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Authors: Alex Archer
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inside, she grabbed the ax and tossed it to Claire, who snatched it out of midair. Annja then grabbed the front of the fire hose, handed it to Marcos and ordered him over to the side of the boat with it in hand.
Marcos didn’t ask any questions, just did as he was told, trusting that she had a plan. They hauled the hose free of its moorings and, with Claire crouching by the lever that controlled the flow of water, hunkered down below the waist-high edge of the boat, waiting for the right moment.
The plan, if you could call it that, was simple. Annja intended to wait until the pirates were getting ready to throw the grappling lines she’d seen in their hands. Just before the lines were thrown, she and Marcos were going to pop up into view, holding the fire hose between them, and hit them with a blast of high-pressure water. Given that the stream of water would have more than two hundred pounds per square inch of pressure behind it, it should be powerful enough to knock the pirates right off their feet.
She hoped.
Only one way to find out.
The thrum of the Pride ’s massive engines sounded in weird counterpoint to the throaty roar of the patrol boats’ smaller ones. Annja chanced a quick look over the side, knowing that they had to time this right if it was going to work.
Her glance showed her one of the patrol boats sliding in toward them while the second hung back by fifty feet or so. The pirates standing in the bow of the first boat were spreading out slightly, their weapons slung over their shoulders or resting on the deck at their feet as they prepared to use the boarding lines in their hands.
It was now or never.
Annja shouted, “Now!”
Claire threw the lever, releasing the hundreds of pounds of water held in the reservoir hidden behind the bulkhead at her back. At the same time, Annja and Marcos popped to their feet, the thick canvas fire hose supported between them, and pointed at the pirates standing exposed in the bow of their boat.
The stream of water shot out from the deck of the Neptune’s Pride and hit the pirates at about knee level, knocking them right off their feet. Several of them were thrown backward along the deck into their waiting companions but at least two were knocked right overboard without even knowing what had happened to them.
In response to the unexpected attack, the patrol boat carrying the would-be boarders veered sharply away from the Pride ’s hull and Annja wanted to cheer. She knew it was only a temporary respite, that the pirates had been caught by surprise and would certainly try again, but it was a good feeling just the same. Claire grasped the lever controlling the water flow and it shut off again, allowing Annja and Marcos to drop back down below the waist-high bulkhead beside them, out of view of the pirates. Annja shot a grin at Marcos, who returned it with equal fervor.
Score one for the good guys.
The pirates weren’t going to give up easily, however, and they let the defenders aboard the Neptune’s Pride know it seconds later. Bullets thundered into the thick steel of the waist-high bulkhead next to Marcos and Annja and along the back wall, against which Claire crouched near the hose controls, sending sparks and hot pieces of steel ricocheting in various directions.
In truth, the position the three of them—Annja, Claire and Marcos—had taken was precarious, at best. All the attackers really had to do was keep the trio pinned down with constant gunfire while the grapplers threw their hooks and pulled themselves up the ropes to the deck above their heads. With bullets filling the air around them, the defenders would be unable to get the hose back into position and take another shot at them without revealing themselves to the danger of getting shot and the pirates would be able to reach the deck unimpeded.
Any decent tactician would have seen it.
Thankfully, the men in the boats were nothing more than common thugs who probably relied on simple violence or
Marcos didn’t ask any questions, just did as he was told, trusting that she had a plan. They hauled the hose free of its moorings and, with Claire crouching by the lever that controlled the flow of water, hunkered down below the waist-high edge of the boat, waiting for the right moment.
The plan, if you could call it that, was simple. Annja intended to wait until the pirates were getting ready to throw the grappling lines she’d seen in their hands. Just before the lines were thrown, she and Marcos were going to pop up into view, holding the fire hose between them, and hit them with a blast of high-pressure water. Given that the stream of water would have more than two hundred pounds per square inch of pressure behind it, it should be powerful enough to knock the pirates right off their feet.
She hoped.
Only one way to find out.
The thrum of the Pride ’s massive engines sounded in weird counterpoint to the throaty roar of the patrol boats’ smaller ones. Annja chanced a quick look over the side, knowing that they had to time this right if it was going to work.
Her glance showed her one of the patrol boats sliding in toward them while the second hung back by fifty feet or so. The pirates standing in the bow of the first boat were spreading out slightly, their weapons slung over their shoulders or resting on the deck at their feet as they prepared to use the boarding lines in their hands.
It was now or never.
Annja shouted, “Now!”
Claire threw the lever, releasing the hundreds of pounds of water held in the reservoir hidden behind the bulkhead at her back. At the same time, Annja and Marcos popped to their feet, the thick canvas fire hose supported between them, and pointed at the pirates standing exposed in the bow of their boat.
The stream of water shot out from the deck of the Neptune’s Pride and hit the pirates at about knee level, knocking them right off their feet. Several of them were thrown backward along the deck into their waiting companions but at least two were knocked right overboard without even knowing what had happened to them.
In response to the unexpected attack, the patrol boat carrying the would-be boarders veered sharply away from the Pride ’s hull and Annja wanted to cheer. She knew it was only a temporary respite, that the pirates had been caught by surprise and would certainly try again, but it was a good feeling just the same. Claire grasped the lever controlling the water flow and it shut off again, allowing Annja and Marcos to drop back down below the waist-high bulkhead beside them, out of view of the pirates. Annja shot a grin at Marcos, who returned it with equal fervor.
Score one for the good guys.
The pirates weren’t going to give up easily, however, and they let the defenders aboard the Neptune’s Pride know it seconds later. Bullets thundered into the thick steel of the waist-high bulkhead next to Marcos and Annja and along the back wall, against which Claire crouched near the hose controls, sending sparks and hot pieces of steel ricocheting in various directions.
In truth, the position the three of them—Annja, Claire and Marcos—had taken was precarious, at best. All the attackers really had to do was keep the trio pinned down with constant gunfire while the grapplers threw their hooks and pulled themselves up the ropes to the deck above their heads. With bullets filling the air around them, the defenders would be unable to get the hose back into position and take another shot at them without revealing themselves to the danger of getting shot and the pirates would be able to reach the deck unimpeded.
Any decent tactician would have seen it.
Thankfully, the men in the boats were nothing more than common thugs who probably relied on simple violence or
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