Chapter Nine

Gordon found himself shoved unceremoniously behind his father and brothers – including Alan – as the lights came on and Captain Bloom spoke up.

Bloom, with his trademark feathered hat, looked particularly pirate-like as he stood silhouetted against a spotlight. The only thing out of place was the sleek, modern handgun that he held trained on them with an ease that spoke of expertise.

Shouts and thundering feet could be heard from below as someone roused the crew. They would come pouring out from the companionway hatch at any moment, and they would likely be armed too. Gordon hid a grimace – the last thing he wanted was for his family to be in danger because of him.

"So you're the famous Jeff Tracy," Bloom said coolly. "And these must be your other sons." His voice turned sarcastic. "It's been a real pleasure getting to know Gordon the past few days."

Jeff spoke up, his voice calm, steady and firm. "Don't try to stop us – just put down the gun and let us go. You've lost this game already; don't make things worse for yourself."

"Have I lost?" Bloom countered. "Seems to me like I've won – after all, I've just gained several more bargaining chips!"

Men crowded up onto the deck, surrounding the family, cutting off the route back to the speedboat.

Virgil and Alan positioned themselves so that they were flanking Gordon, while Scott and Jeff stood side by side facing Bloom. "You're making a mistake," Jeff growled.

Bloom snapped back, "I don't think so. Men, seize them!"

Instant chaos ensued as the circle of men – Gordon counted twelve – surged forward. They really didn't know what they were getting themselves into, Gordon thought with a smirk.

He watched with great satisfaction as Scott felled Ed with a single fierce punch. Alan had Harvey backing away with a series of lightning jabs and Virgil was using his old football skills to good effect, tackling Jake to the deck. Their father was in the thick of things, too, trading blows with Marco. He feinted, then downed Marco with a terrific punch to the gut.

Ricky dove in toward Gordon. Mindful of his sore shoulder, Gordon dodged the blow and helped Ricky stumble past him with a shove, kicking his feet out from under him and sending him sprawling headlong on the deck.

Another man, whose name Gordon had never caught, leapt forward, but Virgil shoved himself in front of Gordon, fists raised, and backed the man away.

Gordon rolled his eyes and turned to face Ricky again, who had scrambled back up to his feet, face red with anger. A determined set to his jaw, Ricky shuffled closer, clearly dredging up footwork from some long-ago boxing class.

"Okay," Gordon said, mirroring Ricky's pose. "You want to box? Why not? That's more my brother Scott's thing" – he nodded toward Scott, who had just dealt another crippling blow to an opponent – "but hey, I'll give it a shot."

Ricky's lips tightened – which, coming from him, was probably the height of trash talk. He rushed in with all the grace of a penguin on land and threw a series of punches.

Gordon dodged or blocked them all without even having to move his feet. He threw a couple quick jabs of his own, landing them just hard enough to rile up his opponent.

Ricky flew into a rage. "I'll kill you!" he roared, lunging forward.

Gordon reflected that those were the first words he had heard from Ricky – and that they would be the last, as he met the man's charge with an uppercut to the chin.

Ricky's eyes glazed over, and he crumpled to the deck, out cold.

Gordon took a few steps back, suddenly feeling almost like he might pass out himself. Briefly, he wondered why, before it occurred to him that all he'd eaten in the previous twenty-four hours was a single granola bar. Besides that, he was dehydrated and sleep-deprived.

No one was coming after him for the moment, so he stood back and watched the fight as he waited for his head to stop spinning. Despite the pirates' superior numbers, the tide of battle was turning against them. Only a few were actually still fighting. Two men were down completely. Ed had made it back to his feet, but was weaving around drunkenly. Others hung back at the edges or even crept toward the companionway hatch. Gordon frowned as he scanned the men, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen Captain Bloom for a few minutes.

Hearing motors in the distance, Gordon turned and saw the flashing lights of a couple police boats rapidly approaching. A voice, amplified with a megaphone, echoed across the water, telling the ship to heave to and ordering all hands to report to the deck.

"Gordon!" Scott's voice, sharp and urgent, cut through all the other noise like a knife, snapping Gordon's focus back to the deck.

He just barely caught a glimpse of motion to one side before Captain Bloom slammed into him. He crashed to the deck under Bloom's weight, his head bouncing off the hard wooden surface. Brilliant stars flashed in front of his vision; he tried to blink them away.

Hard fingers dug into his throat, cutting off his air.

"You ruined everything," Bloom snarled into his face. "For that, I'm going to make sure your family doesn't get you back alive!"

Gordon tried to fight, but his right arm had no strength and Bloom had his left arm pinned down. Things started to go gray around the edges, his lungs aching with the need for air.

Then there was an explosion of movement, and suddenly Bloom was snatched away from him and hurled back several feet in a single, powerful move.

Scott, Gordon thought, coughing as he gasped in air.

His oldest brother stood over him, every muscle tense as he faced Bloom. The hardened pirate took a step back at the ferocity in Scott's eyes. "Get away from my brother - now," Scott growled, his hands clenching into fists.

Bloom began backing away, but stole a hand toward his pocket at the same time. Scott, ever alert, saw the movement and was at the man's side in a single bound, swinging his fist around in a wide, sweeping punch that had every bit of his weight behind it. The blow caught Bloom on the point of the chin, and the pirate flew backwards, landing in a crumpled heap on the deck. His gun skittered away across the wooden floor.

Gordon couldn't watch any more, because suddenly Virgil's concerned face was right in front of him, saying things to him.

Gordon didn't try to understand the words, more interested in something else. "Someone broke your nose," he said hoarsely. Things were coming back into focus. He noticed that he was sitting up and that the fight had been finished by the arrival of the police on the scene – the pirates were already being rounded up and handcuffed.

Virgil rolled his eyes and used his sleeve to swipe gingerly at the blood dripping from his nose. "Yeah, but don't worry about that. I want to know how you are. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Gordon shrugged, hiding a wince. "I'm fine," he said. "Hey, look, Alan got a black eye! Ooh, that's gonna be a colorful one." He raised his voice. "Nice shiner, Al!"

Alan grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

Hands gently grabbed either side of his face, turning his head back toward Virgil, whose brown eyes were somewhere between patient, amused and annoyed. "Gordon, can you please focus for just one minute?"

Gordon met Virgil's gaze. "I'm fine," he said seriously. "I'm a little bruised here and there, and I'm really looking forward to Grandma's cooking. But other than that, I'm really okay now that you guys are here and I get to go home."

Virgil smiled, relieved, and helped pull Gordon to his feet.

His smiled vanished, however, when Gordon added cheerfully, "I guess I might have a concussion too, and I probably need stitches in my shoulder. But, hey, could be worse!"

Virgil growled at him. "Gordon…"

Jeff, Scott and Alan walked up to them then, Scott sliding an arm around Gordon and casting Virgil an inquisitive glance.

Virgil rolled his eyes and shook his head, glowering slightly.

Scott frowned.

Jeff broke into the silent communication, probably aware of it but deciding that it was best to ignore it. "We're clear to leave," he said. "I've arranged for the police to stop by the island tomorrow and take our statements. Gordon, are you ready to go home, son?"

Gordon's grin was answer enough, but he spoke out loud too. "FAB, Dad!"

Jeff shot him a warning glance, but he was smiling. "Then let's not waste any more time here!"

Since the speedboat was not a practical place to evaluate or treat injuries, Virgil contented himself with wrapping Gordon up in blankets and making him lie down on a bench seat. Bundled up, and with the steady roar of the engine acting as white noise, Gordon drifted off to sleep just as the first light of dawn began to spread across the eastern sky.

Just one more chapter to go to wrap things up! Thanks for sticking with me through this story!