A rocket zoomed past PT 264 in the harbor, but PT 53 took a direct hit in the wheelhouse, the captain and pilot volatilized by the blast, the rest of the crew on deck blown off the ship. Out of control, the vessel continued on its last heading and charged straight for the shore.
Out beyond the breakers, the captain of PT 286 could only stare as a Firebird from shore streaked by through the smoke-filled air, heading toward the pirate vessels, then swept back across the lord baron’s armada. PT 67 was hit amidships and lifted from the water by the sheer force of the blast. PT 99 was struck in the Firebird pod, the resulting detonation seeming to shatter the world.
The rest of the Firebirds streaked on to the pirate fleet, punching holes in the sails, detonating in the air, diving into the sea. Only one hit a vessel straight down from the sky, disappearing into the hold. A fireball welled from the guts of the ship, flame shooting out the gunports and hatches. The rigging caught like fuses, spreading the blaze, until the ship was burning on every deck. Dozens of pirates leaped into the ocean, only to begin splashing madly as they found the water filled with sharks.
Across the harbor, Brandon couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Four of his ten gunboats annihilated by one of their own, only two enemy ships sunk. It was a disaster! Kinnison would have his balls for this. Or worse.
Shouting commands, the lieutenant rallied his crew and they began waving colored flags at the ville and specific ships, assigning targets to the other gunboats. As the ville and pirate cannons roared, the remaining PT boats changed their courses while grim sec men dashed about preparing weapons.
Chapter Seventeen
Billowing smoke covered the sea, lances of flame stabbing into the murky clouds as the giant windjammers thundered volley after volley, Cold Harbor ville doing the same.
Frantically dodging the cross fire, PT boats darted about spraying the ships with machine guns, dropping the occasional torpedo or launching another Firebird, all the while being extremely careful not to hit any of their own ships again. Two of the Peteys nearly collided in the chaos, and another just missed being crushed under the foamy bow of the Gibraltar when it zigged instead of zagged.
Midway between the breakers and the dock, the old fishing trawler was moored to the stump of an old gnarled tree lying on the silvery beach.
Kneeling behind the gunwale, a sec man clutched his flintlock and watched the combat with a worried expression. “Baron Wroth, we should join the other defenders in the ville.”
“We stay and wait,” Krysty replied, the S&W .38 in her fist. “Should be here any second now.”
“What, a cannonball to blow us to hell?” another guard asked. “We must retreat to safety inside the ville while we still can.”
“Try, and you’d never get this boat ten yards from shore,” Krysty snapped over the explosions of the battle. “And stop shooting at the pirates. You’re only wasting ammo.”
The sec men did as they were ordered, but unhappily, and shared angry glances with each other.
“This is bullshit,” one man whispered. “Lord bastard’s ships are getting slaughtered. Pirates, too. No way of telling who’s gonna come out on top.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the other softly replied. “Long as we have the tech that made the black powder. Both sides will pay big for that. Our lives, slaves, anything we want. What do you think?”
The first guard nervously glanced at Krysty and didn’t respond, his pensive face racked with indecision.
Creeping to the bow, Mildred risked a quick look at the noisy battlefield. The dead were everywhere, wrecks burning as they sank, the sharks going berserk in a feeding frenzy, and worse, a glow was rising from the jungle behind Cold Harbor. The Firebirds that missed the ville had set the jungle on fire, even more smoke thickening the sky and lowering visibility. It also neatly removed the possibility of running into the greenery to wait out the fight and steal a boat after it was settled. They were trapped, with the fire and the enemy ships forcing them toward the cannon of the ville. Classic rock and a hard place.