Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Tuesday)

On the way to the marina, Colt had called the harbor master and confirmed that the boat was still in its slip. Krissy’s unmarked cruiser pulled into the parking lot, not bothering to land between any set of lines. Colt and Krissy jumped out and made their way to gate 4 where the harbor master met them with a key and pointed out the boat they were seeking at the end of the row.

Colt could hear the twin diesel engines idling as he passed through the open gate. As he followed the harbor master’s pointing finger, the massive yacht began to slowly pull away from the dock. As the boat turned toward the open waters, the letters painted across the stern said it all: My Destiny. Colt envisioned a scene he had watched in a hundred movies where he ran down the dock and jumped onto the boat just before it slipped out of sight. Fortunately, his senses and fleeting youth got the better of him and he quickly formed a Plan B. “Call the coast guard,” he said to the harbor master who quickly produced a cell phone and made the call.

“They are on their way,” he replied his finger gesturing toward the coast guard station. “You can meet them at their boat three rows down.” Colt and Krissy thanked the harbor master for his efforts and sprinted toward the station. The brand new 45 foot response boat was already idling with a crew of four ready to go as Colt and Krissy climbed aboard. Krissy took the liberty of informing the captain of the situation. Catching My Destiny wouldn’t be difficult for this utility boat, especially given the slow speeds required in the harbor. Colt was betting that whoever Destiny Godinez had hired to pilot her boat was not the criminal type. He wouldn’t have any incentive to speed through the harbor.

What Colt didn’t count on, however, was Destiny’s resolve to avoid capture. Just as the coast guard boat started down the channel in a relatively slow pursuit of the 50 foot yacht, the wake behind the big boat deepened and its twin diesels revved as fast as they could go. Given the massive size of the boat, speeds remained under 30 knots, although the coast guards’ new boat had the ability to reach as high as 42 knots should the need arise.

It didn’t take long to bring the utility boat alongside My Destiny. From his position on the deck, one of the crewmen noticed two people on the bridge of the yacht. One was the pilot, the other a woman with a small caliber revolver in her hand. Seconds later, the gun turned and fired on the coast guard boat. The captain backed off of his position to restrategize. The simple stop had just gotten much more complicated.