Fallen Out: Jesse McDermitt Series, The Beginning by Wayne Stinnett Page A

“Learn anything?”
    “Yeah,” I said as he helped me onto the swim platform. “We’re in deep shit.” Savannah wrapped a towel around my shoulders as I removed the rebreather and fins.
    “Remember that family that disappeared a couple weeks ago? Husband was found adrift, but the boat, his wife, and two daughters were never found?”
    “Yeah,” Rusty said. “What about them?”
    “I’m pretty sure the mother and daughters are aboard that trawler. And those guys are coming back with heavy firepower for more. Unlash the dinghy.”
    I went into the salon, drying off as I went. I quickly changed into dry clothes, knelt down by the foot of the bunk and punched in the code to unlock it. I raised the bunk, opened the chest and removed all four boxes, along with a fly rod case, then closed it back. I carried everything into the salon, where everyone had gathered. Josh had sent his daughters back to their boat. I picked up my Sig from the settee where I’d left it and handed it to Jimmy, then opened three of the boxes and handed Savannah, Tonia, and Josh identical Sigs, extra magazines and ammo.
    “Me and Rusty are gonna run an intercept. Those guys are planning to circle the island and come up on us from the stern. We’ll go up the creek and find a place where we can try to stop them. If they get past us, don’t hesitate to use these.”
    “This is crazy!” Tonia said, putting the gun on the table like it burned her hands.
    I turned to her husband, “Josh, these guys are in the sex slave trade. We don’t have a lot of time. If they get to us, they’ll kill the men and take the women, including your daughters, and sell them. Most likely to Arabs.”
    He looked stunned . Then he quietly picked up the gun Tonia had placed on the table and turned to his wife. “In case Captain McDermitt is right,” he said gently. She looked at him, then to each of us, and finally out the porthole at their boat, where her daughters were.
    She took the gun from her husband and said, “I don’t even know how to use one of these.”
    “I do,” Jimmy and Savannah chorused. Savannah inserted a magazine and quickly chambered a round.
    “Go Skipper,” Jimmy said. “We’ll take care of things here.”
    I turned as Rusty came through the hatch with a long, nylon rope coiled around his shoulders. “Ready when you are, brother.”
    Carrying the fly rod case and the fourth box, Rusty and I went out to the cockpit with the others following us. My Zodiac was tied off to the stern, its 20 horse Yamaha idling quietly.
    “You plan to do some fly fishin’?” Rusty asked with a grin. “ Or did your new toy arrive?”
    I just grinned back at him and said, “You drive.”
    “Be careful, Skipper,” Jimmy said.
    “Get an email off to the Coast Guard, Jimmy. Give them the GPS coordinates of the trawler in the next cove and if you can find the names of the mother and daughters on the internet, tell them they’re aboard.”
    “What are you going to do, Jesse?” Savannah asked with genuine concern.
    “We’ll try not to hurt them, but I’m not gonna let them get past us. It’s the same four guys from Dockside the other night. When we come back, I’ll flash a light three times. Please don’t shoot us.”
    Rusty settled his portly frame in the stern and I took the forward seat, facing aft and untied the painter . Tossing it onto the swim platform, I pushed the bow away and Rusty put the engine in gear and moved slowly away from the Revenge .
    “You wanna cut that light on?” Rusty said. “I can’t see shit.”
    Opening the box, I removed two Pulsar Edge night vision optic headsets and handed him one, after first switching it on. “Here, see if this helps. Just don’t look toward any bright lights.”
    He fitted the head strap on his bald head, settling the optics over his eyes and said, “Damn, man! Where’d you get these?”
    “Had ‘em shipped, along with the rifle,” I said, putting my own on. “Let’s head up the creek