That night
Wednesday
The Atlantic Storm
Location: 20nm northwest of Guadeloupe
Position: 16.5584° N 61.8272° W
Course: 315°, Speed: 20 knots, 1,292nm logged
Time: 22:00
We left the dock at nine that night.
We were heading north towards the British Virgin Islands where I hoped to be reunited with my daughter. The whole situation was getting to me and I needed to be on my own, so I headed to my stateroom and closed the door behind me. I lay on the bed, just staring at the ceiling for about half an hour before I was disturbed – it was Dave.
"Talk to me..."
I took a deep breath and sat up.
"I'm worried about how this is going to pan out."
"We've been in tough situations before," Dave pointed out.
"Yeah, but this is different – we volunteered for this shit..."
"I know; I know – Anne-Marie did not."
"We promised to protect them with our lives..." I reminded my partner.
"We did, and that is exactly what we are doing right now. We are heading north to get our girl and we will not stop, till we get her back."
That same time
Somewhere in the Caribbean
I soon found myself in yet another boat, a much bigger boat. Only, this time, I was not alone in the cabin.
My hands were bound behind me and I was sitting in a soft chair. I could see out a window, but all I could see was water – a lot of water. In front of me were two men and they were both armed with pistols in holsters under their arms. There was also a woman – she had a pistol on her belt.
My bravery had decided to return, so I decided to see how far I could push them.
"I need to pee."
"Cross your legs."
"I have been – I really need to pee!" I persisted.
"For fuck's sake!" One of the men swore.
"I'll take the little bitch!" The woman hissed.
She yanked me out of the chair, dragged me down a corridor and then she opened a door and shoved me into a bathroom. I just stared at her.
"My hands are tied; how can I go!"
The woman muttered under her breath as she spun me around roughly and untied my hands.
"Get peeing!"
"I'm not going with you watching!"
The woman turned her back in disgust.
"I don't trust you, you'll look..."
The woman glared at me like I was an idiot. Then she punched the wall and slammed the door shut. I was alone and now I had to figure out how to escape... I looked around the bathroom – it was all marble. I did need to pee, so I did, but took my time over it.
"You done?"
"Almost..." I yelled back.
I had to think fast... I opened the cupboard under the sink – bingo! After finishing my work, I banged on the door.
"I think we have a problem?" I called out.
The door was yanked open and...
"Oh, shit!" The woman yelled as she saw the toilet overflowing, courtesy of seven strategically placed toilet rolls.
The woman ran off towards some stairs and I took off in the opposite direction, pushing my way through a door and down another corridor. There ahead of me was another door, a sliding one and it was partially opened. I moved forward quickly and quietly, there, I found myself peering through an open door which appeared to lead onto the bridge.
I crept through the door and found the place empty – ahead of me was a whole load of hi-tech equipment and the wheel. I knew I had merely seconds before I was found – there, over to the right, a phone! Mom had drilled into my brother and me, a number for use only if we were in big trouble – I dialled it.
Safehouse F
Chicago, USA
I was in the Command Centre with Kim and Matty when I heard a chilling sound.
"What's that?" Kim asked.
"It's the 'Hit Phone'..." I replied ominously.
"Mindy will kill you for calling it that..."
I hit the button to answer the call and a voice came over the speakers, echoing around the room.
"Hello?"
Jesus Christ!
"Anne-Marie! Where are you?"
"I... I don't know – I'm on a massive white boat..."
"Look around, can you see land?"
"No, just ocean – it's dark..."
"Look around you, anything... anything that can help us..."
"Err, G – W – A – P... Somebody is coming..."
As we listened, we heard a door open and then voices – a man and a woman.
"The sooner we get that little bitch to the island, the happier I will be."
"She'll be safe there, no escape – unless she's a good swimmer!"
There was laughter which was rapidly cut short.
"What the fuck...?"
Anne-Marie screamed.
"No... No..."
There was the sound of a slap and then the call was cut off.
Somewhere in the Caribbean
I lay on the deck and felt the blood on my mouth.
"You fucking little bitch!" A man growled into my ear as I was dragged up from the deck.
I was carried back to the Main Salon and thrown onto the couch. As I landed, I felt a hand across my face – the pain was immense and I started sobbing, both out of pain and fear. My hair was seized and my head pulled back. I found myself staring into the dark eyes of one of the men.
"You see this?" A knife was shoved an inch from my eyeballs and I flinched backwards away from it. "Try anymore shit and I gut you like a fucking fish... Now sit your fucking arse down, like a good little girl and fucking behave!"
The Atlantic Storm
Time: 22:45
"Mindy – I've got Marty on the VC!"
Abby came running into the Sky Lounge, aft of the bridge and seized the remote, changing channel on the large-screen TV. I saw Marty and he was not smiling, behind him stood Kim.
"I have mixed news, Mindy, Dave – you need to listen to this..."
"Hello?"
I grabbed the remote from Abby and turned up the volume as I heard my daughter's voice... Tears began to well up inside me...
..._...
Then came the scream.
"No... No..."
There was total silence in the Sky Lounge as everybody there heard the slap. Several faces turned to look at me as I felt extreme anger building up within me. They dared to lay a hand on my seven-year-old daughter... They dared to hurt her...
I was brought back to my senses and everybody jumped as there was a sharp and loud, cracking sound. I looked down and saw that I had snapped the TV remote control in two.
I wrapped my arm around Mindy and focussed on Marty.
"At least we know that she is alive. We also have two new facts – she is being taken to an island, possibly a private island? We also have four letters – G, W, A and P."
"What do those letters mean?" I asked.
"Sorry, Dave – I have no idea..."
"I do."
We all turned to look at Ryan.
"A callsign. If she was on the bridge, then she may have seen the boat's callsign – or part of it..."
Marty interrupted Ryan.
"I have sixty-seven vessels with GWAP in their callsign. I'm gonna have to narrow things down a bit."
"See what you can dig out on private islands near the British Virgin Islands – especially people with 'massive' mega-yachts."
"I'll get back to you..."
Marty was gone.
Time: 23:00
We were heading north towards the British Virgin Islands and on the way, we would plan what we were going to do once we got there. I decided I needed to talk to everybody before anything went sideways. Dave did not agree with what I was about to say, but I pushed on anyway.
Everybody was crowded into the Main Salon and they all looked at me expectantly as I stood ready to speak. I took a deep breath and looked at them – my friends and my family.
"You all know what has happened. You also know that I am going to do everything and anything to get my daughter back. However, the risks will be high – we are no longer in Chicago, this is the real world where law and order does not exist and I don't want to put any of you at risk. Dave and I will execute the mission..."
I paused for a moment, out of curiosity, as I noticed Josh leaning into Chloe.
"You wanna do it, or shall I – you'll leave less of a mark..." He said calmly, but I could see irritation in his face.
"You wanna fucking bet?" Chloe replied. She looked livid and her eyes were flashing with anger – only I missed the danger.
I opened my mouth to continue when Chloe stood up, strode over to me and...
"You hit my Mom!" Danny exclaimed indignantly as the cringeworthy sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the Main Salon.
"Talk like a bitch, get slapped like a bitch!" Chloe growled ominously as Mindy put a hand up to her very pink looking left cheek and just stood there looking stunned.
"You hit my Mom!" Danny repeated.
"Yeah, I did, Danny; sometimes, she needs it. Very few people can slap Hit Girl and survive – however, I am one of them."
Chloe then turned to the stunned Mindy.
"You stopped being so goddamned stupid? We are all ready and willing to risk our lives to go after Anne-Marie – and don't you fucking forget it, or you'll just get yourself slapped again!" Chloe finished, sitting back down again, still fuming.
"You were saying..." Josh said to Mindy as he smirked.
"Forget I even spoke..." Mindy said very quietly as she blushed to match the outline of Chloe's hand on her left cheek before turning and heading forward to her stateroom.
"We already have!" Cathy commented with a chuckle.
I went after Mindy.
I followed her into the stateroom, closed the door behind me and sat down on the couch by the portside windows.
"Mindy, you are not alone. We are all in this together – we are a team; we are Fusion... Even in the Caribbean!"
Mindy turned to me as she sat on the bed.
"Thank you, Stephanie, thank you for reminding me of that..." Mindy smiled. "Talk about embarrassing!"
"Yeah – it must have been; that handprint looks good though..." I grinned. "I've got to look after my Mum, don't I!"
Time: 23:30
Nobody mentioned the embarrassing situation from earlier – which I was very happy about – as Dave and I began to prepare our equipment.
Me, being me, I was always prepared... We had no idea what sort of a fight was before us – but I was fairly certain that it would be on a tropical island somewhere. We could not exactly bring all of our usual vigilante gear with us – our normal combat suits were not wearable in the tropical conditions of the Caribbean, so we would need something more lightweight and suitable for both the climate and the terrain. In the boat garage that was located in the stern of the Atlantic Storm, I had several discrete equipment packs stowed there that were masquerading as life-rafts.
For any waterborne assault, there were a pair of Zodiac FC470 Commando Assault Boats with 55-horsepower outboard engines. Each could carry ten persons with their equipment, although we would use both for any assault. Dave and I broke open two of the other containers that contained equipment for everybody on board – except for Danny, Abby and Ryan, of course!
We called everybody to the Aft Bridge Deck and began to hand out equipment.
..._...
Each person received a pair of pants and a combat shirt in the British MTP (Multi-Terrain Pattern) colour scheme. On top of those would be worn an MTP assault vest for weapons and equipment. Each vest was also customised with additional composite light-weight body armour and the wearer's normal colours were added to the vest to allow for easy identification in battle. For footwear, I supplied each person with a set of light-weight Viper MTP boots. Everybody was also provided with a facemask that would conceal their identity, covering the area around their eyes and nose. I allowed individual users to select their own headgear, be it a bush hat, baseball cap, or a Fast helmet. Light-weight gloves were also provided.
Those who selected the Fast helmet would have the option of carrying night-vision equipment. Another container from below was filled with weapons. I had everybody's favourite pistol and PDW available, plus some heavier weapons.
Those heavier weapons included the FN Minimi Mk3 in 5.56-millimetre calibre, the FN40GL-S 40-millimetre grenade launcher and Kick-Ass' favourite, the Atchisson AA-12 12-gauge automatic shotgun.
..._...
Danny was wide-eyed as he watched all the activity going on throughout the Atlantic Storm. Cathy was preparing medical supplies which would be added to everybody's kit. Ryan was on the Bridge keeping an eye out for anybody sailing too close – we did not want to be spotted with so much illegal equipment up on deck! Josh insisted on playing motivational tracks over the yacht's music system at full blast; these included Queen's, 'One Vision' and Survivor's, 'Eye of The Tiger' among others...
Everybody spent time checking out their equipment and weapons to ensure that everything was ready. Kick-Ass and Jackal would carry the heavy weapons while Psyche and Wildcat would be our light-fighters carrying the lightest loads; each with a pistol and an MP7A2 only, plus knives, and relying on their skills. On that note I had made Wildcat's day by producing an updated set of claws for her to wear, which were embedded in a set of light-weight gauntlets.
Both Megan and Stephanie spent a lot of time sharpening their knives – Stephanie was a very different girl now that she was preparing for action and she was very serious as she focussed on her tasks.
Shadow and I would carry a P90 and G36C respectively, plus a selection of our usual bladed weapons. Trojan and Splinter would both carry P90s and they would be tasked with protecting the exfiltration zone and our backs during the initial assault. They would also be backup, as required. Medic would remain with the boats, as required – we seriously hoped not to require her medical skills.
Neptune and Hal would remain on the Atlantic Storm. Hal would co-ordinate the attack as she was used to doing in Chicago. Extra technical support would be provided by Battle Guy who would connect via satellite to assist Hal – we had sworn Marty to secrecy; I did not want anybody else in Chicago to find out about Anne-Marie.
As for the yacht itself? To tone down the white hull we had tons of dark grey camouflage netting to hang about the superstructure before the attack so we could come in close without being seen in the moonlight.
All of the fervent activity and preparation kept everybody from worrying about Anne-Marie. We even kept Danny busy with numerous tasks as he was really missing his twin sister. There was another problem too; Dave.
Our daughter had been with me, when she had been taken. Nobody blamed me, at least nobody dared to say anything about it, but I detected something in Dave's manner towards me. There was nothing that I could put my finger on, but I felt like he was blaming me for losing Anne-Marie. He was caring and loving towards me, as he always was – only something felt different between us.
That moment was not the time for a rift between us, so I decided to leave it until our daughter was safe.
Early the following morning
Thursday
New Year's Eve
The Atlantic Storm
Location: 20nm north of Saint Kitts
Position: 17.6068° N 62.8969° W
Course: 297°, Speed: 20 knots, 1,380nm logged
Time: 01:40
We had finally identified where Anne-Marie was being held – at least we hoped so!
Traffic analysis completed by USS Churchill had discovered a boat leaving Guadeloupe and that boat had departed on a northerly course about thirty minutes after Anne-Marie had gone missing. That boat had stopped at an island – a small privately owned island. Another, much larger craft had been tracked on a course similar to that which we were now on. With some more detective work by HMS Dragon and Marty we also knew the identity of that yacht and more crucially, who owned it – that yacht had the callsign: GWAP6.
Our final destination was to be Buck Island. The island was privately owned by a British ex-pat and it was located in the British Virgin Islands. I was getting excited: we had an amphibious assault to plan – a first for me and a first for Fusion.
Dave was very keen to go all Matrix – if we let him!
Time since abduction: 00:08:41
Time to deadline: 02:19:24
Later that morning
Thursday
The Atlantic Storm
Location: 2.2nm east of Buck Island
Position: 18.4309° N 64.5173° W
1,485nm logged
Time: 09:00
We were at anchor and as close to our final destination as we dared.
We had, after much deliberation, put together an assault plan and we were going to act on it to the best of our abilities. Ryan had spoken with Commander Perrin and Lieutenant Commander Edwards, advising them of certain aspects of our plan – there was nothing that the two Naval Officers could do openly, but if we happened to blow the lid off a drug cartel, for example, then they could act – however, they both agreed that running an exercise close by, would be acceptable...
..._...
Almost everybody was below, getting some much needed sleep before the night's action. My first destination was the Bridge as it was to be our Command Centre. Following me to the Bridge were Ryan and Dave.
"Time to go purple, gentlemen!" I said with a grin as I reached under the starboard helm console, slid back a hidden protective cover and pressed a recessed button, twice.
A small touchscreen keypad illuminated on the right hand portion of the upper console below the wind speed and direction indicators. I rapidly entered an eight-digit code and the right-hand of the four nineteen-inch touch-screens changed to a menu system of twelve options. Dave chuckled at the purple tint that appeared around the menu.
"Nice!" He quipped.
I ignored him as I selected option 4 on the menu: 'UAF-1 ESM'. The Racal ESM or Electronic Support Measures system was totally illegal on the Atlantic Storm; just don't ask where I got it! The system was designed to sniff out electronic signals, such as search radars, and tell us how far away the transmitter was and in which direction. It could even tell us the frequency and band which could help us identify the transmitting vessel. Even better, we could detect them using their radar, before they detected us with their radar.
The ESM system would be critical in getting close to the island without being detected. If we identified a radar on or around the island, we would then be able to jam it with the next option on the menu; option 5: 'Type 675 ECM'. The Thorn EMI ECM or Electronic Counter Measures system was again, totally illegal – probably more so than the ESM; if you must know, the two systems fell off the back of a Brazilian Type 23 frigate! The ECM system was capable of jamming a wide variety of electronic signals, including communications, but primarily radar. The ESM system would identify a signal and the ECM system would then jam it, making it useless.
Ryan actually raised an eyebrow as he perused the list of options.
"Most of these weren't purchased from your average yacht chandler!" He mused and I felt myself blushing slightly.
"They were... Just not a normal one..." I replied before lapsing into embarrassed silence.
"When do we use option 1; that looks like fun?" Ryan enquired.
"You'll know when you need it, Commander."
Dave and I went below to get some sleep
Time since abduction: 00:14:11
Time to deadline: 02:13:54