It was nice knowing that he was a millionaire, but the money did not matter to Kyle as much as how the professional rapport, working relationship, and mutual respect had led to a strong friendship with Sir Jeff and his wife, Lady Patricia Cornwell. He considered them to be the parents he never really had. Wherever they were became Kyle’s home.

In idle times, Swanson and Cornwell always spent hours brainstorming ideas for new weapons. They agreed that this was a new age for one of the oldest and most specialized military professions, the sniper, in all his forms. The ability to take out single targets with great precision had overcome the need to obliterate entire armies with massive attacks. During their recuperation from the Saudi business, they spent hours throwing ideas around, and from that stew had emerged the concept of the Bird and Snake. The overhead drone had locked onto the pirate boat and was steering the laser-guided torpedo that was now swimming in the water.

The Vagabond had been changed during the process from being virtually a floating hospital into a unique command-and-control vessel with Sir Jeff, in his wheelchair, being the spider at the center of an inconspicuous web. Normally, the yacht could be a playground, but it was no stranger to being used to facilitate American and British special operations. The placid face of the yacht never changed, just its guts and capabilities.

Kyle Swanson was at the rail on the port side of the main deck, his hands lightly holding their first creation, the Excalibur sniper rifle. A weapon of extraordinary accuracy with a scope of pure magic, it already was raising the standards for precision combat. He felt a slight tingle of pre-battle nerves, and hoped that he would get a couple of shots at the pirates. He no longer needed medicine; he needed some action.