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As always, the Shepherd Security Team shifted into action mode seamlessly, all members acting as one. In less than five minutes following Ruiz’s declaration of the boat pulling out in thirty minutes, the five team members plus Mac met in the parking lot where the car was parked. Their dress was an interesting mix of resort casual and evening attire. All six men had three things in common. They were all armed. They all wore closed-toe shoes. And they all had the resolve to complete the mission to rescue Bella Sanguino.

“How many men are on the boat with Bella?” Yvette asked Ruiz.

“Five,” Ruiz answered. “Or at least the last time I checked in it was five.”

“When was the last time you checked in?” she pressed. She wanted to punch this guy herself, as he couldn’t give a straight answer.

“This morning before I went to breakfast,” he said.

“Call or text?” she asked, knowing they could verify it. Ruiz’s phone sat on the coffee table. The team hadn’t gotten around to digging into his phone yet.

“Text message, which I’ve already deleted from my phone.”

She transmitted this information to the team.

***

Garcia drove through the streets, ignoring speed limit signs as well as stop signs and stop lights when there were no other vehicles present. Coop rode shotgun, his maps program open, giving driving directions for the quickest route. Balancing on the armrest between them was Roth, holding onto a tear in the roof cloth with one hand and the back of Cooper’s headrest with the other. Squeezed in the back were Lambchop, Mac, and Mother, in that order, with the four rifle cases across their laps, which were now empty. The rifles were held by the three men in the backseat, plus Cooper had one, its muzzle resting on the floorboard.

When they rolled up on the Aquatours Marina, it must have looked like a clown car spilling out its over-packed occupants to any onlooker, comical but deadly. The six men sprang fromthe car; weapons held at their sides and behind their backs. The marina stretched out before them. A lone vessel headed out to sea, and somehow, they all knew she was the Delphi Princess.

One of the DEA agents ran up to them. “We’ve secured a boat to give chase. The Delphi’s just pulling out.” He pointed at the boat that was approximately three hundred yards out and gaining speed.

“Two would be better,” Lambchop said as they all ran down the floating docks towards the only boat idling in the otherwise quiet area. The other DEA agent was at the controls. Lambchop’s gaze settled on the Cigar Boat docked beside the small fishing boat the DEA agents had appropriated. “Yes,” he said with a grin. “Mother, help me with this one.” He began unbuttoning the cover, or more accurately unsnapping the cover.

Cooper, Mac and Garcia hopped into the boat that was running, as did the second DEA agent. Roth joined Mother and Lambchop. They had it open in seconds, and Mother cracked open the column of the controls to effectively hot-wire the ignition on the vessel minutes later.

Lambchop took a position at the controls as Roth untied it from the dock. Lambchop steered the high-performance luxury speedboat out of the marina, opening it up when they’d cleared the channel markers. The burgundy beauty with the sleek white stripes quickly passed the boat the others were in and then accelerated as it cut through the waves, leaving no doubt as to why this type of boat was called a go-fast boat. They caught up to and overtook the Delphi Princess, whose powerful engines were fully engaged, and continued towards Isla Mujeres.

“I’m sure there was some pucker factor when they saw us coming. And now they think they’re safe,” Lambchop said with a grin.

Roth glanced behind them at the lights of the yacht growing smaller as they widened the gap, only now noticing how dark the night sky was. When had the clouds gathered? It had been clear all afternoon. Good, it was always preferred to operate in darkness. What the enemy couldn’t see, they couldn’t fire upon.

It was eight point four one nautical miles from the mainland to Isla Mujeres. Mother tapped out a text to Cooper as the roar of the boat’s engine made the comms useless. Ideally, they wanted to intercept the Delphi Princess before it rendezvoused with the boat Bella Sanguino would be transferred to, but they needed to know where that boat was.

We’re going to circle and look for the boat the Delphi is meeting. We’ve got one large vessel on our radar, six nautical miles out, which is my guess. Going to take a quick look at the smaller boats in the immediate vicinity to be sure.

Cooper responded.

Roger that. We estimate our ETA to overtake her as twenty minutes. Don’t be late.

We’ll come in first and buzz the bow of the yacht to get their attention while you get dropped at the stern, which has a swim platform. We’ll take up coverpositions and engage if needed while you board. Have your craft clear within seconds, making room for Crash to drop us.

The small fishing boat the DEA had secured was doing its top speed, which put it only one knot faster than the Delphi Princess. The water was calm. As long as that remained the case, the fishing boat could push its design limits.

Lambchop made a wide loop around the area, finding only a few small fishing boats, all of which were manned by a couple of locals each, fishermen for sure. The larger yacht six miles out, and headed on an intercept trajectory towards the Delphi Princess, was the target transfer boat, he was sure. He piloted his commandeered boat back towards the Delphi Princess, its lights barely visible in the distance.

The hum of the high-performance engines was a welcome serenade to the on-the-fly planning that took place through text messages. Overtaking and boarding enemy sea vessels was a well-practiced maneuver for the Navy SEALs and Marine Raiders, or as it was called, VBSS, an acronym for Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure. The three men on the Cigar Boat had practiced and executed this mission hundreds of times over their careers. Cooper, a Delta Operator prior to his time at Military Intelligence, had received maritime interdiction training as well. And Garcia, a former Army Ranger, was also more than capable of the mission. The Ranger Creed states that a Ranger is ‘a more elite Soldier who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air’. And Garcia embodied that creed.

Mac and the two DEA agents were the unknown factors in the equation. “You ever do this before?” Cooper asked Mac and the two agents.

“Board a boat?” one of the two agents asked. “What do you think we do to recover the boatloads of drugs we intercept? Wait on the dock for them to tie up? Yeah, we got this,” he said, almost offended.

“Can you get us up to the back to board?” Cooper asked.

“Just be ready to move. We’ll come alongside,” the other agent said.

Cooper’s gaze shifted to Mac.