Neil Dare was stoked!

What a bust!

He did, however, observe a moment of silence for the poor Armenian thug momentarily riding the anchor of this soon to be scuttled Turkish tramp steamer from another age down to the Ocean’s bottom.

The thug was a crook to be sure. But he was tough, loyal, did not rat out his boss or his connection, didn’t whine, beg or plead to the Chief Executive, and took his fate like a man.

For his part, President Trump, on the Truth Phone, strapped to the Chaplain’s [1] chest, the screen and camera facing the sea that just now swallowed the last of the chain, led them in a solemn observance, “That is one tough Armenian son of a bitch—I’ll give him that! May God accept whatever prayer he said on the way down. Amen.”

The volume then turned up a bit, as that was controlled from the presidential end, like the volume of commercials were controlled by a higher power—the advertiser.

“Bill, excellent job, Bill.”

Bill was now looking at the screen, as the Chaplain, listening to a parallel feed on ear phones, advised him, “The President would like agent Dare and yourself exclusively on this call. I am to mute my ear phones.”

Commander Frazier, known to the President as “Bill,” waved Neil over and put his hand on his shoulder as they both faced the President on the Truth Screen.

Neil saluted, Bill following suit awkwardly, and the President saluted as well, making a fist in his left hand and pumping it up, “Agent Dare—never has a law officer, a soldier, in service to This Great Nation, been more aptly named. I take it as a sign of approval from God himself, and I’m sure Jesus agrees, that the Executive Agent to make the very first Sea Marshall Bust, and in international waters, where I’m the law, has such an appropriate name.”

Bill motioned for the rest of the section to move off and begin scuttling preparations.

“Bill, these women, these poor women that were being trafficked, from Eastern Europe, I promised my wife—great lady that she is—that in such cases she might be able to take custody of such women and establish, you know, like a House of Ruth for the kind of ladies we’d probably like to have in this Great Nation.”

Neil could not help but raise his eye brows in approval, recalling the very high quality of the women found on board.

The Commander in Chief did not miss a beat, “I see Agent Dare agrees with the First Lady,” grinned The President. “In fact, Agent Dare, if you make it through this thing—what with your go get ‘em style—I assure you that the First Lady will arrange for the most qualified lady’s that you rescued to have a chance to thank you at a formal dinner.”

Neil grinned like a wolf, “Sir, yes Sir, Mister President!”

“Good man, Dare—and Bill congratulations on the superb, spectacular group of young men you have assembled to enforce Truth and Justice on the High Seas and in our coastal waters. You have no idea how infuriating it is to deal with the army of bitter broads, sissies and gays that keep every gate in this nation.

“Agent Dare, I have recently come into possession of information that may only be discussed with yourself and Bill. Bill, don’t mean to clip you wings—but I know your wife, you have a big family—and this is bad, real bad, Bill. You will be in the loop for this field promotion—or should I call it a deck promotion. Let me tell you, you Marines, Marshals, SEALs and Coasties, you are something else!”

“Yes, Mister President,” gawked Bill, who stood dazed at attention.

“Bill, Agent Dare, I am promoting Agent Neil Dare to Special Autonomous Executive Officer answerable directly to me. Agent Dare your number is already in my personal phone. Mine has been sent to you. You have been selected because of your ability, your skills, your aggressiveness, but mostly, because you have a degree in maritime history. I hear you know everything about pirates all the way back to the Vikings. Is that so?”

“Yes, Mister President,” and he was unable to conceal his wolfish grin, so happy that the history nerd within was getting some of the credit for this crypto-historical bust.

“Bill, and Special Autonomous—Kick-their-fucking-ass—Executive Agent Dare, I need your utmost confidence in what I’m about to say—because its some wacky shit. Imagine if you bought a car, maybe from some prick that used to work for you, supposedly for free. Then, you get in the car—a nice car, the best car, almost the biggest car on the road—and you start driving it—but the car drives itself, locks your ass in, and says, no, no more burgers—you have to go eat tacos!”

“Yes, Mister President—loud and clear,” answered Neil as Bill stammered for words.

“Good man. Bill, I need some slight of hand. You are in charge of everything in your agency, except for Dare. Dare gets what he wants, when he wants it, where he wants—but Dare, you go light; no big teams. Also, I’ve been told by people I did not even know existed, until an hour ago, from an agency that is not supposed to exist, but seems to know everything, that Neil, you’re probably a dead man for taking this job—and kid, I’m not letting you back out, even if you wanted to, which I can see you don’t. God Bless you, Dare—forget the agent shit, you’ll always be Dare to me. No living parents or grandparents, no wife and kids—your girl has dumped you by now, considering the latest intel; all you have is that weird uncle that lives in a bunker in the Idaho panhandle.”

“Mister President?” asked Bill.

“Bill, not now—this is just getting good. Look, you’re doing a great job, a fantastic job—simply spectacular—you’re still in charge, Bill. A lot of what Dare finds out, if it doesn’t get him killed, you can’t know. What I’m about to say now is all I know. What either of you find, comes to me. Bill, any intel you have, share directly with Dare, if he asks for it. Dare, keep the weird shit to yourself and brief me as needed. Keep Bill in the dark enough to make sure his family picnic doesn’t get fire-bombed.”

Both men, feeling the gravity of the situation, stood at attention.

President Trump’s voice took on a darker tone, “Three people came into my office—just walked the fuck in! Men with clearance I did not even know existed. They made J.D. and Miller leave—fuckin’ Miller backed down! I mean—these are bad people, and they’re on our side, and they are afraid of what’s going on with this human trafficking thing. They were in my office before you even boarded that steamer. That did it—you stepped on some big toes. What I am about to say is all the information I was given.”

“Yes, Mister President,” saluted both men, Bill getting into the zone, as if he were already in combat.

‘This is Big and I’m in the wheelhouse,’ marveled Neil.

“Men, you have awakened an organization, run by one man. That man has declared war on the United States of America, and, me personally, by name. He calls me a “Race Traitor,” if you can believe that. Have you men seen my wife? This man is off base. He has various front organizations, a super genius, like some Bond villain. He is IN the system, constructs his own identities for himself and his cronies. You cannot search him through law enforcement data bases without tipping him off. This investigation has to be old school.”

Neil was in the zone, “What do you have for me, Sir?”

“That’s it, kid. Bill—get more like him, expand the agency—more rugby players!”

Bill swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes,” his heart not in it.

“All I have for you men is this, The man is based in the Baltimore area with operations across, Pennsylvania, New England and Washington State. He is also international. He hates—I don’t know how I can say this—he’s a hater. He’s got something against black folks and people of color in general. I suppose he’s not an NFL fan—I just don’t get it. I mean, I stood by Iron Mike, the only venue that would let him fight when he got out of prison, and now its clear to anybody with a brain that was a lynching and Don just set him up, right?”

Neil felt his mouth split in a wolfish grin and Trump continued, “Only one more thing for you before I slip you off your chain, Dare; his name is Will White, Will S. White, actual middle name unknown. It is said, by these people who know shit I couldn’t have made up, that under no circumstances will this hate-filled man abandon that name. Got that?”

“Yes, Mister President,” they said and Trump continued, “Men, whatever you need—the fucking Marines, Space Force—whoever’s ass I have to pry my foot out of, I will drop whatever I’m doing—even the First Lady—to get you men what you need to bring this Will White character to justice—and that means bringing him to me, alive, if possible.”

“Yes, Mister President,” they saluted, and so did their leader, right before the Truth Force Chaplain turned off the Truth Screen.

“Fuck me running,” snarled Commander Frazier.

“Rather not, Commander,” chuckled Neil.

“Dare, get the fuck out of my sight and do as the Boss said!”

“Yes, Sir,” saluted Neil, as he made up his mind to check on the quality of the confiscated cargo!

…

Notes

-1. President Trump, while side stepping the corrupt judiciary, fully recognized the highest moral authority, and had insisted that one agent on each interdiction team be a qualified Christian chaplain, to assist the convicted with their last moments above their watery grave.