A Captain's Duty

nice and tight to our fishplate, a piece of solid metal that comes six inches high off the deck.
    I saw the hooks fasten onto my ship. Within five seconds, a head popped up over the side, followed by a body jumping quickly to the deck. He was a little aft of the number two crane, so he was about seventy feet away from me. It was the guy I would come to know as the Leader.
    Goddamn it, I thought. They’re onboard.
    “One pirate aboard,” I called into the radio. “We’ve been boarded.” The Somali didn’t have a weapon in his hand. I leaned over and saw he was bringing up a white bucket on a yellow line. That’s where his gun would be. And right behind the bucket was a second pirate.
    “One pirate aboard, one pirate climbing,” I called into the radio.
    We were sliding down a slippery slope toward disaster. The pirates had guns and we didn’t. All that we had to fight them were our brains and our willpower. Most guys would take the guns in that contest, but we had to play the hand we’d been dealt.
    I ran back onto the bridge wing with fresh flares in my hand. The Somali on the deck turned and raised his hand and I heard pow, pow, pow . He had his gun now and he was shooting. I shot back a flare and it bounced off the deck and tumbled into the water. I ducked down just as the guy blasted off a few rounds and BAMMMMM, a bullet slammed into the wind dodger directly in front of my face. I looked up and saw the dent in the metal.
    “Oh, shit!” I said. If it had gone through the steel, that bullet would have caught me squarely in the face.
    I hopped up. The first pirate was gone. He must be hiding behind the containers on deck, I thought. I knew his ultimatetarget had to be the bridge, but it would be a while before he could reach it.
    The second pirate came over the top of the ladder and landed on the deck.
    “Two pirates aboard,” I radioed.
    I faced a decision: Give up the bridge now, lock it up tight, fall back to the safe room, and wait it out. Or I could hold the bridge and pray the pirates couldn’t make it through the piracy cages and up seven stories.
    I didn’t want to give up my ship. Hell, no, I thought. I’m not giving up the bridge to anyone. There’s something about the bridge that’s special to a captain: It symbolizes your control of the ship. It’s like a pilot in the cockpit of a 747. You’ve been trusted with this thing. You don’t want to hand it over unless you absolutely have to.
    It was what I call my first mistake. I should have begun the retreat right then. But I thought I still had time. I wanted to be in control for as long as I could. It was hubris, I guess. Come and take it from me .
    I fired a couple of flares at the second guy. I could see the pirates were very thin and dressed in dirty T-shirts and shorts with rubber sandals. The second guy immediately sat cross-legged on the deck and began firing up at me with his AK-47.
    From down below, I heard three shots that sounded like a rifle. I later realized it was the first pirate shooting off the locks on the chains that secured the outside ladder. But I still thought he was tucked behind those containers on deck, waiting for the other guys to join him. The pirates had time on their side. They knew we weren’t armed. There was nothing to stop them except the piracy cages. If they got through those,we were hostages. But until the Leader started coming aft, I still felt secure on the bridge.
    I dashed back onto the bridge, ready to lock up and start our pullback into the depths of the ship. ATM was crouched on the floor, looking up at me anxiously, waiting for the next order while Colin was moving around the bridge. I opened my mouth to talk when I thought I saw a shadow in the corner of my eye. I turned. It was the first pirate, and he was outside the bridge door pointing a battered AK-47 at me through the window.

NINE
Day 1, 0735 Hours
    “The key to our success is that we are willing to die, and the crews are not.”
    —Somali pirate, Wired.com, July 28, 2009
    J ust as I turned, the Somali shot off two rounds into the air. POWWW. POWWW. Up close, that weapon sounded a hell of a lot louder than from down below.
    “We’re fucked,” I heard one of my crew say behind me.
    “Relax, Captain, relax,” the pirate yelled at me. He was short, thin, and wiry. His face was tense. “Business, just business. Stop the ship, stop the ship.”
    I was so shocked I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t believe he’d gotten up so