A Captain's Duty

and aft. I walked forward.
    Musso jumped up. “Down, down! You can’t leave.”
    “So shoot me,” I said. “I’ve had enough. I’m out of here.”
    Musso dropped his gun and grabbed me around the waist. I felt Tall Guy come up behind me and grab hold of my leg.
    “I’m sick of this.” I took two steps toward the forward end of the boat.
    BOOOM . A muzzle flash from the front of the boat. I reeled back and sat, landing on the third seat.
    “What are you guys doing?” I shouted.
    Young Guy had shot off a round from the front end of the boat.
    “What’s going on in there? What’s the problem?” The voice was coming from outside and it sounded female.
    The pirates were shouting at one another. “You can’t shoot in here!” “What are you doing?!” “No shoot!”
    “What’s going on? What happened in there?” said the female-sounding voice, sounding urgent.
    “No problem! Mistake!” The voices were coming from everywhere in the gloom of the boat. “Relax, okay, okay!”
    Young Guy, pissed off for being cussed out, was in the cockpit now. Tall Guy was with him.
    “It’s okay,” he was yelling at the woman who was outside the boat. “No problem now! All good.”
    I went to lie down on the makeshift bed. As I turned, I saw Musso and Tall Guy walk up toward the forward hatch. “Mistake, no problem! Okay, okay!” They were raising themselves up as I slid down to the floor.
    I was exhausted. I just wanted to rest.
    All of a sudden, shots rang out. Bangbangbangbangbangbang . It sounded like six or seven in a row. As the noise echoed in the tiny boat, I dove into the row of seats, getting as low as I could. I felt something raining down on my face, jabbing my skin. What now? I thought. What just happened?
    It seemed like the shooting went on for fifteen minutes, but I’m sure it lasted only a few seconds. I felt raw terror and confusion as I burrowed down as far as I could.
    “What are you doing?” I shouted. “What are you guys doing?”
    I thought the pirates were shooting one another, and I was caught in the crossfire. They’d been arguing and it had escalated to gunfire. And now, after days of heat, punishment, and threats, there was complete silence.
    All of a sudden I heard a voice. A male American voice. “Are you okay?” it said.
    I couldn’t understand who was talking.
    “Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine,” I said. “But who are you?”
    I looked up. Young Guy’s face was a foot from mine. He’d fallen from his perch in the cockpit and he had dropped to the deck. His eyes were wide open and he was struggling for air.
    “Hu-hu-huuuuuhh.” I watched as he was taking his last breaths. He let out a moan, and I knew he didn’t have long to live.
    Then I saw the outline of a figure in front of me. He was dressed in dark clothes. That’s all that registered. The SEALs told me later they heard a muffled shout after they’d fired on the pirates. They’d thought it was one of the Somalis coming after me. So a SEAL slid down the towrope to the bow and entered the lifeboat.
    The SEAL checked the pirates. They were all dead now.
    “Do you know how to get out of here?” the SEAL shouted.
    I untied the rest of my bindings and stood up. I climbed over a barrier of rope the pirates had tied across the seats. My legs were weak. I staggered to the hatch and started to untie a rope the pirates had tied to secure the hatch from being opened from the outside. I could feel someone on the other side of the door pushing and pulling, trying to force it.
    “Hold on, let me get it open,” I yelled.
    I got the rope free and the door was ripped open. A burly SEAL burst in and pushed me down into the boat. I could see his face hovering above me. Behind him I saw the enormous bulk of the Bainbridge looming above us. I felt like I could reach out and touch it.
    “He’s wounded, he’s wounded,” the SEAL shouted. My face must have been bleeding from the flying debris caused by bullets ripping into the boat.
    “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said.
    I stumbled toward the aft end of the boat and they gunned the engine. There were five navy guys onboard with me and they gave me the thumbs-up. The whole thing had probably taken all of sixty seconds.
    There was another boat buzzing around. The SEALs were yelling to their commanders, “He’s okay. We got him!” A voice crackled on the radio, “Is he injured? Repeat, is he injured?” One of the SEALs radioed back, “Might be