Submaray

The Coast Guard and Drug Enforcement Agency had repeatedly warned the public to exercise caution when on the water that summer; boat thieves and drug runners were increasingly a problem in the Gulf and the approach of an unidentified vessel was reason for anxiety. Jason pulled up his shorts, pumped out the commode, and then rushed to join his companions on deck. As he ran, he could hear men shouting and cursing in English and Spanish. Then he heard gunfire, the familiar ta ta ta of assault rifles. He burst through the hatch of the thirty-foot fishing boat, stepped on deck, and saw the bow of a black motor sailor pointing straight toward him. It was twice the size of the Skipjack, less than thirty feet off the port beam, and coming fast. Bullets from AK47s screamed past Jason's head. He ducked, looked for Tim and Chuck.