Assault on the Atlantic
By Byron Rider
()
About this ebook
Michel was a poor young French man who was cruising to the United States to find the American Dream. His ship is attacked and burned by Atlantic pirates and he is rescued by a Navy Ship in the ocean. He thinks himself safe, finally, and on his way to the New World, when he is attacked and raped on the ship.
Petty Officer Jeremy Martin, with the help of a few Marines, band together to try to see Michel safely across the ocean. Unfortunately the crafty assailant has better ideas.
Friendships turn to love on the High Seas, but is there enough there to keep the two together, or will fate and law keep two men from finding their forever?
Byron Rider
Byron's love of books came early in his life; exposed to all the adventures of the past and present and speculative futures through the books his mother painstakingly purchased through his life. Byron loved to organize, catalog and otherwise stay involved in the acquisition and enjoyment of books. He learned about exotic places, adventure, suspense, horror and even love through the pages of paperback books. He has enjoyed reading since his older brother taught him to read at five years old. There were no books that were too boring or mundane to open and peruse. This behavior created the person who now not only loves to read, but loves to write. His biggest obstacle is not in writing the books, but in how others would view him for what he put in the books. His sense of propriety needed to be overcome to truly write what he wanted. He has overcome this obstacle, somewhat. The LGBT, specifically gay romance, has become the genre of choice for both Byron's reading and writing adventures. His life has been a road traveled under the guise of complacency and obedience. From parents who expected it, to the military that commanded it, and to corporate America who required it. There is no time in his life when he found himself; he is always that which others thought he should be. He is lost in his own time while seeking that which he is. Byron found that making waves makes conflict. He avoids conflict by conforming; he prefers invisiblity. The choices one makes are usually those that guide your future. Byron is no different. Necessity guided him toward writing. He writes to earn money to supplement his meager salary as an adjunct college professor--his expertise: Psychology. The economic status of his household dictates that he write, or find other venues to supplement the small income he acquires doing that which he does love--teaching. Today he is seeking out his own personal and unique identity as Byron Rider - Author.
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Assault on the Atlantic - Byron Rider
Assault on the Atlantic
Copyright 2015 Byron Rider
Published by Byron Rider at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition License Notes
Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.
Disclaimer
The locations, movies, products, and such, are mostly all real. I looked up much of these using internet search engine, Google. I took a bit of liberty. The USNS John Glenn is not a large ship, but I made it one for my story. The active story characters, however, are not. If I accidentally managed to make any one of my characters seem like you, it was not intentional, and I hope they are the good guys.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Special Acknowledgements
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Military service is a sacrifice that only a few brave Americans choose to undergo. Although most the individuals in the military are honorable, there is always going to be a few who do not uphold the reputation. I would like to acknowledge, and thank, those young brave men and women who have chosen to sacrifice a few years of personal freedom to help fight for the overall freedom of America.
Second, I would like to thank anyone who encouraged me in any way. You are all my heroes.
Prologue
If there was anything hotter than Michel right now, he couldn’t fathom it. He was cowering in the hold. The boat was aflame and he was terrified.
Michel Souvenier was hoping for a fresh start in a new country. Taking a chance, he sold his car, almost all of his clothing. Even his precious books and computer, to buy a ticket on a cruise ship from France to Florida.
When he first decided to make the trip it seemed like the right thing to do, but now, with pirates attacking the ship in the Atlantic Ocean, he feared his new life would be cut short.
He heard men shouting in bastardized French. He understood most of what they were saying but he was much too frightened to crawl out of the hold.
He was thankful that the walls of the ship were steel. That would hopefully keep the fire from spreading throughout the whole cruise ship, but much of the interior was wood to give a classic feel to the travelers.
Now, he regretted his decisions. Mon Dieu. Please help me to stay alive in this.
Michel prayed.
There was a pounding on the door to the small closet he had hidden in. He was behind suitcases and storage bins that he had pulled out from a wall.
Monsieur. Monsieur. Are you alright?
the voice asked. It was not a man’s voice, but that of a woman. ‘Are there women pirates?’ he wondered.
He did not respond and eventually the woman left the outer area of the hold.
Michel stayed in the hold, feeling the heat surround him. He knew that the temperature was rising to a dangerous level and he had to get out. He pulled on his collar to free it from his sweat-covered skin and bit his tongue to keep from crying out his fear.
Several moments passed and Michel could no longer handle the heat. The room had reached a scorching 110 degrees and he fainted from loss of oxygen and the searing heat.
They coughed and choked, even though they wore gas masks. The heat was nearly unbearable. Petty Officer Martin. I don’t think anyone survived.
Another young sailor said to the man leading the search and rescue of the cruise ship that they spotted smoking over four leagues away.
Jeremy fought through the black, smoke-filled rooms as he went deeper and deeper in the ship.
The sixty men who were with him kicked in bedrooms, searched under tables and in cupboards in the kitchens. The theaters and other entertainment centers were all inspected. All they saw were charred and smoking bodies.
Still nothing, Martin.
Another man, a Marine, said when he had finished searching the hold. Standby.
He said a moment later. There’s a door here. It doesn’t look too bad.
Jeremy Martin waited for an update from the Marine. I think I found someone. Level 1, aft. A small closet off the main holding area.
The Marine said. He’s moving. Come help.
Jeremy took a deep breath. Someone lived. He rushed from the fifth floor, down the stairs to the first floor; the engineering floor. He knew the setup of a cruise ship; his father had helped design many different lines.
Spencer. Where are you?
Jeremy asked.
Here.
Spencer said as he pulled a blackened but clearly alive small man from the small closet.
Good God.
Jeremy said as he took the small man’s other arm. Are you awake?
he asked.
Michel Souvenier looked up for a brief second and then coughed, doubling over. Don’t try to talk, son.
Jeremy said. He didn’t know how old the small young man was but he was thankful to have found someone alive.
Captain.
Jeremy said on another frequency. We found someone alive.
Thank the good Lord.
Captain Springer said. Jeremy had to admit that he agreed.
Don’t let the powers that be hear you say that, Cap.
Jeremy teased.
Sure, Petty Officer Martin.
Captain Springer said. Bring the survivor back ASAP.
Aye, sir.
Jeremy said and nodded to the Marine.
Together they took him to the ninth level and walked across the gangplank to the naval vessel where they came from.
The young man was taken to sick bay and stripped of his clothes. He’s probably had better days.
Doc said and shook his head. Hook him up, boys.
He told his two corpsmen.
They cut his clothes off his body and he lay, naked and shivering on the bed. Jeremy and Spencer, the Marine, stood off to the side and watched the doc and corpsmen.
Is he gonna live?
Spencer asked.
I think he will, but he needs oxygen and rest.
Doc said.
Je voudrais la confiture avec mon croissant.
The little person muttered before passing out. He was then given an oxygen mask.
What did he say?
Jeremy asked.
I don’t know. It was French. Something about crescents, I think.
One of the corpsmen said as he washed the soot from Michel’s dirty body.
Jeremy stayed near as much as he could then next few days. There was something drawing him to this small person and he hoped that he was not making a mistake.
Chapter 1
The young man woke up in some kind of bed. He looked around frightened. He didn’t know where he was. The bed vibrated and he was afraid.
Allo?
he called out. Est-ce que quelqu’un est la?
Hay alguien ahi?
Is anyone there?
he spoke three languages fluently, hoping to make his way in the French consul or perhaps Spanish translation in America.
Oy. I’m here, mate. Glad to see you up and about. Name’s Martin. Petty Officer 1st Class Jeremy Martin. And you are?
Jeremy asked.
Michel. Michel Souvenier.
Michel? Like a girl’s name?" Jeremy asked.
Non. Michel is French. Mon nom est Michel. Er, Michael en anglais.
He said.
Jeremy smiled and nodded. Ok Michael in English Souvenay, Why were you hiding in the bottom of that burnt out shell of a cruise ship?
I was travelling. I was going to America. I ‘ave, no, had my passport and all my things were on that ship.
Michel’s eyes watered from fear, the heat that had burned his eyes, and from loss of everything that was his.
So, you were trying to live the American dream, huh?
Jeremy asked. His eyes were twinkling. How old are you? You don’t look old enough to go floating across the Atlantic by yourself.
I am nineteen. Old enough.
Michel said, lifting his chin and trying to look brave.
Ohh. Nineteen. That is old enough.
Jeremy said a bit too patronizing.
You do not ‘ave to talk to me like that. I ‘ave done nothing to you.
Michel became defensive. He realized the sailor was trying to tease him.
Jeremy lifted his hands in surrender. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, Michel. I didn’t mean anything by it.
He said and smiled. Welcome to the USNS John Glenn.
He said and put his hand out to shake Michel’s.
Michel looked warily at the sailor’s hand for a moment and then realized they didn’t have to save him. Merci. Thank you.
Michel told Jeremy. He frowned again and rubbed his stomach.
What’s wrong? Are you hungry?
Jeremy asked.
Oui. Non. I am very thirsty. I thought I was to become a fine French delicacy. It was very ‘ot in the closet.
I can imagine it was. Come on. Let me see if we can’t rustle up something for you to eat.
Rustle?
Collect.
Michel nodded. There is much I should learn about English, non?
he asked.
There is a lot you need to learn about American English, Michel. Come on.
Michel smiled. He liked the friendly personality of First Class Petty Officer Jeremy Martin. More than he knew at first meeting him.
Jeremy guided Michel through the ship. There are places you can go and places you are not allowed, ok?
Jeremy told Michel who nodded. He smiled at the younger Frenchman whose eyes were wide with wonder and still a little fear. Don’t worry, Michel. No one is going to hurt you here. We’re here to help.
I ‘ave ‘eard things about you American sailors.
Michel said.
Oh? What have you heard?
Jeremy asked.
Michel shook his head. I think I will decide for myself.
He said and Jeremy nodded then.
They reached the galley and Jeremy went into the kitchen. Hey, Malcolm. Do you have anything for our new little friend, here, to eat?
Jeremy asked.
You know the rules, Martin. No one eats until the bell sounds.
Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. This is the guy we fished out of that burned out ship. He’s been out for four days. I thought maybe you’d be able to show that you actually have a heart and give the poor guy something to eat.
Jeremy implored.
Third Class Petty Officer Malcolm looked at Michel and furrowed his brow. You the kid who tried to get himself baked alive?
he asked.
Oui.
Michel said and nodded.
Well, would you listen to that. The little guy is French.
Malcolm said.
Oui, I am French, but I speak, very well, the Anglais.
He said, pulling his small shoulders back.
And, he’s got gumption, too!
What is this ‘gumption?
Michel asked Jeremy.
He means you’re brave.
Oui. I am very brave. I sold my life to come to America. I will be somebody there.
The young Michel told Malcolm.
The Petty Officer nodded in approval. You have yourself a firecracker there, Jeremy. Watch out that he doesn’t go off inside the bulkheads.
Bulkhead?
Wall.
Ah. I see I ‘ave to learn another language, oui?
Oui, Michel.
Jeremy said and grinned.
Michele? Like a girl’s name?
Malcolm asked. Jeremy rolled his eyes.
Yes, Malcolm, like the girl’s name. Michel is how French folks say Michael.
Oh. Well, Michel, if you can find something you want to eat, just tell me. I can toss something onto the griddle for you. I won’t be the one who is accused of starving our little twink.
Malcolm said then.
Jeremy glared at Malcolm and shook his head. What?
Malcolm asked.
That was unnecessary.
Jeremy said.
Michel shrugged his shoulders. Twink?
he asked innocently.
Yeah. A little guy.
Jeremy answered.
Thank you. You are very kind to me. I appreciate your ‘elp.
Michel said and walked around the kitchen with Jeremy.
The 1st Class Petty Officer was now deciding he needed to keep this young French cub close to him. If one of the crew acted this way, there were bound to be more.
Michel looked around in the refrigerators and found items he recognized. Maybe you could make me some crepe’s?
he asked.
Crepe’s?
What in the Sam Hill is that?"
Thin bread, like your pancakes but very thin. We wrap them around fruit for breakfast and chicken or other meats and vegetables for lunch or dinner.
Michel said. If it is too much trouble…
Michel said.
I’m the cook here. Nothing is too much trouble. What do you want in them? Fruit, or meat?
Malcolm said, trying to bully Michel.
It was working. Michel jumped and stepped back and behind Jeremy. I am sorry.
He said to the larger man. I will eat a sandwich.
Jeremy smiled at Michel but glowered toward Malcolm. He wouldn’t reprimand him in front of the guest but he would also not allow him to get away with such rudeness.
"Come on, Michel. Let’s get some bread