Seawater splashed over their faces as the rubber
inflatable boat skipped and bounced over the choppy black water. Ahead, the silhouette
of a fully rigged galleon stood illuminated in the moonlight. The seven man
team huddled tight to the boat and spoke not a word, the outboard motor droned
like a lawn mower beneath the waterline.
When the rubber raft came within 200 yards of the galleon, Petty Officer 2nd class Wasnick cut the outboard motor and pulled it aboard. Without a word, he and the rest of the SEAL team pulled out black, wooden oars and began paddling for the galleon. Six oars began cutting into the water in unison as Lieutenant Colding quietly called, "Stroke... Stroke... Stroke". Father Rodriguez, sitting amidships, uttered a near silent prayer in Latin as he held a rosary, the crucifix dangling from his fist.
"Stroke... Stroke... Standby..." The rowing stopped. The raft was now directly in the path of the galleon, its sails suddenly eclipsing the moon. Lt Colding handled a black rope with a grappling hook on it, "Stand back", he whispered hoarsely.
The black mountain of a ship came mere feet from smashing headlong into the raft as Colding spun the grappling hook in 3 quick circles around his wrist and tossed it high on the ship's port bow.
Success! The hook had caught the railing of the forecastle. The rope that the grappling hook was attached to was also fastened along the starboard side of the raft, and as the galleon continued on its course, the line pulled tight and the raft was pulled in close to the side of the ship.
Colding, rifle slung behind his back, began climbing the rope up the wooden wall that was the side of the ship, followed by Petty Officer First class Barnes, then Father Rodriguez. As the first three men hung from the rail off the side of the ship, the four remaining men from the SEAL boat crew climbed the rope.
Father Rodriguez was dressed in a white robe vestment, and the five SEALs were dressed in cargo pants, tactical helmets and ammo vests all of which black. The six of them watched Lt Colding as he peered over the deck. He saw the unwashed crew of the damned. Holding on with his right arm, Colding signaled with the fingers of his left hand 3... 2... 1... FIST!
The SEALs vaulted over the railing of the front of the ship, rifles in hand.
"GET DOWN! GIDOWN!!! DROP TO THE DECK!!! NOW!!!", Colding roared, Wasnick shouted Colding's orders in Romanian. Father Rodriguez clambered on deck behind the advancing SEALs. The pirates began to drop to the deck.
f'BOOM!!!
One of the pirates had taken aim and fired his flintlock pistol. The bullet raced harmlessly into the night.
BANG BANG! The muzzle flashes from Colding's rifle briefly illuminated the ship in orange and harsh shadows as he turned and shot the pirate in the chest. The pirate immediately fell into a heap of ash that swirled away in the wind.
The SEALs filed down each set of stairs from the forecastle to the main deck, zip-tying wrists and ankles together and policing weapons.
"You," Colding said while pointing to a pirate at the wheel above him in the aft-castle, "Come. Down. Here", Colding then pointed at the deck immediately before him. Colding and the helmsman stared at each other for a moment. The helmsman shifted his weight and his face tensed. The helmsman launched himself over the aftcastle’s railing, baring wolf-like fangs and hissing.
The entire SEAL team opened fire on the flying vampirate, throwing harsh shadows across the ship. As soon as the shooting began, it had stopped. Only moonlight illuminated the darkened ship. The cool kiss of ashes swept past each team member's face.
"Guess they weren't expecting silver bullets to work," Kyer muttered.
"Rodriguez, Wasnick; secure the captain's quarters and the lower decks. 4, 5 and 6, fluoresce the crew. Barnes, you're with me."
The door to the captain's quarters lay amid the two stairs leading up the aftcastle to the helm. The ladderwell to the lower decks was ten or so feet forward of the door, secured with a trap door style hatch. Father Rodriguez pulled out a wafer and lifted it to heaven, praying in Latin while Colding and Barnes climbed the short stairs to the aftcastle. Wasnick had his rifle trained on the hatch to the ladderwell.
Johnson, Kyer, and McGill policed the restrained crewmen, passing a fluorescent UV lamp over each, illuminating each in an eerie purple haze.
Father Rodriguez broke the wafer and crumbled it in a circle around the hatch in the deck, saying "In Nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen", then made the sign of the cross over the crumbs. Father Rodriguez turned and walked toward the door to the captain's quarters, Wasnick followed the Father, sweeping his rifle up high and around the deck, searching for movement.
Johnson's voice crackled into everyone's ear-pieces, "topside crew accounted for," he said in a calm whisper, "all vampires. No humans. I repeat; no humans."
Father Rodriguez produced another communion wafer and touched it to the top of the captain's door, and said, "Hoc est corpus meum", and broke the wafer in two.
Kyer and McGill fell in behind Wasnick and the Father, Johnson double-timed up to meet Colding and Barnes above the captain's quarters at the aft-castle.
White crumbs lining the captain's door, the Father keyed his throat microphone and said, "Amen." "Execute! Execute!" Colding broke in.
Wasnick kicked down the door to the captain's quarters, Kyer and McGill rushed in and broke off left and right. Father Rodriguez followed as Wasnick charged straight into the room.
Captain Dracula arose from his desk.
"GET DOWN!!! GET DOWN ON THE DECK!!!", Wasnick screamed.
Kyer and McGill were a few feet to the left and right of Captain Dracula, their rifles trained at his center of mass. Captain Dracula wore a black jacket with a red sash across his chest. His face was stoic. Atop his balding head was a large, gold trimmed three-point hat with a flowing black feather.
"Avast! and good evening!" Captain Dracula said with astonishingly good English. It was a strange experience, seeing a pirate captain speak with such calm reserve in an Eastern European inflection.
"Perhaps you would seet down and ahvadrink?"
"Captain Dracula, you're coming with us."
"Oh? And where am I going?" Dracula asked in a subtle, mocking incredulity.
"Out that window," Wasnick said as he gestured with his rifle barrel to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the room.
"I don't think so," Captain Dracula said, "You know wampyres cannot sweem."
The soft, thumping beat of an approaching helicopter broke in.
"Your ride's on its way, Captain. I suggest you not fight."
The rocking of this ship was much more noticeable inside Dracula's quarters. The dozen white stumps of candles illuminating the center of the cabin seemed not to move, but their flames all tilted and swayed unanimously to the left and right.
Wasnick still had his rifle trained on Dracula's face. Dracula's upper lip stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"I'll give you to the count of three,” Wasnick said, "Drop to your knees."
Captain Dracula remained impassive. The candle-flames swayed to port.
"One..."
The flames swayed back to starboard.
"Two..."
The candle flames were halfway back to port when -CRASH!!!
Large shards of glass and wood paneling flew through the cabin as Colding and Barnes swung like Tarzan through the windows on their ropes. Dracula wheeled about, hissing.
Colding was face to face with the Romanian pirate overlord. Those fangs must be two inches l-
Dracula slapped Colding's M4 rifle aside. Colding's rifle was slung to his body, so it didn't leave him, but the force of Dracula's slap had tossed him into Barnes, knocking both men to the floor of the cabin in a clatter of metal on wood.
Father Rodriguez leapt over the desk in the center of the room and from behind began to strangle Captain Dracula with his Rosary. Vampires don't breathe, but Dracula's hands clawed at the beads around his neck, deathly allergic to the holy icon. His feathered hat fell to the floor in the struggle.
Colding got to his feet and pulled what looked like an epinephrine pen out of his cargo pants and pulled the cap off, revealing a silver alloy needle. He stabbed the needle into Captain Dracula's chest. Dracula's pupils dilated wide, coloring his red eyes black, and his struggling went slack and loose. The thudding of the helicopter was distinctly closer now.
Barnes unstuffed a black, plastic body bag from the back of his tactical vest. Father Rodriguez released the Rosary from Dracula's neck and helped Colding and Barnes stuff the vampire into the body bag. Colding zipped the bag up, and Father Rodriguez secured the zipper with the Rosary.
"Let's see him try to get out of that!" Colding said, amused.
The helicopter was now directly over the aftcastle of the galleon, the thunder of its rotors could be heard over the sea swells through the shattered glass, as well as felt throughout the wooden ship.
Colding unclipped his repelling rope from his harness and secured it to Dracula's body bag. Meanwhile, topside, Johnson had untied Colding's rope from the railing of the fantail and secured it to a line that dangled from the helicopter.
Johnson's voice broke in on everyone's earpieces, "towline secure".
Colding brought his thumb and index finger to his throat mic and said, "roger that. Bag secure, bag secure. Vampire away!"
Colding spit on the body bag and shoved it out the broken glass window into the sea. The line swayed and the bag swung wide over the black sea. The helicopter pulled away, towing Dracula beneath.
When the rubber raft came within 200 yards of the galleon, Petty Officer 2nd class Wasnick cut the outboard motor and pulled it aboard. Without a word, he and the rest of the SEAL team pulled out black, wooden oars and began paddling for the galleon. Six oars began cutting into the water in unison as Lieutenant Colding quietly called, "Stroke... Stroke... Stroke". Father Rodriguez, sitting amidships, uttered a near silent prayer in Latin as he held a rosary, the crucifix dangling from his fist.
"Stroke... Stroke... Standby..." The rowing stopped. The raft was now directly in the path of the galleon, its sails suddenly eclipsing the moon. Lt Colding handled a black rope with a grappling hook on it, "Stand back", he whispered hoarsely.
The black mountain of a ship came mere feet from smashing headlong into the raft as Colding spun the grappling hook in 3 quick circles around his wrist and tossed it high on the ship's port bow.
Success! The hook had caught the railing of the forecastle. The rope that the grappling hook was attached to was also fastened along the starboard side of the raft, and as the galleon continued on its course, the line pulled tight and the raft was pulled in close to the side of the ship.
Colding, rifle slung behind his back, began climbing the rope up the wooden wall that was the side of the ship, followed by Petty Officer First class Barnes, then Father Rodriguez. As the first three men hung from the rail off the side of the ship, the four remaining men from the SEAL boat crew climbed the rope.
Father Rodriguez was dressed in a white robe vestment, and the five SEALs were dressed in cargo pants, tactical helmets and ammo vests all of which black. The six of them watched Lt Colding as he peered over the deck. He saw the unwashed crew of the damned. Holding on with his right arm, Colding signaled with the fingers of his left hand 3... 2... 1... FIST!
The SEALs vaulted over the railing of the front of the ship, rifles in hand.
"GET DOWN! GIDOWN!!! DROP TO THE DECK!!! NOW!!!", Colding roared, Wasnick shouted Colding's orders in Romanian. Father Rodriguez clambered on deck behind the advancing SEALs. The pirates began to drop to the deck.
f'BOOM!!!
One of the pirates had taken aim and fired his flintlock pistol. The bullet raced harmlessly into the night.
BANG BANG! The muzzle flashes from Colding's rifle briefly illuminated the ship in orange and harsh shadows as he turned and shot the pirate in the chest. The pirate immediately fell into a heap of ash that swirled away in the wind.
The SEALs filed down each set of stairs from the forecastle to the main deck, zip-tying wrists and ankles together and policing weapons.
"You," Colding said while pointing to a pirate at the wheel above him in the aft-castle, "Come. Down. Here", Colding then pointed at the deck immediately before him. Colding and the helmsman stared at each other for a moment. The helmsman shifted his weight and his face tensed. The helmsman launched himself over the aftcastle’s railing, baring wolf-like fangs and hissing.
The entire SEAL team opened fire on the flying vampirate, throwing harsh shadows across the ship. As soon as the shooting began, it had stopped. Only moonlight illuminated the darkened ship. The cool kiss of ashes swept past each team member's face.
"Guess they weren't expecting silver bullets to work," Kyer muttered.
"Rodriguez, Wasnick; secure the captain's quarters and the lower decks. 4, 5 and 6, fluoresce the crew. Barnes, you're with me."
The door to the captain's quarters lay amid the two stairs leading up the aftcastle to the helm. The ladderwell to the lower decks was ten or so feet forward of the door, secured with a trap door style hatch. Father Rodriguez pulled out a wafer and lifted it to heaven, praying in Latin while Colding and Barnes climbed the short stairs to the aftcastle. Wasnick had his rifle trained on the hatch to the ladderwell.
Johnson, Kyer, and McGill policed the restrained crewmen, passing a fluorescent UV lamp over each, illuminating each in an eerie purple haze.
Father Rodriguez broke the wafer and crumbled it in a circle around the hatch in the deck, saying "In Nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen", then made the sign of the cross over the crumbs. Father Rodriguez turned and walked toward the door to the captain's quarters, Wasnick followed the Father, sweeping his rifle up high and around the deck, searching for movement.
Johnson's voice crackled into everyone's ear-pieces, "topside crew accounted for," he said in a calm whisper, "all vampires. No humans. I repeat; no humans."
Father Rodriguez produced another communion wafer and touched it to the top of the captain's door, and said, "Hoc est corpus meum", and broke the wafer in two.
Kyer and McGill fell in behind Wasnick and the Father, Johnson double-timed up to meet Colding and Barnes above the captain's quarters at the aft-castle.
White crumbs lining the captain's door, the Father keyed his throat microphone and said, "Amen." "Execute! Execute!" Colding broke in.
Wasnick kicked down the door to the captain's quarters, Kyer and McGill rushed in and broke off left and right. Father Rodriguez followed as Wasnick charged straight into the room.
Captain Dracula arose from his desk.
"GET DOWN!!! GET DOWN ON THE DECK!!!", Wasnick screamed.
Kyer and McGill were a few feet to the left and right of Captain Dracula, their rifles trained at his center of mass. Captain Dracula wore a black jacket with a red sash across his chest. His face was stoic. Atop his balding head was a large, gold trimmed three-point hat with a flowing black feather.
"Avast! and good evening!" Captain Dracula said with astonishingly good English. It was a strange experience, seeing a pirate captain speak with such calm reserve in an Eastern European inflection.
"Perhaps you would seet down and ahvadrink?"
"Captain Dracula, you're coming with us."
"Oh? And where am I going?" Dracula asked in a subtle, mocking incredulity.
"Out that window," Wasnick said as he gestured with his rifle barrel to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the room.
"I don't think so," Captain Dracula said, "You know wampyres cannot sweem."
The soft, thumping beat of an approaching helicopter broke in.
"Your ride's on its way, Captain. I suggest you not fight."
The rocking of this ship was much more noticeable inside Dracula's quarters. The dozen white stumps of candles illuminating the center of the cabin seemed not to move, but their flames all tilted and swayed unanimously to the left and right.
Wasnick still had his rifle trained on Dracula's face. Dracula's upper lip stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"I'll give you to the count of three,” Wasnick said, "Drop to your knees."
Captain Dracula remained impassive. The candle-flames swayed to port.
"One..."
The flames swayed back to starboard.
"Two..."
The candle flames were halfway back to port when -CRASH!!!
Large shards of glass and wood paneling flew through the cabin as Colding and Barnes swung like Tarzan through the windows on their ropes. Dracula wheeled about, hissing.
Colding was face to face with the Romanian pirate overlord. Those fangs must be two inches l-
Dracula slapped Colding's M4 rifle aside. Colding's rifle was slung to his body, so it didn't leave him, but the force of Dracula's slap had tossed him into Barnes, knocking both men to the floor of the cabin in a clatter of metal on wood.
Father Rodriguez leapt over the desk in the center of the room and from behind began to strangle Captain Dracula with his Rosary. Vampires don't breathe, but Dracula's hands clawed at the beads around his neck, deathly allergic to the holy icon. His feathered hat fell to the floor in the struggle.
Colding got to his feet and pulled what looked like an epinephrine pen out of his cargo pants and pulled the cap off, revealing a silver alloy needle. He stabbed the needle into Captain Dracula's chest. Dracula's pupils dilated wide, coloring his red eyes black, and his struggling went slack and loose. The thudding of the helicopter was distinctly closer now.
Barnes unstuffed a black, plastic body bag from the back of his tactical vest. Father Rodriguez released the Rosary from Dracula's neck and helped Colding and Barnes stuff the vampire into the body bag. Colding zipped the bag up, and Father Rodriguez secured the zipper with the Rosary.
"Let's see him try to get out of that!" Colding said, amused.
The helicopter was now directly over the aftcastle of the galleon, the thunder of its rotors could be heard over the sea swells through the shattered glass, as well as felt throughout the wooden ship.
Colding unclipped his repelling rope from his harness and secured it to Dracula's body bag. Meanwhile, topside, Johnson had untied Colding's rope from the railing of the fantail and secured it to a line that dangled from the helicopter.
Johnson's voice broke in on everyone's earpieces, "towline secure".
Colding brought his thumb and index finger to his throat mic and said, "roger that. Bag secure, bag secure. Vampire away!"
Colding spit on the body bag and shoved it out the broken glass window into the sea. The line swayed and the bag swung wide over the black sea. The helicopter pulled away, towing Dracula beneath.
