Caribbean Adventure Pt. 02

I tried the talking bit, if Navy SEALS are anything like our Paras and Royal Marines they love talking about themselves, so I tried that approach. "Were you both SEALS?" I asked, indicating on myself where I'd spotted Gabe's tattoo.

Paul answered that one, "Nah, I was a Marine, Force Recon. We were the ones had to pull the SEALS outta the shit they got themselves into. How 'bout you? You serve?"

There didn't seem much point in playing it down at this stage, I don't normally talk about my time in the Army, it's done. Three times a year I'll get together with some old mates, Army Navy rugby match, Dettingen Day (Battle of Dettingen, 27th June 1743, the last time British Troops were led into battle by a reigning Monarch, my regiment is what's left of the 31st of foot and we celebrate each year by getting slaughtered, eating a curry and drinking a toast to King George 2nd ) and Remembrance Day. Apart from those three which are in the main excuses to pretend we're still twenty-five and get pissed, I consider that chapter to be closed and my life is what is yet to come. Sitting on the edge of that inflatable it didn't look like there was much still to come.

"Yeah, Infantry. Ended up as Signal Platoon Sergeant. Spent some time in our COP platoon doing close target recce stuff. Worked with your Marines in Afghan a couple of times. SEALS tended to ignore us legs and only talked to our Special Forces."

COP stands for Close Observation Patrol, we were somewhere between ordinary infantry soldiers and Special Forces, we trained with the SF but didn't go through their selection process and didn't have their versatility. SF troops tended to be a lot bigger all round, spending most of their down time in the gym lifting heavy stuff. COP were more like distance runners, loads of stamina, reasonable upper body strength but less in the way of ripping people in half musculature. I did it for four years before getting bumped up to Sergeant.

Paul laughed, "Yeah, those SEALs can sure be exclusive bastards." Gabe proved our point by ignoring us.

Now that we'd bonded I changed tack "Hey, Paul, and you too Gabe I guess. When this is over, and I'm... you know.... Can you look out for Karin? Just I hope she'll be upset and will need some support."

They liked that idea, laughing with each other about the support they'd give her. Gabe suggested he'd support her up the Ass next time, but he'd be sure to get there before Paul broke her. As they laughed I tried the deep breathing to avoid vomiting trick, partly through seasickness and partly through what they were suggesting for my wife.

I hadn't planned anything, but as they laughed at their own hilarity we came out of the shelter of the bay and hit the bigger waves in the open sea. The little inflatable was travelling at about three-quarter speed, which I imagine would be around twenty-five miles per hour. When we met the first roller we pitched to my side, throwing us all off balance. I had my right leg hooked through the strappy handles of the top dive bag, I'd been using the weight for balance on the way out of the bay, but the sudden pitch was too much, and I started going over backwards. In a flash of opportunistic inspiration, I pushed back, bringing the bag with me.

I hit the sea with a smack, catching a mouthful of salt water as I tried to suck in a breath. The bag crashed out and pulled me upright then down. I took a final gasping breath in and felt the water close over me. The training from my offshore helicopter course came flashing back. I tried giving myself a two second count to assess the situation, I was still going downwards at a reasonable rate, I could release my leg if I needed to but if I waited another two seconds...yes. Seabed.

Sitrep. I'm five metres down, running out of breath in pitch darkness. Above me a boat full of armed hostiles. Equipment available...I held onto the handle and carefully tried to unzip the bag. I prayed to the god I don't believe and thanked him for having the tank on top and having the demand valve still connected. I shoved it in my mouth and blew out to clear it, then tried to breathe in. Shit. Nothing. Think man, think. I reached in, blindly trying to find the tap, twisting it open and pressed the button to purge the mouthpiece. And air. Right. Things not so urgent now.

I reached into the bag and gently worked the tank out, settling it on the seabed. Scrabbling around I found a mask, pulled it on and blew out through my nose to clear it. OK, now I could see a bit better, not a massive amount but if I looked up I could see the boat running a large circular route around where I'd gone in. I assumed it was around where I'd gone in because it was roughly thirty metres around where I was sitting on the seabed.

I continued searching the bag. Dive knife, which got strapped to my left leg. I shrugged my way into the waistcoat, I found some loose weights and slipped them into the pockets. A pair of fins finished the ensemble. I bled some air into the buoyancy vest so I could swim without too much effort and moved myself twenty metres closer to where I thought the shoreline was.

I settled on a rock and had a think. If I sat on the seabed I had between forty-five minutes and an hour's air. If I moved around it was between thirty and forty-five minutes. If I successfully evaded the boat they still had Karin and could either sit outside my hotel waiting for me or could start removing fingers until I gave myself in. If I dealt with the boat, Paul, and Gabe I had at least two hours before my absence was registered. I could do a lot in two hours.

Matters moved on with a degree of urgency when a shaft of light came down from above, in the reflected glare I could see a head with a face mask poking into the water. Now was not the best of times to discover I had highly reflective strips sewn onto the waistcoat on my tank. I slid behind the rock I was sitting on, dropped the tank, and took off my T shirt. It was relatively baggy and a quick slash down from the neck with my dive knife made it big enough for my purposes. I put the tank back on and pulled the T shirt over me, popping my airline out but importantly covering the reflective strips.

The boat was still trundling around above me, the beam of light had found the Dive bag, which had similar reflective strips, and seemed to be concentrating on that as a target. I circled out behind the boat which had slowed right down so it was almost stationary, the torch was pointing forward, so I hoped I was going to remain unseen.

I took my knife out and made certain the lanyard was around my wrist, approaching from the rear I stopped breathing for the final few metres, I didn't want my bubbles giving the game away, down slightly then up and thrust the blade hard into the rubber hull, slashing backwards to create a big gash. The hull started sagging immediately, the engines burst into frenzied life and the boat shot forward. I had the good sense to hang onto the split and was dragged along for a moment or two, before it stopped and a body dropped in opposite me, it looked like Paul with his big knife.

I stabbed a second hole and ripped forward, almost half the boat was burst now, and it was starting to droop into the water. I dived, Paul was getting close, and he looked like he knew what he was doing with his knife, but I was faster and had more air.

My heart was hammering like a pneumatic drill as I sank down, Paul had run out of breath and was returning to the surface, I gave myself some distance, circling round behind him again. The torch was cutting a light beam through the stygian gloom again as Gabe leaned off the remains of the boat and tried to spot me. Luckily for me the other dive bags had gone and were sitting five metres down with the spare facemasks inside, so Paul had the only one and I had plans for him. I lurked fifty metres out and ten metres down in the darkness, watching him establish a search pattern, his problem was he hadn't yet worked out who was hunting who and his search pattern meant he was going to become predictable.

Sure enough after a few minutes I had it worked out. He was giving a minute to each point of the compass followed by a slow 360-degree revolution. I let him have two full circuits to confirm the pattern, but not enough that he'd change it I hoped. He swept in my direction, the distance and darkness seemed to protect me. As soon as he'd moved on I set off, arrow straight with my knife held in front of me. I covered the first twenty metres in the minute he was facing to my left, then for the final minute I put everything I had into it and covered thirty metres in thirty seconds, driving my knife deep into his thigh, I was aiming for his artery, I wanted maximum damage in minimum time.

The water clouded around me, he was striking out blindly with his knife, but I'd already gone. I was five metres down and heading out to sea. Where the torch light caught it, the water was stained red, tiny fish were already gathering to feed. Paul's struggles faded and subsided as he bled out.

Like I cared, the cunt. Drug my wife and fuck her will you? I checked my air supply, the gauge said I had around thirty minutes left.

I watched as Gabe dived into the water, swam over to Paul's now lifeless body and dragged the face mask off, he disturbed a swarm of fish attracted by the blood, which were in turn attracting the attention of larger fish. I knew what would be turning up soon and I didn't want to be around when a top predator arrived.

I slowly swam in a loop around Gabe, he was holding position by the remains of the boat for buoyancy, it may have given him something to hang onto to save energy swimming, but it also gave him a big blind spot. A blind spot I hoped I could use. I inched towards the remains of the boat; Gabe was rotating the whole thing so he could search the water, I matched my approach to the spin. I started fifty metres out, after five minutes I was twenty, and increased my speed a little, closing over the next three minutes to ten metres, hanging out of reach but getting closer. Once I hit eight metres I kicked as hard as I could and rugby tackled the remains of the boat, barrelling into Gabe on the other side. I had him wrapped up and struck three times through the rubber with my knife. He struggled like a badger in a sack, but I had his arms trapped. I stabbed into the still inflated half of the boat, bubbles poured out, blinding me. I stabbed again and again, all the air pockets were punctured now, and the corpse of the boat was being dragged down by the weight of the engines.

I pushed down keeping Gabe wrapped up in the rubber sheet. He struggled free with one arm, reaching out to try to bring his gun to bear, even underwater it could do some damage. A line of bubbles flew past my head, I stabbed again through the rubber. It was too dark to see whether I was having any effect, so I concentrated on keeping out of the way of his gun hand and stabbed blindly.

We sank down, it was deep enough to be cold, properly cold, wishing I'd got a wetsuit cold. Gabe's struggles reached a peak and started to weaken, then stopped. I let go and watched the remains sink to the seabed below me. If I stayed down much longer I was going to have to decompress on my way up. I checked the depth gauge and the air gauge. Eighteen metres and twenty minutes or so left.

I reached a decision and dived down, no sign of the gun, which was a shame, but I had his shoes. Away from the beach the ground was all razor-sharp stones and spiky plants and I expected to be doing some walking in the near future. I grabbed the still body by an ankle, cracked the buoyancy jacket and pulled him up to the shallower water, pausing at five meters to allow my body to adjust.

I had ten minutes of air left, most of which I spent carting Paul and Gabe over to a rocky reef. There would be more in the way of crustacea there, it's not sharks that eat dead people, mainly it's the little creatures. I remembered a gruesome episode on a rig in the South China Sea where a worker had been lost, what was left was found a few days later and let's just say it wasn't an open casket at the funeral and I wouldn't eat Crab or Shrimp for years afterwards.

I broke the surface and looked around. The sky was clear and filled with stars, the plankton was starting to rise and light up when I splashed, all I needed now was for the dolphins to turn up and I could charge good money for the experience.

I took the chance to review my situation. I was about five hundred metres offshore, drifting slowly along the coast, alone, at least two hours by car from the nearest town, and the nearest people should all be assumed to be hostile. I'd been in less pleasant environments but then I had an assault rifle, a pistol, a section of colleagues I'd trust with my life, air support and a Chinook tasked on the helipad to get me if it all went horribly wrong.

Floating around on my own in the middle of the sea with nothing apart from a dive knife and my native intelligence, so just a dive knife then, was a unique experience.

I set up a slow, steady beat with my fins, aiming to just get ashore and work out my next course of action from there.

After five minutes or so I heard the sound of a diesel engine chugging away, getting louder as time went by. I lay still, chances were any boats out this way were connected with Virgil and being rescued was the last thing I wanted at that stage. A few minutes later Charles and Rhodey pottered past on the boat where I'd spent so long being sick. I still had five minutes air and used two of them hiding underwater as they got to their closest point to me, surfacing again to see them rounding the point into the bay.

I paddled on to the shore, it was sharp and rocky but accessible. I stashed the dive equipment in the scrub line where it wouldn't get washed away just in case I needed it again, then tried to wring as much water out of my shorts and slashed T shirt as I could. Fortunately, the T shirt was black and my shorts dark blue, so I blended into the darkness fairly well, better when I'd smeared some dirt across my arms, legs and face. Gabe's shoes were a size or two smaller than I'd like so I took the toes off them, enabling me to wear them without too much discomfort.

I had a good idea where the beach setup was and a glance at the stars every now and then kept me heading in the right direction. It took me about forty minutes to get there, I waited five hundred metres out where I could observe and note who was where. Old habits came flooding back as I burrowed under a large bush.

Charles and Rhodey had joined the gang for food, everyone was tucking into ribs, steaks and chicken. Karin and Hirani were both on the special cocktails, everyone else either had cans of red stripe or wine.

I spotted a guard, to be honest anyone would have spotted him, he was smoking and generally looking more at the beach than he was at the outside world. Where there's one there's usually another, and they ought to be in sight of each other. It depended on who had placed them, if Paul or Gabe had a hand then there would be interlocking arcs of observation and at least 150% cover of the area. If, as first impressions suggested, they were just local heavies then they'd probably wandered out to somewhere comfortable and sheltered and just sat their fat arses down.

I withdrew slowly and put some landscape between me and guard number one, I still had the dive knife and used it to cut myself a handy sized club from a young tree then circled out to come in from a different direction. I paused again to watch for five minutes, there was guard number two, about twenty-five metres away. They were either side of the approach track, which told me two things. One; they were probably the only two guards. Two; neither of the dead smugglers were involved in placing them as there was a clear blind spot that I could use to get close to the first and he couldn't see or be seen by the second, and neither of them could see the track ending at the kitchen area.

I took a side trip down to the back of the kitchen, passing a second Mercedes van so I helped myself to the keys from the ignition and continued. Samuel was out the front dishing up food, leaving me the opportunity to find the Gaffer tape and Cable ties that were sitting where he'd thrown them two hours ago.

Guard number two got the good news first, he was marginally more alert than Guard number one, in as far as he wasn't smoking, but did have a stash of empty Red Stripe cans. I came out of the brush behind him, waved my club and he was on the floor before he knew I was there. Cable ties and Gaffer tape came into play, and he was trussed up around a tree. I put a length across his mouth as well so he couldn't go making a noise. He had a nasty looking machete which I borrowed.

Guard number one I may as well not have bothered, it wasn't tobacco he'd been smoking. He was floating on a skunk induced cloud, almost completely unaware of anything going on around him. I still smacked him on the head with my stick, just to be certain, and I was pissed off. He had another machete but this one was rusty and hacked along the blade, I took it anyway so no one else could hurt themselves on it.

Gaffer tape and cable ties deployed, and I slunk back down to the covered area, dropping the machetes in the back of the van. Food was over and desert was being served.

Rhodey and Charles were putting on another show, I'd missed the start, but I doubt any of it was an important plot element. Margaret was on her back getting a firm pounding by Rhodey, his deep tan contrasting with the white patch around his arse and penis. Hirani was massaging one enhanced breast while licking and kissing the other.

Next to the first group Karin was back on her knees, the imposing bulk of Charles was behind her, his cock stretching her pussy as he slammed home, she was rocking back into him, forcing him deeper into her. She wasn't making a sound I could hear largely due to the presence of Samuel's cock in her throat, her lips sliding up and down in a slippery blur. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on her task.

Sitting in his big chair was Virgil, presiding over the bacchanalian scenes with a rapt look of delight across his face. I was horrified, disgusted, angry, and aroused all at the same time. Looking at his wrinkled, lust filled features I determined he was going to suffer, whether at the hands of the law or mine was yet to be determined, and probably depended on him.

With Margaret being busy he stepped into the directors role, clapping his hands he shouted "Karin, dear. That's enough like that. I think you'd like it if Hirani gave you a kiss down there."

Karin stopped, looked around as if uncertain where she was, then appeared to reach a decision.

"I think I'd like that"

Virgil smiled like a lizard and called Hirani over. "Hirani, dear. Leave Margaret to Rhodey and Samuel, come over and give Karin a nice kiss."

She turned away, looked over at Karin who was now sitting back with her legs apart and repeated "Nice kiss. Yes." Then bent and laid her pink tongue on Karin's darker pink labia, parting them slightly and pushing in, then flattening and spreading across the pussy, moving up and caressing the rock-hard clit. Karin loves receiving oral, and it looked as if Hirani was exceptionally good at it, little moans and gasps of excitement were coming from deep in Karin's throat, she reached up to grip hard on her own tits, squeezing them together and pinching the nipples.

Virgil let them continue for a while then told Karin she'd probably like to give Charles a blowjob while that was happening.

She gave that faraway look of consideration of hers then agreed, "Yes, I think I'd like that."

There was a brief rearranging of who sat where but soon enough Karin was kneeling astride Hirani, who had her tongue buried in my wife's sweet pussy whilst she took Charles deep into her throat.