Page 44 of Pierre
“Lock them up,” said Pierre. “Gather your gear. We’re about to stop a coup.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Josie relaxed on the deck of the ship. They had cordoned off a section just for her. Of course, she’d paid for it with sweat, blood, and cash.
Designed to transport sea containers, it was transporting coffee and fresh fruit. And children. At least as far as their little island getaway. It hadn’t been hard to find the location. There were dozens of uninhabited islands in the area where fresh water, fresh fruit, and fish were plentiful.
At first, it was just a few young men, pre-teens mostly, who were still eager to make a change and get away from their circumstances. Then it was dozens, now hundreds of boys between the ages of five and fifteen, who were trained every year to return to Haiti and begin the process of a takeover. The women knew it would take time, but they were willing to bet on them outliving the evil presence on the island.
She, Rosalynn, Mabel, and Vera were sick of seeing the kids dying in the streets after all their hard work to change their futures. Finally, exhausted and losing hope, they decided to take matters into their own hands.
“We can make this place better,” Josie said to her fellow teachers. “We’ve all seen what a mess it is. We’re smart, we have money saved, we can figure this out and run this island the way it should be run.”
“Josie, it won’t be that easy,” said Vera. “Others have died trying to do the same. This place is doomed. We’re here, doing a good deed. At least trying to create a generation of children that can read and write.”
But Josie wasn’t to be deterred. She was determined to convince her fellow teachers, and others along the way, if she could. But she had to create a believable story.
That story started with Josie. She found an old article about an almost saintly nun. Sister Josephina. She’d changed the entire mindset of those on Haiti dozens of years ago, helping to solidify Christianity over voodoo. It was a short-term effect, but she’d done it. The people loved her and believed she was sent from beyond to save their tiny island.
The people were so gullible, it was easy to take the woman’s name and identity by claiming that she’d been resurrected by the very voodoo she denounced. Especially when her own name was Josie, which she claimed was short for Josephina.
When she began approaching the children, many were reluctant and suspicious at first. But since the women were teachers, and the boys knew it, they became less reluctant. Others were happy to have somewhere safe to lay their heads at night.
The small structures built on the island were nothing special but far exceeded those in Haiti itself. Every boy had his own sleeping mat or small bed, sometimes a small hammock.
Since most came from homes with multiple generations, their lodgings felt superior to those at home.
The boys learned fighting skills, shooting, and how to use a knife, all from a few older boys who’d been trained by criminals in Haiti.
Their first foray into the takeover had been to cause unrest in the government itself. Children complaining of kidnappings, drugs being offered to them on the streets, fueled unrest and discord among adults. A few then complained that it was the government officials themselves who attempted to kidnap the children.
The calm presence of Sister Josephina came along and assured them that all would be well. Resurrected to save the country, she would ensure that all would be well in time.
It was so easy. So simple to fool their small minds. Of course, a few boys had died along the way. That couldn’t be helped. But they all knew the consequences and knew that they were better off on their own little island than in the chaos of Haiti.
A few had been taken from the Dominican, mostly from resorts, ensuring that they weren’t locals, and the risk of identifying them was lowered considerably.
Lately, it had become more difficult, and vying factions were fighting for land, ownership of the criminal entities, and the boys themselves. She had to get them up and running soon.
Wondering where her fellow septuagenarians were located, she sent a text message wondering when they would arrive with the last of the boys. Her calls to the team in the mountains seemed to fall on deaf ears, but she would handle that later.
When she received a text message that they were on their way, she was thrilled, notifying the captain that they could be underway soon. Her dreams of becoming the ruler of this evil country were closer every day.
Henri could not believe what he was hearing. He’d encountered one of the teachers once before and found her to be charming, loving, and like his own grandmother.
“What do we do?” he asked Pierre.
“We’re going to get on that ship, get the children off, and arrest her and the crew. They know what they’re doing, and according to manifests, they’ve been at these docks at least once a month for the last ten years.”
“Is that unusual?” asked Henri.
“Unless they were only delivering to the Dominican, it is unusual,” said Butch.
Before they reached the docks, they stopped near the water, allowing Cruz and Doc to exit in their wetsuits. They seemed unusual to the men from Haiti, but then again, they didn’t have a lot of experience with wetsuits.
“Doc and Cruz are former Navy SEALs. They’ll be swimming around the first ship there and climbing up the anchor chain to get into the hold of the ship. They’ll get the children out, lowering them to a boat with Tucker and Fish. The rest of you, round up the crew, use these zip ties to secure them, and we’ll find Josie and the captain.”
“You make it sound so easy,” smirked Henri.
