Page 2 of Marooned


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Capitán Maximiliano Aguero supposed he should be used to the biblical moniker after too many years cheating death. “Let me see,” he replied, raking fingernails through the irritating stubble under his chin.

His resolve to abandon the life of a pirate had crumbled too easily. Yet, he had to face the reality that it was only a matter of time before the combined navies of Britain, Denmark and the United States caught up to him. Even the French had recently joined the hunt for the elusiveJuana. After years avoiding pursuit up and down the Spanish Main, he and his crew had agreed to make for their hidden base, then return to Puerto Rico. They’d then go their separate ways and Maximiliano would scuttle the ship.

He filled his lungs, hoping wherever life took him, he’d always have the smell of the sea in his nostrils.

“Danish,” he announced after focussing the lens. “Low in the water.”

TheHeklalooked to have more than the usual number of passengers, probably refugees from San Tomás, escaping with whatever funds they could carry. Most of the booty he’d plundered over the past years had been sold to feed the poor and hungry of his impoverished island homeland. The Danish sloop was an irresistible bounty placed in his path and might provide the cash he badly needed to start a new, anonymous life. A gift from God. Easy prey. “Once she’s behind Culebra, we’ll intercept.”

The shave he’d looked forward to would have to wait.

First Salvo

The moment the captain of theHeklacaught sight of Lázaro’s ship, the Danish sloop increased her speed, but not enough to be of concern. The flag of Gran Colombia atop theJuana’smast usually lulled the prey into a false sense of security until it was too late.

Lázaro kept his eyes on the prize. His crew knew exactly what to do without any command from him. The tidy sloop armed with a brace of four-pound swivel guns mounted fore and aft was more effective than a galleon when it came to maneuverability and making a quick escape.

Small crews were more reliable and loyal. Lázaro treated every man aboard as his equal, but they acknowledged his word was law. They also knew their captain had influential Puerto Rican relatives in positions of authority who turned a blind eye to their activities—the principal reason they’d evaded prosecution for so long.

The moment theHekladisappeared behind Culebra, theJuanaincreased speed and changed direction to intercept her.

A half hour later, Lázaro was too far away to see the Danish captain’s face when he realized he’d sailed into a trap, but there was no mistaking the panic on board as people rushed here and there, pointing to the sloop bearing down on them. He imagined the disbelief and shock.

How can the ship that was behind us now be in front?

Are they pirates?

Will they kill us?

Do something!

In truth, there was nothing to be done.

Lázaro’s feelings about the inevitable surrender were mixed. He’d always relished the hunt, the chase, the elation of victory. Men had died in futile attempts to resist capture, but he’d never taken pleasure in their deaths. “No, my Danish friends,” he declared as theJuana’sguns fired the first salvo across the bow. “You are lucky. Today, Lázaro kills no one. It’s just your coin he needs.”

* * *

Lost in bitter memories, Heidi gradually became aware people on board were rushing about, shouting at each other. Stephenson’s grip on her elbow jolted her back to reality. “Pirates,” he hissed, his ruddy face now drained of color.

Panic tightened her throat. She retrieved the bag wedged between her feet and clutched it to her breast. The American made a grab for it. “Don’t worry about that now,” he growled.

She resisted, but the ship suddenly lurched to one side, throwing her against the elderly gentleman. He staggered backwards against the railing. “He’s trying to outmaneuver our attackers,” he shouted hoarsely amid the din.

She fought to keep her balance but, when the ship lurched again in the opposite direction, Stephenson toppled forward, knocking her to the deck. She jerked her head back, the air whooshing from her lungs when he fell on top of her.

Stunned by the blow, and dizzied by sun, sails and sky swirling above her, scarcely able to breathe, she writhed beneath his weight, the portmanteau squashed between them. No amount of frantic squealing had any effect. She stilled abruptly when it came to her she was trying to shove off a dead weight—literally. The American didn’t seem to be breathing.

She was trapped beneath a dead man while people stampeded around her, oblivious to her plight. Women screamed, children wailed, men shouted. A loud cannon boom was followed by a moment of eerie silence, except for the deafening pulse throbbing in her ears. Then the cacophony began again.

It appeared the pirates hadn’t hit theHeklawith their first salvo. Somehow, she had to retrieve the weapon from her luggage. She’d heard horrifying tales of what happened to women captured by pirates. If the captain couldn’t evade the marauders, the pistol was her only chance.

With one final effort she squirreled her hand into the bag, elated when her fingers closed around the weapon.

Sunlight flashed from behind a flapping sail, bringing on nausea. She closed her eyes. Perhaps if she stayed very still, they might think she was already dead.

Amazon Or Viking?

Lázaro led the boarding party, sword drawn, just to impress the clearly terrified passengers huddled together around the mast. His men quickly tied up the Danish crew as he strutted in front of his captives, a loot sack held high. “You will empty your pockets and place your valuables into this bag,” he declared.

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