NIGHT draped the fishing boat, obscuring cramped wet places, lines, nets and musky coolers filled with melting ice. The only thing unblemished in the antique vessel was Madeleine's golden skin. Her eyes jerked open. Shortly after midnight, a floodlight breached the portholes and cast shadows on her cheeks. Disoriented and dead tired, she skimmed the backdrop. Comforted by familiar snoring, she squeezed her eyes shut. She ignored a distant hum, probably other fishermen.

Madeleine fought sleeplessness. Nothing worked. She shuddered, threw off the blanket and pushed her bare feet onto the teak sole. The boards under her cushion made straining noises, as she climbed from the berth. Snoring still rumbled in the salon's darkest places. She listened, then tiptoed over moaning floorboards to the outside deck.

An eerie mist rose from the watery depths in front of her. Trapped in the anemic fog, she shivered and cradled her arms. A chill spliced through every pore. The hum was louder now, more distinguishable. Madeleine veered toward the roaring engines that raced toward them. She looked out at the water. No lights. Nothing. Despite the grumbling noises churning in the distance, she didn't see lights. Where were the running lights?

She yanked her head upward, cocked her ear toward the vibration, and yet saw nothing unusual except an anvil-shaped cloud. Beyond that, something was emerging from the murkiness. She couldn't make it out. Her eyes shot to a dim glow—a silver and white speck gathered mass and momentum in the southern sky. She swallowed the mucus lodged in her throat. Hopelessness slid into its place.

Her lips formed a mute, "Oh." The words screamed in her head, "Something's wrong. Something's not right here."

She heard distant shouts. "What am I gonna do? Daddy, help me!"

A light. Running lights! Blurry halos materialized in the mist. So white in the center the edges shimmered with flecks of gold, the glare burned into her retinas. Something was wrong. Before she reached her parents below deck, a floodlight grazed the hull. She dropped to the deck and crawled forward. That's when she heard a hoarse whisper.

The shadow of her father's head framed the hatchway. "Maddy, overboard."

She hesitated and threw her father a final puzzled look. "Dad..."

"Now! Go girl."

The floodlight was sweeping past again. She stared at the water smacking the hull, and hesitated for only a second before sliding in. Cold water covered her shoulders. She gripped the spray rail, and her fingers inched to the stern.

Her eyes dashed to two boats headed straight for their fishing boat. The distance shortened. Pandemonium suddenly clamored above her head. Madeleine angled her head skyward. Amidst black exhaust, great gusts of wind whipped past and fumes burned her nostrils.

A white seaplane, with "Sea Wolf" painted on the fuselage, descended circling closer to their fishing boat. Sucked into a swirling vortex, she heard the whining of the wind. 

"Please, please somebody help me. Help my parents. Daddy, help me!" Her chest was burning. She panted in ragged bursts and prayed for answers. Bombarded by lights, waves, wind and a plane, her pulse raced. Her hand was slippery, but she held on.

Two boats emerged from the midnight blue casting off rolling waves. The breakers advanced boldly. The upsurge whacked her against the hull. She hung on. About two hundred yards from their anchor, two speedboats cut their engines and idled. One boat went to the side of the plane. The other idled on the port side of their fishing vessel.

She clung to the starboard. Her fingers ached from gripping the toe rail. None of this makes sense she thought. Everything's moving too fast. Why had someone trapped them in this nightmare? She hadn't a clue. They hadn't hurt anyone.

Spotlights skulked the decks, as her parents crept from the boat's underbelly. She heard a pop. Without warning, the strangers open fired. The angry cackle of gunfire rippled across the water. She forced her eyes open. Clumps of smoke hung in the air and stung her eyes. The zinging of the bullets was everywhere, shrieking through the nightshade, barely missing her. The shrapnel hissed and whizzed by, getting closer by the second. Gunfire seared through the duskiness, leaving a trail of smoldering vapors. TO BE CONTINUED...