Chapter 12

At the end of the hour, Sioux knocked on Grant’s bedroom door and announced that the hour had ended. The group got up from the bed, and Grant gave each one of his family a hug and kiss good-bye. After a few tears and words of assurance, Grant went into the main room to find John. He wasn’t there, but he was in the security room.

Grant observed John’s intense staring at the radar scope, and asked, “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a visitor. He showed up on radar about eight minutes ago. Without a moon, he seems to be feeling his way ashore.”

“Can you tell what he is?”

“Not at this point, as he’s not close enough for the TV camera, and at the rate he’s coming, it could be another hour before he gets here. It’s almost like he’s trying to take advantage of the late moon.”

“Another ship with treasure?” asked Grant.

“Quite possibly. It’s the only scenario that seems to make sense.”

“Should we risk trying to get out of the river and into open water before he arrives?

John thought for a minute, and said, “I would, especially since Brad and Mike were able to set up two props to be electric or diesel.”

“Then get us ready, but I also want to carry some listening devices and a repeater, along with masks, flippers, tanks and, a block of C4.”

John looked puzzled, so Grant said, “I want to know who they are, and what they’re doing. At some point, when they’re miles from here, I may want to blow them to smithereens.”

“And kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?”

“At some point, that goose is going to want her eggs back, and I don’t want that activity pointing at us. Besides, I didn’t say I’d do it, I just want the ability.”

“When I think about it, I remember from the old financial axiom that hogs get slaughtered. I need to remind myself not to be a hog.”

“Good, I don’t want to be one either. Besides, there’s enough sunken treasure ships along the coast to make what we’ve got so far seem like pocket change. We’re hundreds of years early so most of the ships have not crumbled apart or been covered by hundreds of years of sand, and we’ve got the perfect boat to recover the treasures.”

“I agree. Head to the boat, and we’ll join you with the things you’ve just requested. Your luggage has already been stowed away.”

Grant turned toward the door, and found Tom patiently waiting.

“Here’s your Glock, your cane, and twenty-five additional rounds for each. Now, be careful, because we need you.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.”

Grant started toward the rear door, but then suddenly detoured to his bedroom. Moments later he returned with a small black bundle of cloth and continued along his original path to the small harbor.

“What was that for,” Beth asked, after Grant had left the house.

“It was his gi,” answered Sioux.

“What’s a gi?” asked Sam.

“Martial arts uniform.”

“But, all I’ve ever seen are white,” said Sam. Why is his black?” After thinking about it, a moment later she added, “Never mind. I figured it out!”

“What did you figure out?” asked Beth.

“It dawned on me who wears black kung fu type outfits.”

“Who?” asked Alicia.

“Ninja.”

“I don’t think he’s fully trained,” explained John, “but he’s more than these people can ever imagine. If need be, he could climb up the side of that boat and kill everyone one on board without anyone seeing him, or hearing a sound. In reality, the job would probably fall on Zeke Adams.”

“Why Zeke?” asked Beth.

“Because he’s a SEAL, and a lot younger than Grant,” answered John. “Grant may have the knowledge and ability, but he knows he’s not some James Bond super-agent. In fact, most of what he has done today is precautionary, hoping that none of it ever becomes necessary.”

Sabrina did not understand much of what had been said, but she knew that Beth would help her after everything quieted down. Beth, did understand, and was delighted to realize just how cautious Grant was.

By the time Grant reached the idling Stiletto Bobby Johnson and Michael Camden were already wheeling diving gear out of a storage locker, and Jerry Allen was carrying a box of electronic gear and three blocks of what looked like white modeling clay. Then, while the additional gear was being stowed away, the entrance to the harbor was opening and the ultra-modern craft was ready to sail.

Mike Samuels, a retired Chief Boatswain’s Mate, was at the helm and assisted by the Coasty, Cal Peterson. Jerry Allen sat at the electronic warfare control center, while Zeke Adams manned communications. Grant sat in the Captain’s chair behind the semicircle positioning of the three main stations. PFC Trey Taylor sat with the two Marion brothers in a bunk area further back in the small boat. They were watching the events happening outside on a large screen TV. John had already given the three a Dramamine tablet, and Sioux had arranged extra pillows and cushions from the house that would make it easier for the men to rest, especially if the seasickness medicine made them sleepy.

Bow thrusters pushed the Stiletto away from the dock and helped guide the almost fifty foot long boat through the movable entrance-way and into the current of the river. This movement was made a lot easier at this time, because the incoming tide countered much of the outgoing current. If the tide had been ebbing it would’ve been a much tougher job keeping the boat from being forced into the right side of the entrance.

Two minutes after entering the river the boat began to bounce from the rough water created by the meeting of two opposing forces, the river and the ocean. It took another two minutes before they were clear and riding the gentler ocean swells.

“We’re at eighteen feet,” announced Jerry. “The Bogey is still fifteen miles out, moving at less than four knots. I don’t think he has any idea how far from shore he is.”

“Do you think he’s never heard of a sextant?” asked Cal. “Unless his charts are poorly made, he should be able to pinpoint his position to less than a mile.”

“I think he may be sitting in a fog bank,” answered Jerry. “There’s some distortion on the radar and he should be showing up on the extended camera at this point.”

“Now, that would make sense,” remarked Grant. “He would be as blind as a bat and everyone focused on taking depth readings. Also, the fog would distort any surrounding noises. Jerry, leave us on diesel for the moment and take us to twenty knots. I want to pass about two miles north of him and then use the electric motors to move close to his stern.”

“Aye aye, Skipper.”

“Zeke, feel like taking a swim?” asked Grant.

“Yes, Sir!”

“Then make ready. I want a bug planted in or around the Captain’s cabin with a repeater placed about ten feet above the water line. In addition, I want a small C4 charge placed on the repeater, another placed on the rudder and larger piece placed just about fifteen feet forward of the rudder. That last one needs to be flattened tightly to the side of the keel and shaped to blow inward. The repeater should have two way communications which should enable us to retrieve information from the retriever and blow the charges from several miles away. Also keep in mind that I want to be able to set off each explosive separately.”

“I can handle it in my sleep, Skipper, but should I also attach a beacon to help us locate the ship when we want to retrieve the information?”

“A beacon is a good idea,” Grant laughed, “but please don’t do this in your sleep.”

Zeke grinned, and said, “Don’t worry, Skipper. This group is now my team, and I won’t let you down.”

“We’re steady at sixty feet,” announced Jerry. “Bogey is now twelve miles off the starboard bow and appears to still be in that fog bank.”

“When we close to six miles switch to electric motors.”

“Aye aye, Skipper,” answered Mike.

“Just a note, Captain,” said Jerry, “but we just passed over a large wreck. I marked its approximate location on the chart for future reference.”

“Did you scan for metal?” asked Grant.

“No, Sir. I didn’t think about it.”

“Please do so in the future. Many of these ships carried treasure, and if it’s a recent enough wreck, some of the cannon can be salvaged, even if only for the metal on it.”

“Good point, I think of these old wrecks as having been down there for centuries, but our frame of reference has changed.”

“I know. There’s was a fleet of Spanish treasure ships discovered a few years ago off the coast of Florida. Everything was so damaged that they literally had to vacuum the sand from the floor and run it through screens. Those eleven ships actually sank less than thirty years ago.”

“So they would be mostly intact,” observed Zeke, “and we’ve got the only boat currently in the world able to salvage that treasure.”

“Skipper, what are we going to do with all this treasure?” asked Mike.

“Hopefully, we’re going to change the world.”

“I like the sound of that,” remarked Jerry.

“Bogey is at six miles, Skipper.”

Grant heard the diesel engines immediately reduced to idle and the initial whine of the electric motors engaging.

“Electric motors engaged,” announced Mike. “Speed is now eleven knots and holding steady. I’m preparing to turn off diesel engines.”

“Confirmed Boats. Turn off diesels and cover windows. Use of low light cameras only from this point.”

“Done, Skipper.”

“Boats, how far can we now drop our hull?”

“In this water and at this speed, we can drop it almost four feet.”

“Make it happen.”

“Aye aye, Skipper.”

Zeke came back into the room wearing a black wet suit. The part of his face which could be seen was covered in night camo.

“Everything’s ready from my end, Skipper,” informed Zeke.

“Distance and conditions Jerry?” asked Grant

He’s less than two miles ahead of us, and a mile to our starboard. Fog is thinning some, but it’s still pitch black. Oh, I did get a low-light close up of the bow as we approached. She’s the HMS Deal Castle – A frigate built five years ago as a six rate with 24 guns.”

“Jerry, how in the hell did you come up with that information?”

“I relayed the name to Sioux, and she looked it up on the Internet. Is that cool?”

“Definitely cool and good job to both of you.

“Boats, close to twenty yards off his stern and hold until Zeke is away. Then back off to fifty yards and hold us steady until Zeke signals.”

“Aye aye, Skipper.”

“Zeke, take care of planting the bug and repeater before doing the rudder and the main charge under the keel. When you finish, let the bogey move until it’s passed you before you surface and signal with your light to be picked up. Signal is two, two and one.”

“Two, two and one - aye aye, Skipper.”

“Cal, have they shown you how to open the bottom of this wonder of the sea?”

“Yes, Skipper.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, Sir, as it’s actually pretty simple. One button seals the room and begins pressurization. When the light turns green you press second button, and a shallow platform rises from the floor. When that light turns green you press third button, and the platform cover opens to expose the sea below us. When Zeke returns, the process is reversed.”

“Then get ready, Boats will advise when we’re in place.”

“Aye aye, Skipper.”

The operation went like clockwork, and within thirty minutes Zeke was back on board. While waiting for his return Jerry and Grant had been listening, along with John and Sioux on shore, to the frigate’s Captain directing the First Mate about the five chests they were to carry ashore. He was also afraid of being spotted in the moonlight by people on watch in Charleston, so he didn’t want the men to take the time to bury them, but to just hide them among the trees and cover them with a heavy section of net. The conversation further revealed that this treasure had come from HMS Leopard, which Sioux determined was a 50 gun Fourth Rate that according to the Internet had been decommissioned and broken up this same year. From what Grant and company could determine, the Leopard had known the end was near and had captured and sunk several Spanish ships south of the Leeward Islands. Since they didn’t want to take the gold back to England to turn over to the Navy, or be declared pirates, they decided to hide it in a remote, but safe area in the Colonies. The problem was the Leopard was too large to travel these waters and not be easily spotted.

Off the coast of Jamaica the Leopard had come across the Deal Castle, who was commanded by a cousin of the Leopard’s Captain. A sharing deal was struck, and the smaller frigate had been going back and forth to the Leopard, bringing the treasure to be hidden on shore. These were the final chests and the Leopard had already left the area returning to England, and once the chests were hidden, the frigate was to sail to New Bern for provisioning and some shore leave for much of the crew. The plan was for a select group to purchase some salable items in New Bern, place them on a couple of freight wagons and travel to Charleston for trading. They would stop on the way back to recover the treasure and carry it back to New Bern hidden among other cargo.

“That’s a rather ingenious plan,” commented Cal.

“Definitely,” responded Grant. “The officers and key crew members of the two ships could retire to the Colonies and be set for generations. After all, who’s going to notice a few more rich plantation owners. The other crew members will likely be kept in the dark, or suffer a tragic accident.”

“So, Skipper,” asked Zeke, “what’s going to happen when they can’t find the treasure?”

“Actually,” remarked Grant, “I doubt that’s really going to be a problem. I suspect that the Deal Castle will have problems off the outer banks and will never make it to New Bern.”

“Wicked!” grinned Zeke.

“But that would be murder, Sir,” proclaimed Cal.

“Cal, I have two answers to that view. First, with the King sending the massive fleet that’s on its way, we’re at a state of war, even if the crew of the frigate doesn’t know it. The second point is that by their own admission, they’re pirates by association, and the penalty of piracy is death.

“Seen from either of those angles, my objection is retracted. Blow them to hell and gone.”

“John, you copy all this?” asked Grant.

“Loud and clear, and I can assure you that no one here has any objections to your plan. Just make sure that none of them can reach shore.”

“Then gentlemen, if we’re all in agreement, what say we get on to New Bern. Jerry, radar?”

“Bogey is at four miles. Other than that, we’re clear for at least a hundred miles.”

“Depth?”

“Varying between ninety and a hundred and twenty feet,” answered Jerry.

“Forward sonar?” asked Grant

“I’m getting a general depth out to a hundred and fifty yards, and it’s set to sound an alarm if the reading drops below sixty feet.”

“Then bring us back to normal displacement, set our course to zero one five and hold to twenty knots electric until we’re at least twenty miles from the bogey and thirty-five miles from shore. At that point switch to diesel and increase to fifty knots if the seas will let us.”

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Winds of Change

Mike Lowe aka The Scot

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