Chapter 41

41
ABOARD RESURRECTION, BRAZILIAN COAST, SOUTH ATLANTIC

Mr. Santos appeared from below fully dressed, as always, in a three piece suit with a carnation in his lapel. Smiling broadly, he strode toward his Client. "Good morning! I thought I might take a cup of coffee with you two if you don't object."

"Please, come and join us! Jesus and I were just enjoying this beautiful morning with the ocean and the sea birds. It reminds us of the island a little. Of course, we never had bacon on the island!" Juan laughed, popping another strip into his mouth.

"I hate to be the one to bring you this news, but you should know that you can eat too much bacon. It'll make you fat, and then the girls won't like you." Santos -- along with Jesus and Juan -- began to laugh. "There is something else going on, though. Something we need to discuss."

Jesus looked at the lawyer. "Every time you get in that mood, life gets interesting."

Victor Santos straightened his tie and sat down comfortably at the table. The sea was calm for the South Atlantic, and the Resurrection was making headway only sufficient to keep her into the swells. The mainland coast was visible as a thin line on the horizon. "We may be having some company this morning. In fact, I'm surprised that we haven't seen them by now."

Juan leaned back from his breakfast, interested. "Who would come all the way our here to see us? Friends of yours?"

Santos scanned the horizon again. "Actually, not exactly friends. A few people are still a little miffed at my treatment of General Ortiz. You may have noticed that he doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor."

Jesus looked up, "I sensed that in the man. I don't really dislike him, but if it's all the same with you, Mr. Santos, I would rather stay here on board than go with him."

In the most subtle degree possible, Santos once again looked out at the horizon. Finally, he turned back to look to the north again. Just at that moment the Captain appeared, hat in hand. "We have them on radar, sir. The ship is standing by for orders."

Santos asked the rather nervous officer, "How many? I can only see one."

"There are three of them, sir. They appear to be very old ships, probably US surplus destroyers or even smaller. Possibly destroyer escorts. The lead ship is closing at about fourteen knots, and the other two are shadowing to either side." The Captain replaced his hat as he completed his report.

"I'll accompany you to the bridge, Captain." Santos turned to face the two young men still at the table, "Jesus, Juan, you may join us up above if you wish. I must ask you to keep to yourselves, though. The bridge crew may get pretty busy."

Juan was already on his feet, and Jesus was close behind him. "What's going to happen?" they asked in excited unison. "It's General Ortiz again, isn't it? asked Jesus.

Victor Santos laughed reassuringly. "No, this time I'm sure they have sent someone else. We should be alright. We have a good crew and a good ship."

Once on the bridge, Santos motioned firmly where the boys were to stand, then turned his attention to the matter at hand. Speaking to the Captain, he suggested, "I think we are probably encountering quite a good deal of static in our radio reception just about now."

"Resurrection. This is the Brazilian Navy ship de Camo. Resurrection. Resurrection. Respond." This reception was completely clear.

The Captain spoke slowly into the microphone. "This is Resurrection, de Camo. You're breaking up. Please repeat." This message was almost completely obscured by static even as it was monitored on the bridge of the Resurrection.

"Resurrection. You are in a combat zone. You are instructed to make for Guanabara Bay at once. We will escort you." Again, the message was clear.

"de Camo. Are you in combat? Please repeat. de Camo. Are you in combat?" The Captain's voice was buried under static. Santos, looking on, nodded his head in approval

"Resurrection. Your must make for port now. The Americans are going to attack in these waters. Make for Guanabara Bay at once. We will escort you."

"de Camo. Roger Guanabara Bay. We were just there yesterday, but we didn't see any Americans. We will escort American ships per your orders." The engineered static was having the desired effect on the radio man aboard the de Camo. The exasperation in his voice was a clear sign that confusion had once again defeated force. The radio fell silent.

Santos spoke to the First Officer. "What is the range to the lead ship now?"

"All three of them are within fifteen minutes at current course and speed, sir." He left the radar and took up his binoculars. "They are making best speed. Those old tubs are making plenty of smoke to pull sixteen knots." He continued to speak as he watched the war ships come up on the stern of the Resurrection. "The Diaz, the de Camo and the Bolivar. Three little destroyers."

"Captain, match speed plus two knots for the time being. Let them follow us out to sea for a while. Make that radio completely unusable." Santos gave orders with the same total calm that always was his style.

Jesus, sensing that things had settled a little, asked, "Mr. Santos, are the Americans coming here to have a battle with those ships?"



"I cannot allow these young men to fight just because I am here. No, I would never allow that. There will be no battle. There will be no dying and wounding on My part. The battle is canceled." Jesus spoke with a very convincing tone. "No battle for the Diaz and the Bolivar and the de Camo. No battle for the Americans. No battle."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Santos asked Jesus. Santos was concerned at the unusual outburst. "President Falau has probably ordered those war ships to attack the Americans when they arrive even though the U. S. ships will have enough guns to blow them out of the water. He wants to make an incident. There isn't any way to stop that no matter how much we want to. That's the way navies work."

"Mr. Santos, I am not the least bit worried about what is happening to this ship. That is the case because I have every confidence in you and her crew. You, on the other hand, should not be the least bit worried about this war happening. In that matter, you can have every confidence in Me. There will be no war here on My account." Jesus spoke so directly that everyone on the bridge was transfixed by His words.

The Resurrection made her way slowly out to sea with the three destroyers trailing along at their best speed a half mile behind. Jesus, Juan and Mr. Santos were enjoying lunch under the canopy aft when the Captain appeared again.

"It's plenty of time for coming about now, Sir." he announced, as always holding his hat.

"Very well, Captain. Bring us about and head for Rio at top speed. Pass no closer than ten miles to any of those destroyers. They might become, shall we say, ambitious once they comprehend what we are up to. With our Passenger on board, I won't risk enticing some trigger happy young officer into taking a pot shot at us. Those five inch guns probably won't even fire, but let's not take any chances." Santos calmly picked up his cup and saucer to enjoy his after lunch coffee.

The Resurrection now made a lazy turn, wide and away from the war ships. She quickly came to speed as her twin turbines vibrated the deck ever so slightly. At forty knots her pursuers faded rapidly into the horizon. The ignored radio messages, still arriving and now ever more desperate, were littered with threats.

It was evening as the yacht slowed to enter Rio De Janiero's harbor. Santos had ordered the Captain to show all lights -- staterooms, lounge, everything. She looked a bit like a miniature cruise ship. The illumination was more a statement of defiance than a disguise. And the statement was not missed by elements of the Coastal Patrol. They had orders.

Victor Santos found Juan and Jesus in the main lounge reading old editions of National Geographic. "Gentlemen, it is time for us to leave Brazil. The situation here is deteriorating, and I feel some growing concern for Your safety. Please meet me at the helicopter deck at Your convenience. We should try to get airborne within a few minutes. There seem to be hostile forces making their way here as we speak. I think we can assume that this will be General Ortiz, or at least people acting under his orders."

"Can we bring these magazines, Mr. Santos?" Juan asked.

"Of course. We may have a long flight tonight. The magazines will be a good idea. Now, please. Let's board the chopper and get away from here." Santos seemed to be feeling a little urgent, but he remained imminently mannerly and calm on the exterior. The sound of the helicopter's engine drifted into the interior of the ship.

The three of them made their way aft to the waiting copter, but before they could board the entire aft deck was bathed in spot lights.

A booming voice traveled out to them over the dark ocean. A megaphone was making direct communication after the radio 'problems' which had plagued them all day.

The message was abundantly clear. "Do not attempt to launch the helicopter or we will open fire! Stop the engine! Secure the helicopter!"

The Captain appeared, this time a bit calmer than when the war ships had overtaken the yacht earlier. "They are forty foot coastal boats with a single thirty calibre Berlinnetti. The one that's doing all the talking is in close, about fifty yards and the other one is trying to sneak around the other side."

Juan was beginning to show a bit of uncharacteristic concern. "Will they really fire on us?"

Santos laughed again. "No, he might try to disable the helicopter, so we'll wait a few minutes before we depart." Turning back to the Captain, he added. "Let them come in a little closer, then you know what to do."

"Yes, sir." the Captain snapped. Turning, he made his way back to the bridge.

The Captain of the patrol boat off Resurrection's bow starboard was in constant radio communication with his superiors. "We have her bracketed, sir. I am proceeding with orders to board her." "Yes sir. Both of our deck guns are targeting the helicopter and nothing else." "No sir, the engine is still running, but no one is aboard except the pilot." Both boats were now approaching Resurrection. The closer of the two was no more than twenty yards off the bow.

The voice of the Captain suddenly boomed back to the patrol boats. "This is Resurrection. You are ordered to stop your engines and remain where you are. Do not attempt to board this vessel. Do not move to fire your deck guns. Remain where you are!"

The deck in front of the bridge was suddenly lit by bright floodlights. The deck plates seemed to explode to either side and a strange rounded object was rapidly elevated upward on a pedestal until it was higher even than the bridge. It seemed to rotate so quickly that it was not possible to really see any details of what it was.

The patrol boat Captain had seen the red dot of the targeting laser sweep across his vessel. He knew what it was, and he told his superior breathlessly. "It's a twenty millimeter Vulcan, sir! It's acquired both of us with targeting laser. I am complying with Resurrection's demands. We are standing down."

The voice from the radio responded angrily. "You are ordered to board that ship. You are ordered to take her Passenger into custody!"

"Sir, that electric Gatling gun can fire six thousand rounds a minute through this patrol boat. This boat is already ranged and targeted. I saw the laser. I will not sacrifice this crew! I am ordering both crews to abandon ship and row out of range of that thing." He thumbed the radio to mute and gave the order to abandon ship. Moments later the entire crews of both patrol boats bobbed safely out of harm's way, four tiny life boats in the center of Guanabara Bay. They could see the helicopter lift off the aft deck of the Resurrection in the distance.