Hello Air Pirates,

Last weekend a group of friends of mine got together and filmed a few pages from the novel to put up on the campaign site.  The scene is from here in chapter 4, so take a read and I’ll be uploading the short movie in a few days.  Enjoy!  EH

(Illustration: Alexa Reid & radial engine)

Chapter 4.

The ramshackle hut at the end of the dock clatters and bangs like there is a brawl raging on inside. Jimmy races out and piles supplies on the dock near the rear hatch of the tethered seaplane. Standing nearby, Alexa waits with a backpack and medium sized duffle. He glares at her annoyed and races back into the shack. Jimmy momentarily sticks his head outside to gape at her, shakes his head staggering for words and ducks back in to finally yell through the window.

“So, you’re saying … Even if I don’t take you, they’ll shoot me and sink my plane, just so you don’t leave this island?”

Alexa watches as Jimmy exits the hut with another bag of supplies and tosses it into the seaplane’s cargo hatch.

“That’s right.”

He gives a huff and runs back into the shack, quickly returning with a sawed-off pump shotgun, 1911 automatic pistol and a shot-shell cartridge belt over his shoulder. Jimmy jacks the pump on the shotgun and checks the empty chamber.

“It’s a sure bet they’ll try to kill me if I do take you?”

He sets down the shotgun with the twelve-gauge cartridge belt and pulls back the slide on the handgun, chambering a round. Alexa smiles at him meekly.

“Probably.”

Jimmy lets the slide slam back and clicks on the safety.

“So, I guess, you win and I’m screwed!”

“You have to understand these men.”

He waves the pistol toward her angrily.

“Wrong, I don’t have to understand them. They’re probably about as wacko as you. If you’re conning me or spinning tales so I’ll take you, I’ll kill you myself.

Unintimidated, Alexa ignores the gun and stares straight at Jimmy.

“Captain Ferral, you will be well paid. I promise.”

Tucking the pistol into one of the packs, he fastens the straps.

“You’re damn right I will be.”

The Grumman seaplane sits patiently rocking in the lagoon as Jimmy loads supplies through the back hatch door. Alexa sits inside on a wooden box as Curtiss lies across her lap getting his belly rubbed. Jimmy looks at his hairy co-pilot and shakes his head in disgust.

“Curtiss, you have no idea what kind of trouble that woman is getting us into.”

She rubs Curtiss under the chin and Alexa looks up at Jimmy. 

"If you don’t hurry up and get us out of here, we just might be in trouble.”

“Lady, I’m not flying over miles of open waters and uninhabited islands without a few supplies.”

Jimmy stops with one foot in the rocking seaplane and one still on the dock as he suddenly turns his ear out the doorway. The distinctive sound of multiple airplane engines can be heard in the near distance. Alexa recognizes the sound of the pirate seaplanes and jumps to her feet, tossing Curtiss from her lap.

“That’s them. We have to get out of here, now!”

Curtiss quickly climbs up to a netted nest in the corner of the cargo area. Jimmy drops what is in his hands and looks to Alexa sternly.

“Stay put!”

Dashing out of the seaplane cargo door, he runs to the end of the dock and watches as the two black Catalina seaplanes pass overhead. He runs down the dock, grabs the shotgun and cartridge belt full of twelve-gauge shells and looks up again. The World War II surplus warplanes circle once then approach for a landing.

“SHIT! Shit!”

Jimmy runs back to the Grumman seaplane as the Catalina PBYs touch down on the water and glide toward the beach.

Alexa stands and watches from the shadows, just inside the hatch. Jimmy pushes her aside and enters. She follows him to the front of the cargo area and watches as he starts to shuffle gear.

“Now, can we get out of here?”

He looks over his shoulder at her and shakes his head.

“We’re not going anywhere. Those Catalinas are military Black Cat warplanes. I saw fifty caliber guns on the side blisters and twin thirties in the nose turret. They would shoot us right out of the sky.”

“Don’t you understand yet, Captain Ferral? They are going to kill you if they catch me.”

Jimmy moves another bag and pulls on one of the interior panels of the cargo wall. The cavity in the wall houses the mechanism for the retracted wheel struts and enough space for a small person. He shoves Alexa into the narrow nook and picks up the shotgun. 

“Time to get small”

“What are you doing?”

Jimmy slams shells into the underside of the sawed-off pump shotgun then looks up at Alexa as she adjust herself in the cramped space.

“They’re not going to find you in here. Stay in there until I come for you.”

Jimmy gives the shotgun a pump and tosses the ammo belt aside. He hands her the shotgun and gives a strained smile.

“If anyone other than me opens this panel, blast ‘em.”

Alexa looks at Jimmy in horrified shock as he replaces the cargo wall section and closes her in. He quickly piles supplies in front of the panel and carefully conceals Alexa’s hiding place.

The two Pirate Catalina seaplanes idle their engines near the beach and the narrow inlet to the lagoon. Once in position to block the exit from the cove, the overhead radial engines chug to a halt and the floating hulls drift to a soft landing in the gentle rollers. The three bladed props rotate slowly then cease all movement. There is a brief calm before the hatches and doors on the two seaplanes swing open. 

An assemblage of Air Pirates climbs from the seaplanes into the shallow surf and move onto the sandy shore. Automatic rifles slung over their shoulders and pistols at their sides, the pirates spread out and secure the area. 

Jimmy walks toward the beach down the narrow dirt path and tucks his slab-sided, forty-five-auto pistol in his back waistband under his shirt. He peruses the beach while doing a headcount and firepower assessment of the dozen or so pirates.

“Hello there, boys. I haven’t seen Catalinas like these since the war.”

The greeting is met by cold vacant stares as the pirate crew continues to spread out along the beach. Jimmy stands and watches intrigued as all eyes drift toward the seaplane nearest the shoreline. Captain P.M. Rasmus steps from the rear hatch and pays no heed to his shoes or linen pants as he plods through the small waves. The flying boat captain walks up on the beach, tips back his grey fedora hat and touches a probing finger under his leather eye-patch. 

Rasmus scans his good eye along the beach and looks over at Jimmy at the edge of the jungle. He walks toward him with an air of strange pleasantness.

“Good afternoon. Captain James Ferral, I presume?”

Jimmy nods as Rasmus walks up the beach toward him and extends his hand. They exchange a firm handshake and Jimmy tries to relax into the strange encounter.

“Well, my friends call me Jimmy.”

Rasmus gives a pleasant smile and looks over Jimmy’s shoulder toward the Grumman seaplane tethered in the lagoon. He eyes the supplies still on the dock and the seaplane sitting at an oddly canted position in the water.

“Captain Ferral … er, Jimmy. My name is Captain P.M. Rasmus. I believe we have a few business matters to discuss.”

Jimmy looks around at the surrounding pirates occupying his beach. Though nonaggressive at the moment, each man seems ready for action and armed to the teeth. He studies the one-eyed Air Captain before him and gives a feeble shrug.

“Step into my office.”

The sun dips low, coming on evening and the ramshackle hut sits in the shadows of the surrounding jungle. Down along the beach, the Air Pirates lounge in clustered groups around small campfires. A flaming oil torch at the end of the dock reflects light on parts of the lagoon and the port side of the seaplane.

Illuminated by a squat and melting multi-wick candle, Jimmy and Rasmus sit across from each other at a table outside the hut near the dock. About halfway through a bottle of rum, Jimmy offers another glass to Rasmus which he declines. He sits straight in his chair and examines Jimmy with his one clear eye.

“You say again, the woman stopped by this morning?”

Swaying with obvious drunkenness, Jimmy looks over at his copilot Curtiss sitting on a chair next to him. The monkey has a rum-filled tumbler which he holds, dipping and licking his finger. Jimmy looks back to Rasmus.

“Huh?”

“The woman?”

“Yeah?”

“When was it exactly she approached you?”

“She came by late morning, afternoon … something like that. Probably two or three hours before you landed my beach.”

Rasmus looks over at the Grumman seaplane again curiously.

“Your cargo area is loaded for a journey. Why did you decline her business offer?”

Jimmy takes a sip of rum and lets it settle in.

“Well, I’m headed out on a run and her plans didn’t fit into my busy schedule.”

Jimmy chuckles to himself at his own mention of a schedule.

“Did she reveal her plans?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m booked.”

Studying Jimmy intently, Rasmus probes for semblance of truth.

“Do you know where she went after you turned her down?”

Jimmy smiles and sits back in his chair with his full glass of rum. He gives it a swirl and glances over at Curtiss.

“Nope, I told her to go back to the village and find someone else. She’ll probably end up renting one of the boats for hire there.”

Noticing Rasmus’ eye wander to the seaplane again, Jimmy dumps half his rum to the ground and brings it to his lips as if drinking. Rasmus brings his attention back to the seaplane pilot and Jimmy raises his glass in a toasting gesture.

“I appreciate the drinks ‘nd all, but like I told you before, I have to pick up some cargo in Fiji to take over to the Tonga Trench.”
Rasmus scrutinizes Jimmy and seems to lose his feigned humor.

“When my men return with the woman you can leave. Until then, I’ll compensate you for your time lost.”

“Yeah, how’s that?”

The Pirate Captain pulls a leather pouch from his inside coat pocket and carefully opens it. He shakes three gold coins into his hand and places them each on the table with a snap. Rasmus secures the pouch opening and puts it back in his jacket as he watches the pilot gaze over the coins wide-eyed. Jimmy looks up at Rasmus and smirks.

“I can wait as long as you need.”

The bottle of rum is nearly empty and Curtiss sleeps with his head down on the table. Rasmus sits perfectly straight and finishes his glass of libation. Jimmy leans in with his elbows on the table and casts a heavy-lidded sozzled gaze to the Air Pirate Captain seated across from him. He tries to concentrate his focus on Rasmus with rum-soaked eyes.

“Why was it again you has to get this woman? Kinda young for ya … she your girl or something?”

Rasmus remains poised, but irritated with his lack of progress.

“Captain Ferral, my business with this woman is of a personal nature.”

Jimmy drunkenly reaches out and takes hold of Rasmus’ forearm.

“I get it. You want her as your lady-friend? Not much personality, but nice …”

As Jimmy mumbles out his last words, his head slumps to the table and he passes out. Rasmus firmly removes Jimmy’s hand from his person and sits staring at the drunken heap.

“For your sake, I hope you know nothing about her …”

Rasmus stands and looms over the table. He looks from Jimmy face down on the table to the monkey copilot curled up on a chair quietly snoring. 

“… or tomorrow your hangover will be the least of your pains.”

The distinguished aviator shakes his head slightly and steps away. Rasmus stands at the edge of the jungle path looking out over the starry reflections on the lagoon.

“Where are you girl?”

He strides down the dirt path, walks past the few remaining fires on the beach and disappears into the shadows.

Next Chapter: Hero Seaplane Giveaway!