(Jack)
BANG BANG the tranquillity shattered in an instant as gunshots reverberated through the trees.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I saw Aaron's eyes widen in fear.
Before I could even process what was happening, Rick was on his feet. "Put out the fire," he ordered, his voice calm but commanding. "Now."
Aaron and I scrambled to obey, kicking dirt over the flames until the fire was nothing but smouldering embers. Rick was already pulling on a shirt, his movements swift and practiced. He grabbed his gun, checking the rounds with an ease that spoke of years of experience.
"Rick, what's going on?" Aaron demanded, his voice shaky but forceful. "You need to tell us. What the hell is happening?"
Rick's eyes flicked to mine, seeing the tears welling up. I was barely holding it together, my heart pounding in my chest.
Rick took a deep breath, his expression serious. "I lied about why I was on that boat," he said, his voice low. "Being the Lead Deckhand was just a cover. I was on a mission. And it looks like that mission might have just followed us here."
Aaron's face fell, "A mission? What kind of mission, Rick? You can't just drop this on!"
Rick's calm façade cracked just a bit, his eyes showing a hint of regret. "I can't explain everything right now. But I promise, I'll keep you both safe. We need to stay quiet."
Aaron looked like he wanted to argue more, but the urgency in Rick's voice silenced him. I could feel tears streaming down my face, the fear overwhelming. Rick put a hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding me. "I need you both to trust me."
Aaron and I exchanged a glance, our fear and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. But we nodded.
"But, I need to go. I have orders," he said, his voice steady.
"What? No!" I cried, grabbing his arm. "You can't just leave us here. Please, Rick, don't go."
He gently but firmly pried my hand away. "I have to, Jack. It's the only way to keep you both safe. I'll be back. Stay here and stay hidden."
Aaron's eyes were wide with fear and anger. "Rick, you can't just--"
Rick cut him off, his tone brooking no argument. "I can and I must. Trust me. Keep of the beach," he snatched up one of the radios, "Stay off the radio until I contact you. They might be on the same frequency."
With that, he checked his gun one last time and disappeared into the darkness, leaving us stood staring at one another in bewilderment.
(Rick)
The jungle was alive with the sounds of the night, I should have focus all my attention on those gunshots, but guilt wracked through me at the look on Jack and Aaron's face as I'd left them begging for answers, I'd give them those answers, they deserved that.
My senses were heightened, every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig putting me on edge. I moved swiftly, my training kicking in, but my mind was racing.
I thought about the criminals on my boat, the ones I had left stranded on that island. It was supposed to be a simple mission: get them to the drop-off point, contact my boss, and get out. I had to protect the islands from being exploited by criminal gangs. The ecosystems were delicate, and the natives had a right to live in peace, undisturbed by the greed and chaos of the outside world.
I kept walking until I saw a faint orange glow through the trees.
I slowed to a creep as I approached the flickering flames, making out snippets of conversation, "They'll listen now," "Kill all the men, if we have to," "I say we shoot the other one too." My heart raced as I recognized Kurt's voice. How had he and his gang ended up here?
I cautiously made my way closer, crouching behind trees and bushes to avoid being seen. As I got closer, I could make out Kurt's broad back as he talked to Smithy and another guy I didn't recognise, all gathered around a fire. In the clearing, two native islanders were bound to a tree, their expressions a mix of defiance and pain, one holding his thigh which was bleeding profusely.
Kurt continued, "They won't have a choice but to submit out of fear."
His words were met with dissent from his companions. The unknown man spoke up, sizing up the situation with a mix of fear and greed. "Look at them, they're giants. Let's take them out now; the others will crumble."
Smithy scoffed at the suggestion to retreat. "You're just a coward. We'll need the men too." he spat.
I had heard enough, ideally I would have been able to check in with my boss, but that wasn't an option, I had to act, before the native lost too much blood.
Keeping low, I crept towards the two men, avoiding the light cast by the fire. I was only a few metres away when I noticed that the one without a wound was staring at me. I gestured 'shh', picked up a rock, and threw it as far as I could in the other direction. As I had hoped, the three captors turned towards the sound and started arguing about who should check it out. Unsheathing a knife, I crawled forward and cut the bindings around the uninjured man's wrist and then placed the knife in his hand before backing into the trees once more, training my gun in the direction of the captors. The native stared at me the entire time before coming to some unknown conclusion before he began cutting his binds.
Smithy looked over his shoulder and saw this. He spun, screaming with rage, shooting bullets in a fan motion. The native dove to the side, rolling to avoid the bullets being sprayed in his direction and landed in a crouched position, knife in hand. Knowing I was out of all other options, I exhaled and gently squeezed the trigger, killing Smithy before one of his bullets could find its mark.
At the same time, Kurt started running at me, I span to point the gun at him, but before I could act, the native's knife flew through the air and slammed into Kurt's throat. He clutched at it for a moment, before collapsing to the floor. Dead. The third guy, skinny with features like a rat, ran into the trees in the other direction, screaming. I struggled internally as I battled between helping the wounded or pursuing the criminal. My need to help won over, helped by the fact the man took off running in the direction away from Jack and Aaron.
The native man scrambled back to his companion, calling "Kovu, Kovu," he cut the ropes holding him upright, and as the tension left the ropes, he collapsed forward, weak from the blood loss, murmuring.
I fell to my knees beside them and looked at the wound. I was relieved to see the bullet had entered at an angle and there was an exit wound, meaning the injury wasn't too deep, but there was a lot of blood. I removed my belt and began wrapping it tightly above the wound and then gestured with pointing and beckoning to the uninjured man, saying, "You and you, this way. I can help." To my surprise, without hesitation, he stood and hauled his companion into his arms and nodded for me to lead the way. Surprised by his strength, I stooped, grabbing Kurt's fallen gun as we left the clearing.
(Aaron)
I watched as Rick's figure was engulfed by shadow. The dense jungle seemed to swallow him whole. I turned open-mouthed to face Jack, whose expression mirrored my own bewilderment and fear. "What. The. Fuck."
"What if they find us, Aaron?" Jack asked, his voice trembling.
"We'll be okay. Rick knows what he's doing. Apparently. That's why he's good with maps and survival stuff; he's trained for it," I responded, trying to sound confident.
"I hope he's okay."
"Me too."
"What are we caught up in?"
Our conversations spiralled, speculating on the various ways the islands and their unknown inhabitants could be exploited. We wondered how Rick's mission and our unexpected presence on the boat were connected. Despite the uncertainty, one thing we both felt confident in was that we could trust Rick.
Jack had just started reiterating this for the third time when a string of gunshots pierced the air, causing us to jump to our feet. Our panic quickly transformed into determination. We decided to go and find Rick--in case he was hurt. Just as we were about to leave camp, Rick's voice crackled through the radio. "Aaron? Jack? Come in."
I snatched up the radio and pressed the transmission button. "Rick! Are you hurt? We're coming."
"No. Stay. I'm fine. I have an injured native, though. I need you to prepare some stuff. We'll be about 10 minutes!"
"What do you need?" I asked, ignoring the torrent of questions falling from Jack's mouth.
"A needle, thread, alcohol, and bandages. See you soon."
By the time Rick returned to camp, we had the fire relit and his requested supplies lined up next to the tarp covered mattress for his patient.
"Here!" Rick instructed, pointing to the mattress. The man followed Ricks guesture, and Rick wasted no time pouring vodka onto the wound. The native hissed in pain, a welcome sound to Rick as it confirmed he was conscious. His skin was so dark it was almost black, covered in intricate tribal tattoos that marked his arms and chest.
Jack and I stood on one side of the makeshift operating table, watching in awe as Rick threaded a needle to stitch the wound. The uninjured man knelt next to his friend, holding his face and speaking softly to him.
Rick worked quickly and efficiently, his hands steady despite the tension. He wrapped the wound with a bandage and finally removed the belt used as a tourniquet. He stared at his handiwork for a moment before releasing a shaky breath and giving the other native's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
(Rick)
"I think he'll be okay," I said, rising on somewhat wobbly legs and beckoning Jack and Aaron towards the fire pit.
"What happened Rick?"
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on me. "I need to come clean about why we ended up here," I began, my voice steady but heavy with guilt. I hesitated, the words catching in my throat.
Jack and Aaron exchanged worried glances. "Rick, you have to tell us," Jack insisted, his eyes wide with concern.
"Yeah, we deserve to know," Aaron added, squeezing my hand in support.
I nodded, taking another deep breath. "The criminals... they were planning on using these islands to grow drugs and use the inhabitants as slave labour," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's illegal to even sail in this part of the ocean without a license--to protect the indigenous people and species here. That's why we believe they took on passengers. They thought they could feign ignorance if they were caught. But they're part of something much bigger."
Jack and Aaron listened intently, their faces a mix of shock and horror. "I was sent in to gather information and feed it back to my superior. But after witnessing the horrific things they did to the first group of indigenous people on our first trip, I knew I had to intervene faster than systems would allow."
"What did they do?" Aaron asked gently, his voice filled with concern.
I looked at the ground, the memories flooding back. I took a shaky breath, feeling the tears welling up. "They found a small village. The people there were so kind, so welcoming. They didn't understand the danger. The scum... they rounded them up, with the plan of forcing them to grow the drugs. When one of the men tried to resist, they shot him in front of everyone. His wife and children were there, watching. They made an example of him."
"Oh no," Jack whispered, his face pale.
I choked up, the tears spilling over. "I wanted to stop them, but I was outnumbered. I had to watch as they terrorised those people. I couldn't do anything. That's why I came out a second time. I wasn't supposed to, but I had to stop them getting back to that island. I sent a message to my boss. But I don't know if he even got it."
Aaron and Jack moved closer, wrapping their arms around me. "Rick, it's not your fault," Aaron said softly, his voice soothing.
"You did what you could," Jack added, his eyes filled with empathy. "We're here now, and we're going to get through this together."
I nodded, feeling their warmth and support. "As part of my contract, I'm not allowed to share this information with anyone," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "But since you're caught up in it, you deserve to know."
I took another deep breath, "The night you both went overboard, I had tampered with the engines to create a diversion. I lied to the criminals, telling them there was an emergency broadcasting tower on a nearby uninhabited island. Before tampering with the engine, I saw a small storm and pretended it was much bigger, knowing they'd take the Skiff and leave the guests, to contact their team. My plan was to get the boat back to the mainland and come back with the rest of my team first. Most of the crew bought the story and took the smaller boat to the island, leaving me on the main boat."
Jack looked up at me, his face innocent and hopeful. "So, you were going to come back with the coast guard or police?"
Aaron shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "No way, this is secret service level shit, right Rick? Like MI5?"
I nodded, a bitter smile on my lips. "We don't have a name, and we aren't affiliated with any government. It gives us more 'creative' liberty in how we deal with situations."
"But I made a stupid mistake," I continued, the guilt returning. "After turning the storm tracker back on, I realised it had grown into a Category 4 storm. By then, it was too late. The storm hit hard, and I couldn't manage the boat alone. That's when you must have both gone overboard." I began to choke up, "I'm sorry. It's my fault you're here."