Pirates of the Atlantic - Part II - Tranquility's Secret

Cutting through the waves, Tranquility races through the ocean at an astounding 41 knots. The ocean liner is large, it’s heavy with its triple steel hull, it’s also fast as hell with a triple length rudder for maneuverability.

On deck, Leo continued to play by himself in the pool while Marcus and I went over the draft prospects of the Triad. So many names wanted a piece of the Triad. So many ego’s required fluffing. I wondered to myself how Marcus, who was never good at managing ego’s, would manage to soothe the ego’s of those that suffered defeat.

Mostly what I wondered to myself was if they’d even draft me. I have a checkered past with the three owners of the Triad. None more so than Marcus himself. Judging by Marcus’s own statements as we chatted and sipped our drinks, there was no guarantee they’d be drafting only the best of the best. Had it been a best of the best scenario, I was a lock. People will say a lot of things about me, and that’s just the nature of the business. When it’s all quiet, and the cameras are off, and all the fans have gone home… when no one’s listening, I’ve been told often how much they respect me and my abilities. To be fair, while I've always appreciated the kind words, their opinion doesn’t matter to me. What matters is results. Not so much results in the win loss column, though I’ve been ridiculously successful there too, but more along the lines of attendance numbers, of gate, of ratings, of being special enough that when you show up somewhere, others stop and take a look.

That’s my legacy in this business. From the XWF, to IIW to OCW. I have never not made a mark.

“...with Pinkston,” Welsh finished his statement that I wasn’t paying attention to.

“Pinkston got most all the tools,” I said to him. “What he lacks in in-ring technical ability he more than makes up for with cunning and intelligence. You know as well as I do that it’s not always the best wrestler that wins a match, but the one that fights the smartest.”

“And Matt Knox, I mean, what else can you say about the literal father of professional wrestling?” Welsh asked almost rhetorically.

“Don’t say that out loud to him,” I laughed. “Last thing that guy needs is anyone sucking his dick better than he sucks it himself.”

“I thought you two were friends?” he questioned.

“We are,” I answered emphatically. “Doesn’t mean I don’t roll my eyes when he’s figuratively blowing himself.”

At least two hours from the American shores, certainly in International waters, the captain blows the deafening horn from the bridge. Looking up toward him, he’s pointing out toward the horizon. I can’t see much of anything but a black dot.

“I don’t see anything,” I called up to him.

“Here!” he yelled back while tossing a pair of binoculars to me.

“What’s going on?” Welsh asked as I made my way to the bow railing to peer through.

“I’m not sure,” I answered as he came to stand beside me. “Maybe nothing.”

It took a moment for me to find what I was looking for.

“Shit,” I said under my breath.

“What is it?” Welsh asked.

“See for yourself,” I said as I handed him the binoculars.

“They really have Jolly Roger flags flying?” he asked as he saw the fleet of pirate ships coming toward us. “I thought pirates were fictional.”

“You crash landed a plane on a volcanic island inhabited by cannibalistic savages and you think pirates are fictional?” I scoffed.

“I just mean I know they existed before, but I didn’t think they were still a thing,” he said. “What are we gonna do?” he asked.

“Well for now, we’re gonna continue on our route and monitor the situation,” I began. “If it looks like they’re diverting their course to follow us, then I guess you’ll get to learn why Tranquility is as big as she is.”

“There’s a reason?” he asked. “Figured it was just absurd rich boy ego.”

“That’s what a lot of people think,” I stated as I took the binoculars back from him and peered through again. “What they, and you, fail to remember is that when I commissioned this ship, I was still the target of a terroristic plot to kill me and my family.

“I was never too careful. I always had to be prepared to survive, Marcus. Do you really think I’d have had this ship built without a way to protect those I love?”

“No, I guess not,” Marcus agreed.

“They hijacked and shot down my planes, Welsh,” I continued on. “They attacked and razed my house to the ground. Vacationing on the sea wasn’t any more safe, or less dangerous than on land. Tranquility has a secret, my friend.”

We continued to power forward for another twenty minutes or so as we monitored the situation closely. Leo continued to play in the pool like a child, oblivious to the peril we may have found ourselves in. Welsh grew quiet as he followed me at a distance around the deck. Most beings are born with the genetics for survival. By and large, most humans are never faced with the situation of kill or be killed so they never need to tap into it.

“You’re gonna learn today, my friend,” I said to Welsh as we cut through the galley to the other side of the deck.

“Learn what?” he asked.

“Those fuckers are comin’,” I stated as I handed him the binoculars again. “Look at the breaking water at their sterns. They’re turning toward us.”

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he looked through the glass.

“Hard left rudder!” I called out. “Ahead full!”

In seconds, the massive ship turns a sharp left, leaning her left side to a steep angle. Now headed in the direction of the pirates, the steep lean alerted the previously unaware Leo as water spilled from the pool and over the starboard side bow.

After the ship settled to an even keel, Leo joined us at the bow railing. Wearing flippers, goggles, arm floaties and a pink rubber ducky ring that Caty uses when she’s aboard, Leo wondered what was happening.

“Thad, what’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Pirates,” I answered calmly.

“What? For real?” Leo laughed before looking over at Welsh. Marcus looked worried. Almost scared.

“Hey Cap!” I yelled up toward the bridge. “Man up!”

A second or so later, the buzzer sounded and the captain came over the address system.

“All hands on deck, all hands on deck,” he ordered. “Pirates inbound, pirates inbound. Man your battle stations!”

“Battle stations?” Welsh questioned.

As he asked, flashing red lights attached to the side railings all started up at once. Just below the deck, steel hull panes retreated outward and clanged against the hull as more than fifty cannons were put in position. On deck, floor boards fell away and folded up inside as deck guns and missile launchers revealed themselves, rising through the floor.

“Hollllyyyy shiiiiit,” Leo said, mostly to himself.

“We’re gonna engage them!?” Welsh asked with worry evident.

“Yes,” I answered stoically as we steamed ahead.

“Are you outta your mind?” he asked as he moved in front of me. “This ship does what? 45 miles an hour?”

“She tops out at 48,” I answered while we made our way toward the stern of the vessel.

“All the more reason we should just outrun them!” Marcus protested.

“That’s not me, Welsh,” I argued. “I’m the kinda guy that turns around and runs headlong into it. Besides, this ship is fast, but they’re faster.”

“Can’t we make it back toward shore?” he continued to argue. “They’ll turn around once we hit American waters.”

“Yeah they probably would,” I agreed with him. “What you don’t get is that territorial waters only begin seven miles from the coast. They’ll make it to us long before we make it to the line.”

Now headed toward each other, the considerable gap between us lessens dramatically. The men aboard are former U.S. Navy. They know what they’re doing. What the pirates are sure to learn in short order, is that like her owner, Tranquility is tough to beat.

“My man,” Leo said as we made our way back toward the bow. “How much it cost to turn a yacht into a warship?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” I answered as the seven pirate ships are now just about a half mile away.

“Boss, they’re on the radio ordering us to stop,” the Captain calls out from the bridge. “If we don’t, they will fire on us.”

“Tell them…”

“Thad, let’s think about this,” Welsh pleads. “You’re a war veteran, these guys are war veterans. If we let those sons of bitches come aboard, you guys can take them out.”

“Yeah probably,” I agreed. “They got seven ships though. As soon as we open fire on their sailors, those other ships are gonna try and sink us.”

“Boss?” yelled the captain as the lead ship of the pirate fleet fires a warning shot that wizzes by Tranquility.

“HARD RIGHT RUDDER!” I ordered. In just a quick second or two Tranquility is now broadside to the approaching vessels. Without replying with a single word to them, they knew my reply. With the side facing them now, they could clearly see the deck guns.

“OPEN FIRE!” I ordered. They were scrambling before the order. What they thought was going to be an easy target of a rich guy and a big boat, turned out to be anything but.

The men cleared their weapons, punching holes and starting fires aboard the lead ship. Men aboard that ship are fleeing and scrambling, some jump off the boat and into the sea to avoid burning alive.

“Jesus Christ,” Welsh mutters under his breath.

"Nah," I said as a hand signaled to the bridge to circle the enemy fleet. "I don't think that's where they're goin'."

The battle raged for a good 45 minutes. Once the pirates realized what was happening, it became a game of cat and mouse. We'd fire our weapons, they'd fire theirs. Most of them missed, some didn't. Tranquility was fit for battle though and resisted most, only taking on superficial damage while we managed to sink two of their ships.

With five remaining, they spread out like an American war fleet, trying to box us in. My captain is good. He bobbed and weaved like a slalom out of the box until they managed to box us in.

"Stop the engines!" I called up and soon, the double lifed luxury liner slows to a carwl.

"We're a sitting duck, Thad!" Welsh cried out.

"Relax Marcus," I said to him.

"Relax!?" He repeated incredulously. "How can you tell me to…"

Finally, I handed him the binoculars.

"We radioed for help as soon as we spotted them," I informed him.

With the enemy ships at a stop, none of them are looking at us, but out to their other side. Steaming toward them at full speed with the stars and stripes flying from their masts, the U.S. Navy has entered the chat.

"Get us out of here, Cap!" I called up to the bridge. The warship is quickly reverted back to a luxury liner as we made our way out of the box.

The pirates were ballsy as they opened fire on the Navy. The military might of the United States made quick work of them. Disabling their rudders, two more of the pirates' ships were sunk beneath the waves. The three remaining surrendered.

"Skip, radio my thanks and appreciation to those seamen," I called up.

Leo laughs, naturally.

Marcus looks on quietly. I don't know if he's impressed, pissed, or if he's taking mental notes of the ordeal he'd just been through. For me, it felt fantastic. I haven't been in a military battle in over a year. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it to some extent. My life is different now. I'm no longer fighting for survival. Instead, most of my days are spent at home on Long Island with my wife and kids where I live a semi-normal life as a business man by day, and a family man by night.

This though… it brought back some things. It got my blood flowing like it hasn't since my last war ended. Being at war for the better part of eight years, anything else seems kinda… blegh.