Boghammer

3. Kidnapped!

Everything was in place. The Good Night and Good Luck bobbed like a guppy before a whale in the shadow of the giant Iron Star luxury liner, hidden well from radar and sensors by powerful cloaking devices. Ibrahim was in his element, sitting in front of the Mediaplex with the keyboard stretched out over his lap. While Tommy Bogs was on deck, preparing to board. A headset on Tommy’s ear allowed the two to keep in touch.

“How’s it looking up there, Ibrahim?” Tommy asked. “Easy pickings?”

Ibrahim’s voice was loud and clear through the headset. “I’m taking their security offline as we speak. The Net is indeed a invaluable ally.”

“It is that. How’s the Synth doing?” Ibrahim could monitor General Shaw’s vital signs through the Mediaplex at the push of a button. The synth was drugged and asleep inside Tommy’s backpack.

“Doing good. Check the vision uplink.”

Tommy slid on a pair of Unabomber mirror sunglasses. Tiny cameras allowed Ibrahim to see everything Tommy saw. “Okay,” Tommy said, opening a large tub on the Good Night. “Preparing to board.” A small Uturret stood in the center of the Good Night’s deck. The Uturret was a platform, and many possible tops could be attached to it. A grappling hook was the one that Tommy Bogs needed. He pulled the large hook and tackle out of the crate and slammed it on the Uturrent’s base, screwing everything in with a few twists.

“Yo ho yo ho,” Tommy sang as he worked. “A pirate’s life for me.” He finished the final screws and stood back as Ibrahim aimed the weapon at the ship.

“Fifth deck. Room 245. Got that, Johnny Depp?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy watched as Ibrahim launched the grappling hook. It soared into the air, wedging itself into the Iron Star luxury liner and chipping the white paint that covered the behemoth cruise ship. Tommy hooked himself to the grappling line, gave the steel cord a practice pull before jumping into the air. Magnets and gravity took care of the rest.

Tommy Bogs soared through the air along the cord, landing neatly on the edge of the fifth deck. He pulled himself up with a grunt and then took off his backpack, confident that Ibrahim had disabled all security cameras.

“Security Detail coming your way, Tommy.” There was concern in Ibrahim’s voice. “I’m turning General Shaw on. Take him out.”

“There you are, General. Ain’t you pretty?” Tommy upended the backpack and out poured a large alligator-like creature. It had sandpaper rough skin, infrared eyes, rows of poison darts for teeth, and a tale that cracked across the deck like nun chucks. Tommy ducked behind a corner and peered out at the approaching guards. There were two of them, dressed in red bellboy uniforms with pillbox hats and armed with submachine guns. “Go get them, General,” Tommy whispered, and the alligator synth sprung into action.

It charged down the hallway, roaring as it went, and then tackled one of the guards. The guards sprayed bullets everywhere and sounded the alarm. Every Security Man on the ship would soon be battling it out with the alligator synth, but the artificial beast was as tough as rubber and as hard as cement. It would keep them distracted long enough.

“Get moving, Tommy,” Ibrahim said. “General Shaw will do his duty.”

“Yeah. Just like he did in real life.” Tommy headed away from the fight and into down the hallway. He counted the doors numbers as he passed, soon arriving at room 245. He looked inside the window and smiled. A young boy, gawky and short, was reading some papers, a young woman looking over his shoulder. This was them.

Tommy slid to the side of the door, withdrew his shotgun, and knocked. He counted the seconds until the door was opened and Courtney Maverston looked curiously outside. He jabbed the shotgun into her cheek.

They jabbered for a while.

“You’re Johnny Depp?” Courtney asked. Tommy could tell she was afraid, on edge, and liable to do something stupid, thinking that it would protect Nathan. “You look like an idiot who pretends to be Jack Sparrow to pick up girls.”

“Look, Miss,” he said, flashing a grin, “Johnny Depp wishes he had it as good as I do.” He brushed past her, carefully covering her with the shotgun, and walked inside. Nathan was still at the table, he looked up and started shivering, tapping his foot on the floor and blinking his bright green eyes.

“Wh-who are you?” he asked. “And why do you have a gun?”

“He’s a pirate, Nathan.” Courtney ran to her charge, shielding his small body from Tommy. “He said he doesn’t want to hurt us, but I don’t trust him.”

“Relax, buddy.” Tommy Bogs tried to sound as friendly as he could. “You ever wanted to be a pirate?”

“Not really. They kill people and their very cruel.” Nathan’s voice was small and his face was turning red.

Tommy kept the shotgun pointing down. “This gun isn’t even loaded, okay? No reason to panic. Just keep yourself calm, and this will all be over in a couple of days. I never thought I would be a pirate, but I dreamed about it. The swashbuckling adventure, the excitement, it looked really fun. Then the floods came, and I find that I’m pretty good at it.”

Nathan was still shivering.

“My name is Tommy Bogs, and I guarantee, I swear on the Bonnie Blue Flag that you will not be hurt. You’ll sit inside my boat, enjoying some of the best food we can get, playing videogames and watching the Mediaplex until gets a little bit of his Euros together and then you can go home.”

“V-videogames?” The boy was still nervous, but he was at least curious. “What kind?”

“I’m a big fan of Draconia. It’s an Net-based role-playing-“

“Draconia!” Slowly, Nathan stood up from the table. He really was a little guy. “I’m pretty good at it. I’m level fifty-seven. I play a minotaur.”

Tommy smiled. “I’m only level twelve. These damn-“ Courtney gave him a dirty look “I mean, darn gnolls keep on giving me trouble.”

“Yeah, the gnolls are annoying,” Nathan agreed. “Little beeeeeps.” He made a censor noise, like he was an obscenity blocker installed on many mediaplexes. Tommy laughed.

“Come on, Nate. Let’s get you aboard. Get some clothes together.”

Nathan disappeared into a side room, quickly filling up a suitcase of dress shirt and navy blue jackets. Courtney stared at Tommy with rage. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“I need the money.” Tommy sat down at a wooden chair and put his feet on the table. “Look, miss, from what I’ve seen, I like Nathan. He’s a good kid. And I was serious about that promise not to get him hurt. Now, just let us go, and don’t get in my way.”

“I’m going with you.” Courtney’s voice was firm and resolute. “I will not let my boy go off on a pirate ship with a bunch of ruffian corsairs!”

“Hey! There’s only me and my partner, and we’re very nice people.” Tommy pulled out the pair of speed-cuffs from his belt. “I don’t want to take any chances. I’ll tie you up if I have to. I’ll knock you out if I have to.”

“I’ll scream.”

“The guards are busy.”

“I’ll fight.”

Tommy laughed. “Please. I’ll break your arm without breaking a sweat.”

“I’ll tell Nathan he can’t come. He won’t want to go if I say he can’t.”

Nathan walked out of his room, a wheeled suitcase trailing behind him. He had a baseball cap on with a New England school logo on it. “I’m ready.” He stared at Courtney and Tommy. “Courtney, aren’t you going to pack?”

She gazed banefully at Tommy Bogs as she walked into her room. Tommy followed her with his eyes, and then pulled out a pair of speedcuffs. “Put these on, buddy. Just to make sure everything works out all right.”

“Handcuffs?” Nathan took a step backwards. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah.” Perhaps a little too roughly than he should have, Tommy stepped forward and hooked the speedcuffs around Nathan’s thin wrists, attaching them with a strong retractable wire to his belt. “Let’s go.” He had wasted enough time, and Courtney Maverston’s insistence to be brought along was maddening.

They headed for the door, Courtney coming after them. She locked the door behind her with an electronic key, and then gasped at Nathan’s hands. “Oh my God!” She bent down and caressed the boy. “You’re chaining him up? Like he’s a prisoner or something?”

“I told you, I don’t want to hurt anybody!” Tommy shouted in anger as they walked down the empty deck, gesturing with his shotgun. “Now shut up and get a move on.”

“Tommy?” It was Ibrahim, speaking through the headset. Tommy held out a hand to silence Courtney and her young charge. “Look up and to the right. Something bad is incoming.”

Tommy sighed and looked up. Four VTOL aircraft, painted stealth black and looking like a helicopter crossed with a Sharper Image shaver were hovering around the cruise ship. Their whisper quiet engines propelled them soundlessly down.

“Ah hell,” Tommy cursed. “Just when everything was going so well. Who are they?”

“Darkwater. A military contractor, mostly active in Venezuela and Panama. They’ve been charged with war crimes many times, always getting off with ease.” Ibrahim shuddered. “Get out of there quickly, Tommy. These bastards mean business.”

Tommy nodded and turned back to Courtney and Nathan, only to see Courtney cutting the metal cord with a pair of scissors from her purse. She snipped it quickly and then turned to run, helping Nathan along. The boy’s hands were still cuffed, put his legs pumped with the fear of one who was running for his life. Tommy hurried after them.

“Come on, Nathan!” Courtney whispered. “The helicopters, they’re here to rescue us!”

“Idiots! Darkwater doesn’t do rescue. They do seek and destroy! Now get back here!”

Even as Tommy was chasing after them, a sleek black VTOL flier zoomed in low, the side compartment opening up. “Duck!” Ibrahim screamed.

“Hit the deck!” Tommy shouted. He jumped forward, and for some reason, Courtney also fell to the ground and dragged Nathan down with her. Seconds later, a minigun appeared in the VTOL, spraying the deck with high-powered explosive bullets the size of cherries. Nathan yelped in terror and Courtney screamed as the deck railing was chewed apart.

Tommy was on his feet as soon as the minigun began to spin down. He fired the shotgun one handed, and then pulled out his machine pistol from his ankle. The VTOL aircraft lurched backwards as shotgun slugs and bullets tore into it. The gunner screamed, and then toppled out of the VTOL, a splash heralding the end of his fall.

The VTOL lifted upwards. Tommy replaced his machine pistol in his holster and shoved some new shells into the shotgun, wiping the sweat from his brow. Courtney and Nathan were already up and running. They trusted him when he told them to get down, but now he seemed to be an unscrupulous sea-reaver.

“Tommy! Coming from upstairs, dozens of them!” Ibrahim’s voice was tense. “I’m redirecting the Synth their way. It should slow them down a little.” Tommy looked upwards. The Darkwater mercenaries were rappelling down on black lines. They were dressed all in black combat uniforms, face-concealing helmets with eerily flashing red optics the only perceivable feature on their face. Each soldier was toting a silenced assault rifle, the new American OCIW model. Some of them were already touching down on the deck.

Nathan was running up to one of them, his handcuffed arms outstretched. The black-clad gunman looked disdainfully at the small boy through his rose-red optics.

“Please! Cut the handcuffs!” Nathan held them out and kneeled down.

The Darkwater merc drew a tomahawk with a plastic handle and a steel blade, a standard close-combat weapon, and prepared to strike. But he wasn’t aiming for the speedcuffs, and Tommy knew it. The pirate ran forward, blasting a low-hanging Darkwater soldier out of the way.

Courtney seemed to know it too. The tomahawk was already descending, and Nathan’s green eyes widened as he realized that it would not cut the handcuffs and free him, but plant itself in his skull. Courtney pulled him backwards, the tomahawk still cutting deeply into one of his hands.

Nathan shouted in pain as he grasped his bleeding arm, and Courtney screamed as well as the Darkwater merc took another swipe. This time, he would have succeeded in splitting Nathan’s skull, if Tommy’s boarding cutlass didn’t block the blow.

Tommy rammed into the Darkwater soldier, and then stabbed the full length of his cutlass into the soldier’s neck. He gurgled and gasped, and then sunk down to the bloodstained deck. Tommy drew the blade out and shot another rappelling mercenary, already shouting commands to Courtney.

“These men want to kill him! I don’t know why, and it doesn’t make much sense, but they do. Now, pick him up and follow me.” Tommy deflected an incoming grenade with his cutlass, spinning around as the explosion splattered several Darkwater mercs. “And cover his eyes if they’re not already closed. No child should have to see something like this.”

Tommy remembered his own childhood. Twelve years old, his father’s rusty old hunting rifle in his hands, as US soldiers moved through his house, stepping over the corpses of his family. The Swamp Rats and General Shaw used Child Soldiers, mostly because there were so many children willing to sign up.

Shaking the memories out of his mind, Tommy charged into the Darkwater ranks. They had no time to get their expensive OCIWs leveled and aimed, not when Tommy was right next to them hacking away. He stabbed through one soldier, smashed another with his shotgun, and blasted a third. His arms were numb was his grip on the cutlass never wavivered, and when the shotgun clicked empty, he simply returned to his back and took out the revolver, unloading it on the surviving Darkwater soldiers.

A path was cleared, and Courtney, still holding the wounded and bleeding Nathan, moved through it. She gingerly stepped over the bodies. The VTOLs were coming low now, raking the cruise ship with more machine gun fire. Tommy ducked as he ran, slashed a wounded Darkwater merc as he came to the rope.

“The boy goes first!” Tommy commanded, attaching a flying fox to the still taut zip line. Courtney did not move.

Tommy slowly turned to face her. “Do you still believe those Darkwater bastards want to rescue you? Listen to me, Courtney. The boy will go first. My partner is down in the boat below us. We have first aid, bandages, medicine, all on board. Now please, let me have him.”

Slowly, unsure of herself, the governess held out the young boy to the pirate. His face was pale and he was holding on to his bleeding arm. “Nathan?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been very brave so far. I need to hold on to the zip line with all of your might. I’m going to tie your arm to it, but I still need you to hold on. After this over we can play Draconia all day. Okay, buddy?”

“Okay.” Nathan managed to smile weakly. “I’ll hold on.”

Tommy helped him grasp the flying fox, tested it again to make sure it was taut, and then let him go. “Ibrahim, get on deck and get the boy inside. Clean and bandage his hand. And start the boat. We’re getting out of here.”

“Sure, but what about the Darkwater fliers and soldiers? Maybe I should get on the turret and deal with them.”

“I’ll deal with them. Heal and bandage the boy and start the boat.”

Courtney looked over the side as Nathan slowly slid down the zip line. He wavered, and she thought for a second that he might topple into the sea, but then he had made it, collapsing on the small pirate schooner below. As soon as he landed, Ibrahim opened the hatch and helped Nathan into the center of the ship. Courtney sighed in relief.

“You next!” Tommy cried. He was firing with his shotgun down the hallway, the corpses of Darkwater mercs covering the floor. He pulled out a second flying fox and clipped it on to the zip line, turning back to the hallway as more Darkwater soldiers poured in.

“Do you have another?” Courtney asked, gripping tightly to the flying fox.

“No.” Tommy dropped the empty machine pistol he had been using and hurled a throwing knife down the hallway, pinning a Darkwater soldier to the wall.

“Then how will you get down?”

Tommy raised his sunglasses, giving Courtney a view of his pale blue eyes. “Remember when I said I was Johnny Depp? Now I’m Errol Flynn.” He pushed her off of the luxury liner, and she screamed as she struggled to hold on to the flying fox. Tommy drew out his cutlass once more, his thumb pulling a small switch near the handle. A second blade, equally long as the first, extended from the small handle. Retractable blades were useful in any tight quarters, and now the cutlass was a double-bladed weapon that Tommy wielded like a quarterstaff.

He jumped into the hallway, his blade spinning expertly. He decapitated two Darkwater mercs in one strike, and then ran another straight through the helmet. Swiftly, Tommy stepped backwards to the edge of the boat. He jumped off, doing a back flip before diving gracefully into the water. In a world destroyed by constant flooding, it paid to be able to swim well.

Tommy made his way to the boat, retracting both blades of the cutlass and clipping the weapon to his belt. Still panting from exertion, he hauled off the grappling hook from the Uturret and pulled open the crate. A Multiple Rocket Launching System was waiting for him, still shining new.

“Let’s try this bad boy out,” Tommy said to himself as he slammed it into the Uturret and hopped inside. Three rocket tubes and a small computer display with Net access gave him all the information he needed.

“MR-7 Whisperhawk heliplanes,” the computerized voice of the Net uplink told him. “For best result, aim for cockpit or center engine.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Tommy said, working a lever to aim the rocket launcher at an incoming Darkwater flier. He squeezed down the trigger, and a single missile zoomed out of the first firing tube. It crashed into the cockpit, and the Whisperhawk spiraled out of control before exploding in midair.

The Good Night and Good Luck was already moving, speeding away from the now fully alarmed Iron Star luxury liner. Tommy took off his sunglasses and pocketed them, leaning back with relief in the Uturret’s gunmetal chair. A snarl from the far end of the schooner distracted him.

Crawling on board was the bullet-ridden and smiling form of General Shaw. Tommy picked up the alligator synth, and was surprised when it licked him on the face. “You’re not that bad,” he told General Shaw. “Just a little scaly on the outside.”

Carrying General Shaw, Tommy descended down the letter. Nathan was lying on the couch, he arm bandaged thoroughly. Ibrahim had given him a sip of brandy from the ship’s store, and was polishing it off. He tossed the half-empty bottle to Tommy, who took a big slug.

“Rum?” Courtney asked.

“Jack Danniel’s,” Tommy clarified. He walked over to Nathan and checked on the boy. “How you doing, buddy?”

“I’m okay, Mr. Bogs.” He sat up, caressing his cut arm. “They wanted to kill me, didn’t they?” His voice was very small, uncomprehending what had nearly happened to him.

“Yeah.” Tommy picked up the Uremote and clicked it on. He started up Draconia. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll get everything figured out for you. In the mean time, these gnolls are giving me a lot of trouble.”

Nathan smiled. “I can help you with that, if you want.”

Tommy returned the smile and handed the Uremote to the boy. “Don’t strain yourself, but those gnolls do need killing.” He watched the boy become absorbed by the game, skillfully maneuvering the elfin archer into battle. The poor kid had been through too much today, and he deserved a little rest.