SEAHORN EPUBLISHING
YEAR END EDITION 2015
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SEAHORN EPUBLISHING YEAR END EDITON 2015
Sea Change Ryan. Jasper. Van Diem. Three shipwrecked ex-Navy Seals, in a 30 foot survival floatation module, two days out from the wreck of the sail boat that Van Diem had gotten as a present from Ryan and Casper. Big waste of money. All three men, trained to survive, now in the situation that they would think it would be easy. It wasn't. Cooped up in that tight space, even when each would take turns just hanging outside the exterior of the capsule on the other twenty foot lifeboat that was tethered and bobbing behind the floatation module. "Should never have trusted those fucking Gypsy refugees," said Jasper, wiping his long blonde hair from his wind and sea soaked sunburned forehead. “No, said Deidra, that's just racist thinking. They all checked out, she did a thorough search online,” Jasper said. “Sure, the boat is a dream, but hey, the economy is bad, they have to rid of it," she said”. "Well, Jasper, the motherfuckers were smarter than us." His blue eyes glistened with rage. “Can’t trust ANY of them motherfuckers!" he said, looking over the horizon as the floatation device was rocked back and forth by the waves. Even with his training, Jasper had no clue where the fuck they were drifting.
He only hope d the recon beacon and the short periods online when they do pick up any wi fi allowed them to get their SOS out. All three men had even managed to get their Facebook pages updated with the words "We're fucked! Send help and here are Google Map coordinates to where the ship sank!" They had absolutely no idea how far they drifted since the sinking. "Motherfucking nigger at the fucking Marina forgot to load the extra fucking rations," said Van Diem." Kept telling the motherfucker to do this, and he kept turning up his fucking headphones, listening to that rap shit! " "You listen to Eminem all the fucking time," said Ryan. “I hate the lyrics, but the music is bomb." "You beginning to talk like your brother in law, "G", sneered Van Diem, his brown buzz cut wet and slick on top of his head. “We aint talked like that since junior year." Jasper, Van Diem and Ryan looked over at Jasper. Jasper was adjusting the antenna on the military laptop. “Can’t get a steady wifi signal. Surprised I can get any one at all," said Jasper. "Hope the GPS is working on this thing.” He checked the military grade ThinkPad for thermal readings from satellites. “Good thing we still got military clearance. Thank God for the Patriot Act.” Well", said Van Diem. ”If or when we get picked up, a lot of this equipment has to be shit canned. We can’t let too many civilians know that even when we get discharged, we still have full military
privileges. "Yeah, thank God for the Patriot Act,” said Ryan wearily. “Maybe that motherfucker can get us out of this mess." Jasper pulled his Magnum from the weather bag. Well, gonna try and get something to eat. Again. Protein bar should have kicked in, but may aim should be better." "Wouldn’t have to do this shit if that nigger had done his fucking job,” said Van Diem. He automatically looked over at Ryan. Ryan gave him the look that anyone with a black brother in law would give someone after a remark like that. "Look, man, he just talks ghetto. The motherfucker got his own business, and he and my sister and nieces and nephews all even sit down to dinner together." Ryan grabbed the bullets from the locker at the foot of the right octangular red wall of the interior of the floatation module. “All of 'em ain’t like that," Ryan said, tossing the bullets. “Our fucking PRESIDENT is like that!” said Van Diem. He cocked the gun, aimed out the port three foot by two foot window, and fired. "Go out now, get that thing!" said Van Diem Jasper went to the far side of the floatation module, and climbed the short module to the hatch. Suddenly, a smell so foul hit him in the lungs like a physical blow. Not even seven seconds later, the other two men exclaimed in
loud vulgarities, yelling at Van Diem to hurry up, swim out there and get whatever the fuck they had shot. "Day three floating and waiting to be rescued as we go floating into the night�. And not even a mile to starboard, there it was. "Turn on the fucking outside monitors! Now, fucking now! And star recording!" yelled Van Diem, chocking and gagging, but staying above the opened hatch, reaching for his IPhone. After a number of photo IPhone shots, van Diem could not take the smell. He pulled back down into the floatation module closing and sealing the hatch. Jasper threw Ryan the oxygen mask he had grabbed from one of the lockers lining the floor of the floatation device. Ryan took a couple of huffs, then attached the gas mask to the face of the gagging Van Diem. Van Diem pushed Ryan away, then threw up against the port wall in a stream of projectile vomit that came from the inner guts of Van Diem. He had never, ever smelled anything like he was smelling coming from the open port of the floatation module. And he had done many a cleanup crew after very vicious and bloody firefights back in The Shit. Van Diem would later recall that he didn't know a human could hurl with that much force. He composed himself, then ran over to the cabinet on the other side of the floatation module. He reached in, and pulled out his latest
toy: a remote controlled military grade surveillance drone.it was eight feet long, and as big around as a small log. Even at that size, it was so lightweight that Van Diem took it out of the locker with one hand. "Gimme the mask, hit the surveillance app, and make sure this shit gets recorded," he yelled, putting on his gas mask, and running toward the hatch. After five minutes of prep, Van Diem reached for the open hatch. The drone went straight up and out the module. The magnetic propulsion system was working perfectly. All three men grabbed all the surveillance equipment they had onboard the floatation module. They managed to grab as much of the tech they had with them onboard before the ship sank. It was a The three men had free time and military toys to play with. With all the privacy an open Atlantic Ocean could offer. The drone went straight up and away from the floatation module, headed directly toward what Van Diem and the rest of the crew had seen. "After the drone had maneuvered and synced with the passage of the ship, all the surveillance equipment on board the drone kicked in. Thermal imaging, voice recordings, real time video, even fucking weather and thermal readings from the surrounding environment: all gathered, stored, and instantly deciphered. But what the three men witnessed that was taking place on the ship had them transfixed, mouths literally wide open like a bad
situation comedy. On the thirty inch military monitor came images straight out of Hell. Men, women, even babies, being sorted thru, then tossed overboard. One section of the ship on deck was being used as some kind of branding station. Van Diem hooked his laptop up and synched with the video feed coming thru on the monitor as the other two men kept looking at the monito. In The Shit he would operate secondary field monitoring, getting different angles and shots like the second camera man, even though the twenty seven lenses on the drone were getting enough shots, his would be from an “intelligent” view, dissecting spots of interests in the surveillance. "Oh my fucking God!" he said, as trained his lens go at the highest visibility. Van Diem could not believe what his eyes were seeing on the monitor of his lens. It was a fucking orgy. One side of the ship had a canvas up. The men on deck were behind the canvas, systematically raping the women on board. Van Diem saw that the crewmen were literally “pulling trains”. He shut the monitor, kept it recording, and sat back against one of the interior bulks heads. "Get back in the game, motherfucker!" screamed Jasper. “This shit, all our readings, this shit is for REAL!" he said, his voice
echoing loudly inside the floatation device. What data the three men were getting was confirming is what they all had seen with their own eyes: this was a fucking slave
ship. Ryan put data into Wikipedia, Google, and then Google Maps. "Yep," he said. "We are right in the fucking middle of the Middle
Passage. All three mem looked at each other. ”Fuck, that means...did we go back in time?" said Jasper. "No, if we did, none of this shit would be working right, and we are still getting all our outside feeds, “said Ryan. They all looked at the monitor as the ship slowly sailed past them, but everything that was happening on deck was being recorded. All three men looked at each other again. They all sat there on the floor of the floatation device next to the monitors for the drone, for a very long time, each staring at the floor. Ryan started mumbling, over and over. "Saw “12 Years A Slave” with Marvin the other night. Wasn’t nuthin' like that," Ryan said, looking at the floor, his hands clasped and wringing. Jasper looked up at the other two me. "What those people were doing to those nig....to those people?" said Jasper, accentuating the last word as a question. He kept shaking his head back and forth. Van Diem broke out crying. Sobbing, hard very hard. He had not cried like that since his dad had died. "Oh my God," he kept saying,
his body rocking back and forth. The other two men looked at each other. Tears were streaming down both of the men’s faces. After a long while, the three men had the courage to look at the big screen surveillance monitor. Nothing. The drone had stopped in midair, the fuel signal started to beep, echoing in the small area of the floatation device. They called the drone back. The drone settled inside the floatation device. It started the final upload of all the data from the slave ship. Instantly, an encrypted signal came thru the military grade walkie talkie that Van Diem had. Only problem was, that thing never came on unless the boys were deep in The Shit. All three men looked at each other. Then, again, like some sick situation comedy, all three tuned toward the drone. Coordinates started coming thru the encrypted walkie talkie and the large monitors. The message began to scroll across the large monitor as the encrypted symbols started to decipher. “Evac in 13 hours. Signal picked up. Only one airship coming”. Only one airship. All three men knew what was up. "Big Daddy?" said Van Diem, turning toward the other men as
he began to walk over to over to a cabinet located on the wall of the floatation device. “Little nigger didn’t forget to pack these," he said, instantly regretting the words that came out of his mouth. His stomach sank as he pulled out the Uzi and the three clips. He turned around, loaded the Uzi, and then walked over to one of the laptop monitor onboard the module. He sat down, monitoring the laptop as he prepped his gun. The other two men went to the locker, and each pulled out their own personal weapon of choice and ammo. They all had forgotten one thing about playing with toys from Big Daddy: nowadays, with the Patriot Act, everything gets recorded. And everything gets sent to "Big Daddy." Everything. "Make backup copies and get that shit into the cloud. We only got a minute," he said, as he walked over to the drone. He extracted the remote server that housed all the data. Direct copy from this," he said to each of the two men. "Big Daddy should be here within the timeframe,” he said. “Better get in contact with your loved ones now, while we still have time.” All the three men had been career military and Special Forces long enough to know the one, true existing fact of living in this new age of 24/7, 365 surveillance and recording. Big Daddy can be very jealous of new and potentially damaging
information. Jealous and murderous. Van Diem started cleaning his weapons. One thing he knew for certain. When they got picked up again and back on shore, if they survived “debriefing” on what they had just seen floating by the floatation module. He would make damn sure to apologize, in his face, to Ryan’s brother in law. THE END