Pages of Modern-day Pirates

The First Chapter Of "Modern-day Pirates"

These are genuine words that were written over 10 years ago. They are not words to entice you to pay for something you might not want or like.

This is the first book of the trilogy, giving you an idea how some modern-day pirates operate' and how they have operated in the past. I know because I have seen the aftermath.

The consequences for those involved are unpleasant or disastrous. From these experiences I have written a fictional story drawing upon some observations of facts.

Here first chapter of the extremely exciting e-Book: 'Modern-day Pirates'.

Chapter 1

Juan & Fidel

Manghana was very busy all along the waterfront, it was market day and the market people were going eagerly about their early morning chores. Others were already drinking coffee or having a brandy to get the day off to a steady start. The waterfront cafés was the first to open. They opened very early in the mornings with the bars opening later in the day.

However, one bar had stayed open all night, much to the barman’s disgust. He was a short fat man with a thick moustache and greasy black hair around the sides of his bald patch. He wore a cotton shirt and trousers that should have been washed weeks before. He was very tired and wanted to go to bed. But there was some serious drinking going on in his bar.

Several hours before, he’d thought that there would have been a lot of trouble. He could feel it in the air. Still, he was more than grateful that his fears had proved groundless. Not that he could have done anything about it except stand behind the bar and sweat more than he was now, mostly with fear.

Today the tropical heat had made him exceptionally tired he was going into spasms of dozing off and suddenly coming round. He was abruptly brought to his senses when two of the strangers went for each other. As he watched them, he froze. When their fists started flying, his face made several grimaces. There was the sickly sound of a fist crunching against skin and bone.

One guy was taller than the other, although they both looked lean and strong; the shorter guy looked as though he was getting the upper hand. Then ‘Lofty’ ‘nutted’ him sending Shorty’crashing to the floor he quickly jumped up, fearing a boot in the head.

He disliked what had just happened so he pulled out a blade and lashed at Lofty, cutting a gaping wound in his arm. Now it was Lofty’s turn to pull out a knife, it was bigger. Moving quickly he stuck it into Shorty’s shoulder with a downward lunge. At the same time Shorty’s knife went in towards Lofty who had only half parried it. It entered the soft flesh of Lofty’s side.

They pulled their knives out of each other’s wounds and tried again. They glared menacingly into each other’s eyes. Each was desperate to kill the other. Judging from the blood that had already been spilt, the fight had all of the makings of having an out-and-out lethal ending.

They were both battered and wounded. It looked as though they should have already been dead, but they were a long way from that, they were both determined to fight to the death. It was a sure thing that one of them was going to die.

They carried on fighting like wild animals, each wanting to show the other who was the best. They both knew that only one of them would live through this experience.

Suddenly half a dozen policemen came charging into the bar in an attempt to stop the early morning fracas. The two men who were fighting for their own survival saw that their situation had changed. Instinctively they both turned and ran for the rear entrance.

Although they were hardmen, neither fancied taking on that many men. They dashed through the back entrance as fast as they could go, with Shorty taking the lead. Lofty’s wounded hip was slowing him down but he was determined to get away.

The policeman in the front managed to grab hold of Lofty by his arm. Lofty’s knife was in the other hand. In his desperate attempt to get away, he slashed at the policeman’s throat, cutting it open with deadly precision.

The next two policemen in line stopped and assisted their wounded colleague, while the other three continued to run after the trouble makers. They only half-heartedly chased after the now wanted criminals.

Lofty ran on in the direction of the waterfront. He watched Shorty pull a guy out of a large motor boat equipped with a big outboard engine at the stern. The chap who owned the boat started to argue with Shorty. It was a bad mistake. Shorty stuck his knife into the owner’s stomach and shoved him into the water.

The police had also seen the incident. They pulled their guns out ready to shoot. They were running and trying to get within a good shooting range of the villains. When it looked like they might get away, the police stopped and opened fire shooting wildly.

The shots came in a huge volley hitting everything except the main targets. Lofty ran to the edge of the quay and fell into the bottom of the boat before it left the wharf. ‘What kept you?’ asked Shorty, smiling through a face full of sweat and dried blood. ‘Just get the hell out of here,’ shouted ‘Lofty’ who was getting a little concerned about the accuracy of the bullets that were ricocheting off the side of the boat. They were coming too damn close for comfort.

It was a very good fast boat with the powerful engine giving it plenty of speed. They both knew that they would get away. In the distance they could see the police scrambling into their launch but it was futile it would be no match for the one they were in.

They headed out to sea heading away from the port, then they continued along the coast until it started to get dark. They were looking for somewhere safe to hole up for the night.

They stopped at an old rickety jetty that was no longer in use. It had belonged to a barangy (Filipino Village) and had once been a place of importance, but now it was deserted.

They tied up the boat and had a quick look around to get the lie of the land. They found an inlet close to the old barangy. It was all overgrown but it was an ideal place to hide the boat for a couple of days.

The two men hadn’t spoken much but now each found himself forced to respect the other, fore they had unintentionally become a team. It was only because they had acted closely that they had managed to make their getaway from Manghana.

They had both killed without giving it a second thought or entertaining any emotions or feelings for their victims. They both realised that they were very similar in character they had without unknowingness made a bond.

The bond was that of equality of honour, such is found among thieves and murderers. They would now be prepared to fight for each other to the death if the need ever arose.

They went over to the derelict basher (hut). There were holes in the roof. That didn’t matter to them; it wasn’t the monsoon season. The most important thing was to get the boat put out of sight. Shorty drove the boat slowly into the inlet while Lofty pushed the overgrown jungle apart, using a long stick that he had made from a branch.

When the boat was far enough into the inlet so it would not to be seen, he let the branches drape back into place, covering their craft. When it was perfectly camouflaged from sight, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

They went back into the basher taking care not to make their presence too obvious to anybody that might be in the vicinity. After looking around they used some sticks and branches that had fallen to the ground in the course of nature to build a frame inside the existing building.

It would have been easier to repair the derelict building, but then this would be too noticeable. The two men quietly cut down some big rattan leaves and placed them over their framework structure so that they did at least have some protection if it should rain.

When they heard the police motor launch approaching that was slowly nearing their temporary base. They watched the spotlight flicker over their position. They lay there motionless, watching and listening as it passed by.

Since the spotlight was not very bright, they realised that they had a good chance of not being discovered. They watched until they heard the motor launch gradually fade into the far distance.

Then they stayed in their positions for a little longer, in case the police launch should turn round and come back. Only when they were sure that the launch had definitely gone, did they dare move away.

They found a flashlight on the boat it wasn’t very bright but they could see their way around. They continued their search until they found a cupboard with some food in it. There was only a little food and a half empty bottle. The food they shared out the half bottle of brandy they hung on to.

They were both aware that they dare not talk openly. They couldn’t cook, smoke or make any noise or show a light outside of the cabin, for fear of giving away their location.

They put the food and drink aside until the next morning, they couldn’t do anything except go to sleep and wait and see what fortunes would lay ahead the next day.

The next morning after they had eaten and passed the bottle of brandy round a few times the taller chap said quietly. ‘My name is Juan Domal.’ He looked at the shorter guy more closely.

It was then that he noticed that the scar on the side of the latter’s face extended down the side of his neck. It made him look even more vicious than he had first realised. Juan had definitely underestimated his opponent when he took him on in the bar.

Then he didn’t like the man, but now he was grateful to Shorty because he had helped him to escape the law. ‘Fidel Jaena.’ Shorty spoke loud enough to be heard only by Juan.

The dawn chorus had woken them both up at the same time not- that they had slept very well. Their wounds keeping them awake and then there was hassle with the mosquito’s attacking them all through the night.

Fidel spoke: ‘We had better clean up and have a closer look at our surroundings.’ He was making himself the leader. Juan felt that he should be in charge because he was bigger and stronger.

Juan was tall, slim and dark and very good looking-well that was his opinion. Fidel had taken control so Juan would have to accept this for the time being. They went to the inlet where the boat was rocking gently on the water running in.

They washed the dried blood off of their faces and bodies. The bruises were shining and the blood around the wounds had dried hard. Where the blood had congealed in the scabs they could only wash over it.

Now was the right time of day to have a drink. Only in the mornings and in the evenings was it essential to take on a lot of liquid. It was wiser not to drink at all during the daytime as it made you thirsty and tired.

Laziness and lack of self-control caused weakness. This was something that Fidel and Juan could not afford to accept if they were going to stay alive? Whilst operating beyond the law then they had to be sharper than the lawmen that were chasing them.

They had washed in silence one washed while the other listened for any tell tale noises that could mean a predator. Then they would reverse their rolls until they had both finished their daily routine.

It appeared that they had found a safe haven where they could stay for a few days. They had plenty of water now; all they needed was some fruit to eat. They scanned the jungle looking for old or new tracks. When they came across any tracks, they walked along the side of them without ever setting foot on them.

One track led them to the outskirts of a barangy. The village was occupied but it was too big for two people to take on. They stayed in the jungle, looking into the barangy for some time before moving on.

The only weapons that they possessed were their knives. They made their way back to their place of residence via another route finding some mangos to take back with them on the way.

By the time a week of recuperation had gone by, allowing their wounds some time to heal, they had explored most of the terrain in their area without being detected. There was only one section left to search, and they were going to undertake that today.

Juan and Fidel set off early to see what was in this area, while they were passing through the jungle they heard some noises. Sensing some excitement they listened more attentively, it sounded as if there were females talking to each other.

If this was the case then there had to be a man there somewhere. He had to be there to protect his wives. This was quite normal. A man would be guarding his wives while they worked the land.

Realising that they had gone as far as they dared go without being noticed, Fidel pointed with his finger and they backtracked until they were out of hearing range. Then he said: ‘These people are obviously thinking of setting up residence here, so they won’t be going anywhere. If we move out this afternoon, we can go back and help ourselves to those women.’

'Well, let’s go back and put some supplies on the boat-all we need is some fresh water and some fruit.’ suggested Juan.

The two men made their way back to the boat. They put their supplies on board. Then they managed to turn the boat around and get it facing out towards the sea. Then they went back along the trail that they had made, to where they had heard someone talking.

When they arrived back at the same spot they sat down and listened once more. After a short while they heard the voices again. They rose to their feet both realising that they could only move while speech was taking place. Using the sound of voices to cover their own sounds, they managed to get very close.

They eventually got to the perimeter of the plot of land. They waited hiding behind the big trees, keeping quiet and listening. They dare not take a peak to see what was going on, because that could give the game away; they might be spotted.

They knew that the moment they stuck their eyes around the side of the tree, the man would more than likely spot them. He was their only problem; he would fight determinedly to the death.

The closer that they could get to him; the more successful they were likely to be. It sounded like there were four or five women. Far more than enough for their needs! But first they would have to kill the man.

They stayed at the back of the big trees, looking at the women, none of them were very pretty-but then who cared? Who was going to see what happened anyway? No-one-they were sure of that. By carefully studying at the position of the females, they could make a rough guess as to the whereabouts of the male. Although they couldn’t actually see him, they estimated that he had to be on the other side of the clearing.

They knew that it was too risky, to try skirting the clearing without being detected. It only left them one choice and that was to go straight for the man to kill him. Only when he was dead could they go after the women. There was no telling if their plan would work or if they were thinking alike, because this was their first mischievous spree.

Fidel took his knife out and pulled it across his throat. It was the signal to go into action. They both appeared from behind the tree at the same time with their knives in their hands. The females panicked and started screaming.

They could only guess what was going to happen as they huddled and cringed together screaming loudly. They did not know what to do or even how many men there was or where they were. They did not know which direction would be the safest to run in.

It was up to their husband to do his best. He was duty bound to protect them. They watched as he drew his gulluck (jungle knife) and moved towards the two men who had evil intentions.

He had only used his gulluck for hacking his way through the jungle. Never did he realise that one day he would have to use it to try to save his wives or his own life. The two vicious looking men separated to trap the man in the middle.

He and his women now knew that his fate was almost certainly decided. When the men closed in they could only watch in horror as the knives of the two villains stabbed into his body until he was dead.

The women now realised their only chance of survival was the jungle. They all ran frantically, going in different directions and screaming wildly with fear. Fidel caught hold of one of the females, punching her so hard that she lay on the ground unconscious.

He grabbed another by her long hair and ripped all of the clothes off. He lost no time helping himself to her wriggling body. Juan had run after the other three. The first one he caught up with was running past a tree as fast as she could.

He gave her a mighty shove, which sent her head crashing into the trunk, killing her instantly. He ran after another who was a bit too fast to catch, so he let her get away and went for the other woman, grabbing her round her slim waist.

He lifted her off of the ground and while she was still screaming with fear, he hit her hard in the face, until she stopped. Then ripping her clothes, off he undressed and forced himself into her whimpering body. After he had finished with her, he sank his knife deeply into her heart and watched as her life left her body.

Fidel came over and said: ‘I killed the other two. Where’s the other one?’ ‘She got away. She went in that direction,’ Juan answered. ‘Let’s take a look to see how far she has gone,’ Fidel replied.

They followed the track a little way when they heard a faint whimpering sound under some ferns. Lifting the ferns they found the young female the one that had run away. They smiled at each other pleased with their find. Now there would be no live witnesses.

No one would ever know exactly what happened in that jungle clearing that late afternoon. The girl had twisted her ankle in her panic to escape, and had tried to hide from her assailants. Unfortunately for her, her fate was inevitable.

She had not seen what had happened to her colleagues. So long as she had heard their screams, she knew that they were still alive. After the screaming had stopped, she could only guess what had happened to them. Fidel pulled her up like a rag doll.

They could now see her swollen foot and that she could not walk. If she could not walk, then she was of no use to them. Fidel held up her dead husband’s gulluck. All of her worst fears were then realised; it was making her whole body tremble. She was sobbing and shaking so much that it started to make Fidel angry. He brought the gulluck down onto her head, killing her instantly.

They cleaned their knives on some leaves before putting them back into their sheaths. Fidel cleaned the jungle knife and then they made their way back to the boat. They’d had enough excitement for one afternoon.

Back at the boat they waited until the jungle was in total darkness before they pushed the craft out and let it drift on the open sea. After paddling it quite away, Fidel started up the engine and set a random course to anywhere out on the open sea towards their next adventure.