Chapter 6: The Chase Concludes

At a quarter to six, the port side bow lookout called. "Champion ho!" It was approaching us from seaward. We both slowed as we closed coming to a stop off Poverty Island. Our Captain hailed the captain of the "Champion" and then handed me the megaphone.

"Did you take on a passenger at or near Springfield?" I shouted.

"Yes! Damn his eyes!"

"Where is he now?"

"He forced us, at gunpoint to take him out to that Polish brig." He pointed at a vessel at anchor offshore. "It's the "Wlodzimierz"."

"Thank you Captain." I said and signaled to our Captain to continue the chase.

"What about me?" the river pilot asked.

"I'm afraid you will have to indulge us for a short while longer, Sir. This is a matter of National Security."

There appeared to be a lot of activity on the deck of the "Wlodzimierz". Sailors were swarming up the masts and out along the yard arms.

Turning to the Captain I asked. "Will we reach her before she leaves?"

"It'll be a near-run thing, but, even if she sets sail, we should be able to catch her."

"Are you able to provide us with a boarding party?"

"Yes. Will a dozen be sufficient?"

"That should do, as long as they don't want to fight it out."

"They shouldn't do. I've been on board her in the past and there was no sign of any canon."

The activity on the deck of the "Wlodzimierz" was easing off and concentrating about the capstan. The sails were flapping in the wind as the crew raised the anchor. Our Captain had the Coast Guard pennant raised as his authority for his next action. He raised his Megaphone to his mouth and called for the brig to heave to. The Master of the "Wlodzimierz" put his hand to his ear as though to suggest that he couldn't hear. He then turned towards us and gave us a derisive two-fingered salute.

Our captain's face bore a red flush of anger and he called out. "Mr. Simmons! A shot across her bows if you please." There was a sharp bark from the gun on the foredeck followed by an explosive splash in the water ahead of the "Wlodzimierz".

There was no diminution in her speed and our Captain raised his megaphone again. "Heave to or I'll fire on you!"

The "Wlodzimierz" continued.

"Mr. Simmons, another shot across her bows, if you please."

There was still no reduction in speed. "Mr. Simmons, a shrapnel round to her foremast, if you please. Boarding party, Stand-to!"

This time, the bark of the gun was followed by another explosive bark in the region of the foremast. It must have split the shrouds because the mast slowly started to lean to the starboard side. The rigging from the top of the foremast to both the bow and to the top of the mainmast held it from falling over the side as it sagged precariously.

The shoulders of the Master slumped in surrender as he ordered his crew to heave to.

Our Captain ordered, "Boarding party away."

A number of sailors lowered the cutter into the sea and then climbed down into it. They were followed down by a party of armed sailors and then by the three of us. With only about three hundred yards to row, we were soon climbing up the side of the "Wlodzimierz".

Most of the crew was just standing around looking lost, but some seemed to be looking at the main-top on the rear mast. Looking up, I could see a figure perched on the lookout platform half way up the mast.

There was a cry of, "MacLeod" and a bolt of force came hurtling down.

I barely dodged it, fumbling for my wand to divert any more.

The figure jumped to the deck; a feat which easily would have killed a normal human being. John grabbed for a bucket of sand and dashing forward, upended it over the figure's head. A screech of frustration erupted and the figure fell to the deck.

John fell with it to keep the bucket in place.

Sarah had her tranquillizer gun out and fired thrice. That should have been enough tranquillizer to lay out an elephant.

John and I dived on the still squirming figure with our restraints. John grinned at us still holding the bucket in place.