FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

The yacht was located in the marina which was the old port of Marseilles or as the French call it, Le Vieux Port. It also was within walking distance for us. Need I say it felt really odd walking through the streets down to the marina dressed in feminine garb. We were quite the bevy of beauties. The humor of the situation, however, eluded me as my heart was frantically pumping adrenaline through my veins clouding over any thoughts  other than those of rescuing Rogue.

We spotted the ship from a distance exactly where Moe said it would be. I don't know if you would call it a mega yacht, but it was a damn big boat. It was a multi-decker, maybe forty yards long and ten yards wide. The top was an open sundeck with a small roof where radomes and weather sensors were mounted. Below the sundeck was an enclosed bridge deck. I could see the pilothouse at the front of the bridge deck. It had a hundred and eighty degree view forward but an obstructed view aft. Below the bridge deck was the main deck. Below that, just above the water line, you could see portholes for the lower deck no doubt where most of the cabins would be. At the aft of the ship, down a dozen steps or so from the main deck, and just below the port hole level of the lower deck, was what a landlubber like me might call a porch or what a recreational boater might call a swim platform. It was only a foot or two above the water line and wrapped around the aft of the ship. It would make boarding from another boat easy.

My observations are normally not this detailed, but before now they never had to be. The adrenaline was making me acutely aware of my surroundings. For what we had planned, a detailed idea of the layout of the ship was critical. I asked Jeff if he was familiar with the layout of that model. He explained to me that many boats that size frequently have custom interiors; so, it was anybody's guess exactly how it was laid out. The only things they don't change are the locations of the pilot house and the engine room. Anywhere in between there would be staterooms, crew cabins, galleys, heads, recreational and lounge areas, and whatever else suited the owner's fancy. Jeff did say for a ship that size, it probably had a crew of six to eight people which agreed with what Moe had told us.

We could see at least two crew members on deck. They were preparing the ship for sea. The girls began practicing their best "hey sailor" come-ons. Unfortunately, they were not going to get to use them. The ship was pulling away and heading out to sea.

At that moment, a black hole struck the earth beneath my feet after passing directly through my chest and sucking out my insides gut first. All the adrenalin that had been flooding my system was now in a puddle at my feet. At least, that is what it felt like. The infinite vacuum pulling on my heart and soul was like I never felt before. My only hope for rescuing Rogue was sailing away and I was helpless. I had no idea how I would track her down once she was lost in the maze of the underworld of human trafficking.

I don't know how I managed it, but by sheer force of will, I pulled my self together and said, "We're going after them!"

"How do you propose we do that?" Janet asked.

"We grab a boat and go after them," I said.

"Well, we are supposed to be pirates after all," Steve said seemingly intrigued by the idea.

"That is stealing," Sara pointed out sheepishly.

"More like borrowing," Rick suggested. "But even so we might need keys for the engine and would have to find a boat that's fueled up. She's not moving that fast, but fast enough that we don't really have much time to shop around." He pointed to the departing ship.

I was also looking out to sea as the ship and my hopes both receded. The Mediterranean breeze blew across my face easing the burning in my eyes. Then I saw the docked J/80 racing sloop and I knew what we had to do.