28

“Pirates always hold the advantage,” explained Brad, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table in the sky lounge. “As the hunter, they choose the time and place. And, of course, they know that a yacht like this is virtually defenseless.”

“But what about NATO’s counterpiracy operation?” asked Connor.

“Yeah,” said Ling, through a mouthful of tuna salad. “They’ve got warships that can protect us.”

Brad laughed, a deep booming sound as loud as a foghorn. “That naval task force is pretty much useless! It’s not their fault, mind you. With just one small fleet in an ocean this size, it’s like a single police car trying to patrol the whole of France. An impossible task. Therefore, at sea we’re on our own. And we must be prepared to defend ourselves.”

The week of intensive MARSEC training had flown by. The two of them were now proficient in reading radar, interpreting charts and using the yacht’s comms equipment. Brad had also shown them how to tackle onboard fires, deploy a life raft and fire a flare gun, and what the emergency procedure was for abandoning ship. Now, over lunch, their mentor was briefing them on the ship’s security plan in the event of a pirate attack.

“Our defense strategy is to Detect, Deter, Destroy,” he said, thumping the tabletop to emphasize each stage. “As you already know, the key to thwarting pirates is to detect any possible attack before they can get alongside and board us. Once they know they’ve been spotted, they lose their element of surprise. From my experience, many will back off to wait for a less observant crew to sail past. So, to help us with that, we’ll use the radar, binoculars, night-vision goggles and a twenty-four-hour watch shift.”

“Will we be on lookout duty?” asked Connor.

Brad shook his head. “No, the crew might question your involvement. Between myself, the chief officer, Mr. Sterling’s bodyguard and one of the deckhands, we’ll cover that. But both of you still need to keep a sharp lookout. The more eyeballs, the better.”

Brad took a sip of water and a bite of his sandwich.

“If we do run into pirates, our next step is to deter them,” he continued, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “On a commercial ship, we would use razor wire, electrified fencing and water hoses. But I don’t think Mr. Sterling would appreciate his fifty-million-dollar vacation yacht being turned into a battleship.” Brad raised his eyebrows at his own suggestion. “So initially we’ll have to rely on Captain Locke outrunning them and performing evasive maneuvers. Meanwhile, we’ll try to attract attention with distress flares, searchlights, sirens and, of course, the radio.”

Ling set aside her empty plate. “I hate to say this, but we’ve seen a video clip of a pirate attack. Their skiffs are pretty fast. And they have rocket launchers. I don’t think a few flares and a bit of fancy sailing is going to dissuade them.”

“Fair point,” admitted Brad. “But most pirates prefer an easy target, so such a strategy can and often does work. Although you’re right, some can be more determined. If that’s the case, then we destroy them.”

“So what weapons do we have?” Ling asked eagerly.

Brad offered an awkward smile. “That’s a tricky issue. At sea, international law allows merchantmen to possess and use firearms for self-defense. But in most ports it’s illegal to carry guns. So it’s a bit of a catch-22 situation.”

“Then what are we going to use?” asked Connor.

Brad raised his hands, palms up. “Pretty much anything goes. Although the Orchid is his pride and joy, I’ll persuade the captain to ram the pirates. That’ll be our most effective tactic. But it carries its own hazards, including damaging the screws and even holing the hull itself. So we’ll also toss storage nets over the side to foul their outboard motors, and use the foam fire extinguishers to make the most accessible decks and stairways slippery. And, of course, fire flares directly at their skiffs.”

He finished off his sandwich and put aside his plate.

“Once, I was on a ship where pirates managed to attach a grappling hook to the side. We threw a fridge full of Coca-Cola into their skiff!” Brad laughed at the recollection. “Their skiff took in so much water, they had to cut loose.”

He waved a hand around the yacht.

“The prime objective is to keep the pirates from boarding the Orchid. Think of the hull and gunwales of this boat as castle walls. As long as they’re not breached and the pirates don’t reach the main deck, we’re in a strong position.”

Connor glanced down at the stern to where the tender garage was. The bay doors were open, and he could see the ship’s engineer, a silver-bearded man by the name of Geoff, overseeing the delivery of a brand-new pair of Jet Skis. The tender garage was the lowest point of the yacht and appeared very vulnerable to Connor.

“What if the pirates do get aboard?” he asked.

“Then our last resort is the citadel,” replied Brad.

Connor and Ling both gave him a perplexed look.

“Safe room,” he clarified, pushing back his chair and beckoning them to follow him. They headed down the staircase to the main deck and through the galley before stopping beside a large bulkhead door.

“This leads to the crew’s quarters and is our designated citadel,” explained Brad. He slapped the door with the palm of his hand. “This bulkhead can be double-locked from the inside. It’s made of steel, so it’s bulletproof. And down below we’ve got all we need to survive for several days—food, water, sanitation and, most importantly, communications equipment. If we’re attacked, your first priority is to ensure the girls are inside the citadel. Then, God forbid, if the pirates do breach our defenses, along with the rest of the crew, we join them.”

“But won’t we be trapped?” said Ling.

Brad nodded emphatically. “That’s the point. Trapped and safe. Once we’re all inside the citadel, military forces can storm the ship with minimum risk to our lives. However, the citadel is effective only if everyone makes it inside.”

“What a cheery conversation!” said a blond-haired young woman, emerging from the crew’s quarters.

“Hi, Soph.” Brad grinned, offering his most charming smile. “I was just explaining the emergency procedures to Mr. Sterling’s guests.”

Sophie, a young English stewardess from Southampton, gave Connor and Ling a sympathetic look. “Don’t let him freak you out,” she remarked. “Brad can be a little anxious before a sailing.”

“Only because I want to keep everyone safe, including you, sweets.”

Sophie arched an eyebrow at Brad, the corner of her mouth curling into a coquettish smile, before strolling off down the corridor. Brad’s eyes followed her a moment. Then he snapped back to the matter at hand.

“Well, that just about wraps up your training,” he said, clapping his palms together and rubbing them. “All work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy. Take the afternoon off.”

“Thanks,” Connor replied, a little stunned by the sudden grant of leave.

“About time,” muttered Ling under her breath.

Brad was halfway down the corridor before he turned back to them.

“Soph’s right, though. I do get a bit edgy before a trip. But failure to prepare is preparing to fail. And our ‘security lifeboat,’ so to speak, needs to be watertight before sailing.”