Without warning

A murmur surged through the adults, while some of the youngest began a chant of ‘Piratas! Piratas!’, before Grandma Ana whacked one of them behind the ears and they all shut up quickly. Even the whackee held in his tears.

‘We had our problems with these guys before we got to Crusoe, and it looks like we’ve got them again.’

‘How?’ asked the banker. ‘How’d they find us out here?’

Fifi shrugged. ‘Somebody on the island probably dropped a dime on us. Five’ll get you ten, one of the lobster boats chugged out of port and went looking for someone who’d be interested. They couldn’t take us themselves…’

‘But they sold us out to someone who could,’ Jules finished for her.

More audible concern and a good deal of anxious muttering from the A-list passengers greeted that. Jules held up her hands to forestall any panic.

‘They could take us, if they caught us sleeping on the job. But they won’t. You have all seen these sorts of characters before. We chased them off then, we’ll do it again now. I’ve only called everyone together because this time it looks like there’s more of them, and they have a bigger, faster ship than before. It makes sense,’ she explained. ‘Things have turned to custard on the mainland. People are killing each other for a handful of beans in the big cities. In a situation like that, you will always get bandits who group together to prey on the weak… But we are not the weak.’

Fifi hoisted her large, ugly-looking Russian machine-gun to emphasise Julianne’s point. Sergeant Shah folded his massive arms and allowed his solid granite head to dip once in a nod of agreement.

‘We will try to outrun these guys,’ Jules continued. ‘One of their boats is already falling behind and the weather is closing in. That will help. They’ll have to fight a storm instead of us. But they have a second vessel that could catch ours if we have any problems, and so we need to be ready. Everyone, and I mean everyone,’ she repeated, eyeing off her American passengers, ‘will be armed and ready to repel any boarders.’

She expected objections but the statement simply dropped into a fearful silence.

‘I do not expect you to get into machete fights. You’ll lose. But we have enough small arms and ammunition to distribute among you and you will defend the boat with them. That means you will have to shoot people. Dead. This is not something you can leave to Sergeant Shah and his men – there will be too many for them to handle on their own. No offence, Mr Shah…’

Shah smiled. None taken.

‘Now, I need you to divide yourselves up into two groups: those who are familiar with firearms and those who are not. Sergeant Shah and Corporal Birendra will give the latter a quick tutorial in how to pull a trigger. That’s all we ask of you. The others will go with Fifi down to the gun lockers and arm yourselves appropriately. Do not panic. Whatever may happen, will not happen for many hours yet, possibly even a day or two. Familiarise yourself with your weapons and whatever firing station you are assigned. Learn its blind spots and weaknesses. Identify a fall-back route. And then get some rest. Watch a movie, hit the gym – whatever does it for you. If you have to fight, it’s best you’re not shagged out from running around like headless bloody chickens for half a day beforehand.’

At least some of them laughed. Nervously.

Jules took a few steps towards the group. ‘It may not come to anything,’ she said. ‘We may outrun them. We have enough fuel for six thousand miles of cruising. Enough food stocks now for a month, with some rationing. We may lose them in the storm that’s brewing up out there. But we may not.’ She paused, very briefly, taking in the effect she was having.

The faces of the older Mexican men were unreadable, their eyes like black polished stones in a dark night. The women looked much more defiant, but also fearful for the children. Some of the younger men, boys really, looked excited. Her A-listers, on the other hand, were quietly freaking out.

‘You need to understand this, most of all,’ Julianne concluded. ‘Anyone who steps onto this boat with hostile intentions will be cut down. They will be killed. And there will be no mercy shown them. Because we will receive none in return.’

* * * *

39 GUANTANAMO BAY NAVAL BASE, CUBA

‘We could let ‘em loose about seventy-five miles north of here,’ Stavros deadpanned.

Brigadier General Tusk Musso snorted softly. Yep, it would solve a few problems if he could just throw all of his prisoners into the Wave. But then what would the New York Times say? Nothing. Not now.

Goddamn, but he needed a rest.

Musso pushed the tips of his fingers under his sunglasses and rubbed at his sore, bloodshot eyes. He could feel bristle growing on his cheeks. The camp had run out of razor blades. He’d have to do something about that. They had to maintain standards.