Devon
"Everybody look sharp, we’ll be making contact in less than three minutes," Agent Kahler called out. "Doc, radio back to base and let them know our status and confirm our position."
"Copy," Doc said, and did as requested.
We had one shot to get this right, and to pull it off we had to be convincing. Everyone on board looked the part. We were clean shaven and in uniform. It was actually a little unsettling to see my brothers looking so "civilized," and I wondered what Poppy might have to say, from a research standpoint. Regardless, we had to tread very carefully.
We had a chance of boarding without incident if the Russians believed we were simply a fish and ga patrol cruiser, but if they slled either the FBI or the club, we were in for so serious trouble. The closer we got to our target, the Iolanta, the more I thought about Poppy, and how pissed she’d be if I went and got myself dead. I had no intention of inciting her anger, but I did say a little prayer for coverage.
No more ti to think. We were coming up on their ship, and we were coming in fast. If we gave them enough ti to react to our approach, they might get spooked and open fire, or worse yet, kill the girls just to keep them from talking. Finally, just as we arrived, Agent Kahler signaled for Doc to hit the lights and sirens.
"This is the Georgia State Fish and Wildlife service. We request imdiate access to your vessel for inspection. I repeat, we are wardens from Fish and Wildlife service requesting to board your vessel according to state code 27-5-4," Agent Kahler called out through the boat’s loudspeaker. "Please respond."
Doc cut the sirens, and after ten seconds without a reply, Agent Kahler continued, "This is the Georgia State Fish and Wildlife service requesting permission to board the comrcial vessel Iolanta. We are ard and are permitted by law to search your vessel for potential illegal catches from these waters."
We had no idea if they’d respond, or worse yet, if they’d respond with bullets. After a few more, very tense, seconds, a voice responded, "This is Captain Vasili Sokolov of the Iolanta. I believe you must have made a mistake, we are not a fishing vessel, as you can see. We are a cargo ship only."
"Captain, we have reports of illegal fishing in these waters by comrcial vessels and we will be boarding your ship for inspection. Please allow access and ready your crew for imdiate boarding." Agent Kahler’s voice was intense and commanding, and without further dialogue, a rope ladder appeared from our enemy’s ship.
"Here we go. Everyone look sharp and don’t make a move without my say so." Kahler’s eyes darted to each of us, stopping on Alamo. "You solid?"
"Fuckin’ A. Let’s do this," he responded.
We all had side arms, and Doc and Alamo were also ard with a Colt M4 assault rifle and a Remington 870 shotgun, respectively. These were standard issue for law enforcent, but we were still going in about as heavy as possible without drawing too much suspicion. That was the idea, anyway. If these Russian assholes had itchy trigger fingers, we were gonna have to find cover quickly and pray our Kevlar vests did their jobs.
By the ti we hit the deck, Captain Vasili and about a half-dozen crew mbers were on deck. However, rather than a barrage of bullets, we were greeted with open arms and smiles all around. I wasn’t sure which was more unsettling.
"Officer, welco aboard, how can I—"
"It’s Warden," Agent Kahler’s alter-ego interrupted. "Captain, where is the rest of your crew?"
"They are in... various places performing their duties. This is most of our crew. The rest are of no consequence." Captain Vasili’s accent was thick, and he looked like a man who’d spent his entire life on a ship... in very rough seas.
"Captain, I’m going to need to see your entire crew on deck, right away."
I saw the captain briefly eyeball our weapons. His sly smile masking any trace of concerns he may have. I almost wanted a reason to shoot this fat, greasy, sea pimp. He nodded to a tall man who appeared to be his Lieutenant, who then made an announcent in Russian over the loudspeaker.
"I said all crewmbers, Captain, not just critical personnel," Agent Kahler said, closing the distance between himself and Captain Vasili, his hand now covering his sidearm.
"You speak Russian?" The Captain smiled wide.
"Fluently," Kahler replied with an icy tone.
Once again, the captain nodded to his second, who made yet another announcent, and this ti crew mbers began filing onto the deck.
Alamo, Doc, and I ford a semi-circle around the crew and ushered them against the rail. As instructed by our FBI handlers, we were firm, but non-aggressive, pleasant, but not nice. To my eye, these guys mostly looked like guys that work aboard boats. Bad guys co in all shapes and sizes, but having been around my fair share in my lifeti, I simply wasn’t getting that kind of vibe from this crew.
"I count only eleven crew mbers here? Seems a little light for a vessel of this size."
"Does it? As you can see, we currently have only a dozen containers on board. We work for a small group of Vodka makers who distribute their product to the United States. We hire who we can afford at the ti of shipnt. Unfortunately, business has not been so good, given our two countries’... political situations, but perhaps you are right, Warden. Perhaps we are a bit... shorthanded at the mont."
"Sir, you and your n are to stay right here with my wardens as we search your ship for any illegal catch or unlicensed comrcial fishing gear," Kahler said.
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