2.2 - UNWELCOME GUESTS

Kevin burst into action, flicking the safety lever on his SMG before activating the sunshades on the bridge. The bridge windows began to tint, making it more difficult for attackers to see through the windows and attack the crew.

“Stay away from the windows, nobody peek! They’re tinted, not opaque. Eric, monitor their progress on the CCTV” Kevin barked.

The group nodded and began to back away from the windows towards the centre of the bridge. Eric turned to face the monitors and aimed the external cameras towards the galley. As he did, a handful of trails launched from the approaching vessel and sailed over the handrails of the Dawning Horizon. The sound of metal scraping across metal resounded in the tense silence of the bridge.

“They hooked us?” Greg whispered.

“They hooked us.” Kevin replied. “They’ll begin the boarding action as soon as they’re close enough to throw out ladders. It’s just like the Gulf of Aden. Same tactics.”

“Can’t we just cut the ropes?”

“Sure, if you want to get shot by one of their cannons, or their ballista, or their crossbow…”

“Don’t cut the ropes. Gonna die. Got it.”

“Did you say the Somalians used the same tactics, Kevin?”

“They pulled their ship close so they could throw out ladders. They didn’t use a galley though.”

“Weird. I thought the galley was the pirate vessel of choice in the Indian Ocean.”

On the cameras the galley was dragging itself closer to the cargo ship, using the grappling hooks to align itself with the larger vessel. When the two vessels were pointing in the same direction, and their hulls were barely a few meters apart the crew began to organise themselves in front of the grappling hooks.

Members of the boarding force began to climb up the swaying ropes linking the two vessels. They saw as one of the attackers dropped from the unstable ropes and frantically paddled back towards the galley where he was dragged out of the water.

The first across were those wearing the painted wood armour. They began to haul themselves over the handrail onto the Dawning Horizon. They had knives in their teeth and hatchets attached to their hips. As they got closer to the cameras, the crew could more easily see that the weapons were in a poor state, rusted and bent. The armour was warped, and the paint chipped and peeling.

Several of the initial boarders could be seen looping the grapples so they were more secure for the next group. After securing the lines, they began to signal for the next group to begin crossing.

The next wave of boarders began to swarm up the ropes, quickly filling the narrow walkway between the containers and the handrails. Grappling hooks were thrown up over the containers and the attackers began climbing, hoping to attain a better view of the vessel they had boarded. Other attackers began pulling ladders aboard to help the heaviest boarders gain access.

“How many of them are there!?” Eric Exclaimed, panning the camera between the two largest groups of boarders and the other vessel which still had a sizable crew onboard. “There must be hundreds?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Greg leaned back to peer over Eric’s shoulder at the Galley on the screen. “A ship that size probably has a crew of about 300, it’s not a big vessel. The larger ones can have over a thousand crew.”

“As fascinating as this is, we do need to deal with the 100 people that are now on our ship. Do we want to just wait it out?”

“Wait it out? What, you think they’ll just leave?”

“They won’t be able to gain entry to the tower, all the doors are secure.”

The group turned back to watching the attackers progress on the small screen in front of Eric. The attacking force was spreading out, some climbing the containers or the feeder cranes while others pushed down the narrow walkways towards the fore and aft of the vessel where it opened out. From the bow of the cargo ship they heard banging as the attackers try to force their way through the deck hatches. Clearly frustrated with their progress, the crew watches as some of the boarders climb up the containers at the bow and begin to move their way along the stacks towards the bridge.

Members of the attacking force spread out to secure the ship. Those with the heavy armour stand guard at the ladders to prevent a counterattack while others stand guard at chokepoints, all of them waiting for the ship crew to respond to the boarding action.

A contingent of attackers begins to form a dozen or so meters in front of the bridge, preparing for an attack against the tower itself.

The crew jumps as one as a loud bang sounds out from near the bridge. A choked cry sounds out, but quickly dissipates. Kevin moves forward slowly towards the window and peeks his head through to see what’s going on below. At the foot of the container stack is the broken body of one of the attackers who has fallen from the slick, seawater saturated containers to the hard metal deck below. His legs are twisted in unnatural ways and blood is beginning to pool on the deck from his grievous head injuries.

THWANG …CRACK

A crossbow bolt embeds itself into the window glass where Kevin’s face was. Kevin drops down, putting his back against the metal wall and facing into the rest of the crew. Cracks spread out from the impact site before the window fails and begins to fall apart, tinkling glass down onto Kevin’s head.

“Well, that’s just not cricket. Broke me own rules though. Shouldn’t have done that.” Kevin chambers a round into his SMG and pokes the barrel through the now broken window and aims it towards the vicinity that the crossbow bolt seemed to originate.

BRRRRRRRRRR click click click

The noise of the SMG shocks the crew, as Kevin sprays down the deck of the ship, forcing the attackers to break and dive overboard to try and escape the noise, the bloodshed, and the bullets. On the cameras, the crew see a dozen people fall to the ground clutching their bodies in pain or for protection. Pools of blood begin to form on the saturated deck as those hit by the bullets or the ricochets begin to bleed. Some of the attackers are limping towards the ladders, trailing blood as they attempt an escape.

On the containers the boarders scatter, trying to move away from the area that has just been strafed with gunfire. The unlucky slip on the wet containers and trip, others fall from the stacks, landing on their heads with a sickening crunch.

Max lets out a small whimper and ducks behind Greg, peeking out towards the smashed glass of the window. “Are they… Dead?”

Kevin looks at her with uncharacteristically empty eyes. “I don’t know. But they’ll probably wish they were.”

Eric flicks through several more camera feeds from the ship. “They appear to be routed, most of them are making their way towards the ladders and climbing back down to the galley.”

“…Most?”