.
"If we leave the rifles, can you hold out until help arrives?" I ask the new command crew. "I have called for medics, but it may take a few days."
"Senor." Jose laughs despite his pain. "For one of these rifles, the next boat that comes by will give us all a ride. To San Paulo. No, to New York!"
"Perhaps, but within three days the Doctors will come." I give the man a severe look. "Wait for them."
Memo: Ask Lucius where one buys a riverboat these days.
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"What do we do now?", Jones asks.
"Follow them." I wonder at the question. What else could I possibly intend to do?
"In this jungle?" His tone is incredulous. "They could be anywhere!"
"I know where they are. Now it's just a matter of getting there." I could call in a strike force, but without knowing exactly where Dick and Dinah are, that could do more harm than good. I know they are alive. Oracle is picking up their bio-monitors, and they are showing stress but are still strong. That's enough to make me trade time for certainty.
Oracle has J'onns number, as well as the Titans. If anything changes, she knows who to call. For now, I can handle it.
OK, you bastards. Now it's time for the suit.
END CHAPTER TEN
With thanks to Mike. More FB = more chapters. *grin*