by Len Maynard
57
Jack’s boat was a fifty-seven foot Marko Sambrailo with fiberglass hull, and was powered by a V12 MTU engine capable of up to twenty-two knots. It was a spacious vessel with a large aft deck and accommodation below. Designed originally as a fishing boat, it had been converted to better suit Jack’s purposes. There was plenty of room for contraband, both above and below deck.
The boat rocked gently at its moorings as we climbed aboard. Julius, Sam, and Billie were sitting on the starboard side of the deck, wrists and ankles bound. In the wheelhouse Miguel was smoking a cigarette, while Maritza was consigned to guard duty once more, and was pacing the deck irritably, clutching the ever-present machine pistol.
The first thing I noticed as I stepped down onto the deck was the coil of anchor chain stowed at the rear of the deck. That was an ominous sign, as I had a pretty good idea what the chain was going to be used for, and it had nothing at all to do with the anchor.
Jack went straight to the wheelhouse and had a few words with Miguel. The big Cuban was smiling. Luis, in the meantime, forced Stevie and I down with the others, and set about binding our ankles with nylon cable ties.
Finally, Miguel started the engine and Jack came out from the wheelhouse. He looked down at the five of us, who were trussed up like Christmas turkeys and just as helpless. ‘This is where you take your leave,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid your roles in this little adventure are over.’ He moved to the rail and prepared to climb ashore.
‘Not coming with us, Jack, to wish us bon voyage as you toss us over the side?’
He looked at me for a long moment. Finally, he said, ‘No. I’m lousy at goodbyes.’ He jumped ashore, untied the ropes, and the boat started to move back from the jetty.
‘Is that what they’re going to do?’ Billie said. ‘Throw us over the side?’
‘It’s what the anchor chain is for.’ I nodded towards the metal coils lying in the corner. ‘They’ll wait until we reach a blue hole. There’s one a few miles out from here. Three hundred feet deep.’
‘That’s not very comforting, Harry,’ she said.
‘You asked.’
‘I wish now I hadn’t been so curious.’
I glanced across at the others. Julius was staring stoically ahead, his face impassive; Sam looked green, though whether it was from the motion of the boat or just plain terror I couldn’t say. I suspected it was a combination of the two. Stevie looked back at me and tried for a smile, a reassuring smile. It tugged at my heart. I’d gotten her into this mess, and now I didn’t have a clue how to get her out of it. I sat there praying for a miracle that seemed very unlikely to manifest itself.
The three Cubans had gathered in the wheelhouse and were talking amongst themselves. They had a chart open and seemed to be arguing about the direction they were taking. As sailors they didn’t seem that experienced. Maritza came out of the wheelhouse and went across to the side rail, peering down into the water.
‘It’s the coral beds you have to watch out for,’ I said. ‘They rip through fiberglass like a knife through butter. And this hull is fiberglass.’ I was exaggerating the risk. Compared to the run to Barracuda Cay this stretch of water was easy to navigate; but the Cubans didn’t know that, and I thought a little anxiety on their behalf might be helpful
I don’t know if Maritza understood me, but she gave me a poisonous look and went back to join her colleagues. Moments later another argument ensued, and Miguel cut the power to the engine.
‘I think they’re lost,’ Julius said.
‘It’s easy to lose your bearings here,’ I said loudly for the Cubans’ benefit. ‘Charts, compasses, and even GPS’s are great, but you need to really know this stretch of water to safely navigate it.’
Julius looked at me as if I were mad. He opened his mouth to say something, but I gave a small shake of my head and he clamped his lips shut.
Luis emerged from the wheelhouse. He walked up to me and kicked my ankle. ‘You,’ he said. ‘On your feet.’
‘Why?’
‘On your feet!’ He grabbed my shirt and tried to haul me up.
‘You’d find it easier if his legs were untied, dumbass,’ Stevie said.
He glared at her but produced a lock knife from his pocket, and cut the cable tie that bound my legs together. When he hauled again I was able to assist him.
Pressing the knife against my spine he propelled me towards the wheelhouse. He jabbed at the chart that was lying on the table, his finger landing in the center of the blue hole. ‘You take us there,’ he said.
I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ He pressed harder with the knife. I felt my skin pop and the blood start to trickle down. ‘Kill me and you’re stuck here,’ I said.
The pressure eased. He said something to Miguel in Spanish, then went back out onto the deck. I heard Billie cry out. Luis was standing over her and had sliced her shirt open with his knife; now he was working on her bra. He severed the straps and her bra came off. Blood rushed to her cheeks in a hot blush.
‘Leave her alone!’ I shouted.
‘You steer the boat.’
He had one hand planted in her hair and the other was holding the knife that was pressed against her left breast. Another ounce of pressure and he’d cut her.
‘Deal,’ I called.
Miguel understood that much English at least. He started the engine, standing aside to let me take the wheel. I glanced back at the deck. Luis had released Billie and was now talking to Maritza. Billie was sitting, visibly shaking, tears streaking her cheeks. I caught her eye but she turned her face away.
‘At least let her cover herself up,’ I called to Luis.
He turned to look at her. ‘I like the view,’ he said.
‘Take the wheel,’ I said to Miguel. ‘Keep steering straight ahead.’ Incomprehension spread over his face. ‘I said, take the fucking wheel!’ I jabbed my finger at the windscreen. ‘Straight ahead. Comprende?’
I stormed out of the wheelhouse and back along the deck. Luis swore and Maritza raised the machine pistol, but Luis grabbed the barrel and pushed it down until it was aimed at the deck. I crouched down in front of Billie and pulled the severed halves of her shirt together, tying them in a knot just under her breasts. It was hardly a fashion statement, but at least it covered her. ‘Are you okay?’
She was biting her bottom lip, trying to stem the flow of tears. She nodded. ‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘Scared shitless, but okay.’
‘We’ll get through this,’ I said. ‘All of us. I promise.’
She stared into my eyes, searching for the lie. Eventually, a wan smile curled her lips. She sniffed back the tears. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘’Course we will.’
I went back to the wheelhouse and pushed Miguel out of the way, taking the wheel again and checking the bearings. We had about an hour before we reached the blue hole and the fate Jack had dreamed up for us. Which meant I had about sixty minutes to come up with some kind of plan so I could make good on my promise to Billie.
I stared out at the ocean. On the horizon thunderheads were gathering. The storm was still out there and we were heading directly for it. The first few spots of rain spattered against the windscreen, and I noticed Maritza’s frizzy hair was being blown across her face by the rising wind.
I eased back slightly on the throttle. Miguel looked at me sharply as the sound of the engine changed. ‘Coral bed,’ I said, pointing vaguely through the window.
He frowned.
Luis came into the wheelhouse, grabbed my shoulder, and spun me around. ‘Why we slow down? I not say slow down!’
‘We’re over a coral bed. The water here is shallow, so unless you want me to tear the bottom out of the boat, leave me alone to do my job.’
He hesitated, indecision flickering in his eyes. Finally, he made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat, turned, and went back on deck. I eased the throttle back more. With any luck the storm would hit us before we reached the blue hole and, if it was as ferocious
as the one I’d encountered on the run to Barracuda Cay, the situation could change drastically. At the very least it would even out the playing field slightly. I slowed the boat to about three knots, making a great play of looking out of all the windows to check the depth of the water and the closeness of the coral. Next to me, Miguel was looking anxious.
‘How deep?’ he said, a tremor in his voice.
‘Three feet. Maybe less.’
He shook his head, not understanding what I’d said. I held my hand roughly a yard above the floor of the cabin. ‘Three feet.’
If he’d bothered to go outside and look over the side he would have seen that the water we were passing through was at least ten times deeper than that. Instead he crossed himself and started to pray.
I ignored him. I was staring at the storm clouds ahead, willing them to come closer. Beside me Miguel gave a small grunt and sank to his knees, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he collapsed unconscious onto the floor of the wheelhouse, blood seeping from a gash in the back of his head.
For a moment I couldn’t understand what had happened; and then a very familiar voice said quietly, ‘Hello, Harry.’
I turned and stared at the smiling face of Alan Lancaster, who was standing in the corner of the wheelhouse holding a metal bar streaked with Miguel’s blood.
58
The hatch to the below deck storage area had been pushed back. How he had sneaked into the wheelhouse without being seen was beyond me, but he had managed it, and he’d cracked Miguel over the back of the head. I glanced back at the deck, but Luis and Maritza were both now staring over the rail, trying to catch a glimpse of the imaginary coral beds. Any moment they could turn and look up at the wheelhouse. We had to act fast. I gestured for Alan to stay where he was and went to the door.
‘Hey! Give me some help up here. Your friend’s collapsed.’
Luis reacted immediately. He snapped something at Maritza, pulled out his gun, and ran towards the wheelhouse. At the door he pushed me out of the way and looked down at Miguel. He saw the gash on the back of Miguel’s head and turned to me angrily. As he did so Alan brought the metal bar crashing down on his arm, shattering his wrist. Luis screamed in pain and the gun clattered to the floor. As he clutched at his wrist I swung a punch and connected with the point of his jaw. His head snapped back and he crumpled.
On deck Maritza watched all this happen with an expression of complete shock on her face and, as Luis fell, she shook herself and raised the machine pistol.
‘Down!’ I yelled as she sprayed the wheelhouse. Glass shattered as bullets tore through the windows.
I looked out in time to see Stevie swing her legs and connect with the back of Maritza’s ankles, taking the Cuban woman’s legs out from under her. Maritza toppled backwards, smashing the back of her head on the unforgiving wood of the deck as she landed. Before she had time to gather herself Stevie raised her legs and brought her heels crashing down into Maritza’s face, knocking her out cold.
The whole thing had taken less than a minute, and I found it hard to grasp that a situation could change so quickly. I felt in Luis’s pocket and found the knife, bolted out onto the deck, and severed the others’ bonds. Stevie was on her feet quickly and ran to the hatch.
‘Where are you going?’ I said.
‘To find some rope. I want to get these bastards tied up.’
Billie and Sam were getting to their feet. Julius just sat there, a huge smile on his face.
‘Nice moves, man,’ he said.
‘Thank Alan. I couldn’t have done it without him.’
Alan was standing in the doorway of the wheelhouse, sunlight glinting on his dirty blond hair.
‘Who are you, bloody Houdini? How did you manage that?’ I said.
‘I’ve been hiding below. When I saw the welcome Kim gave Jack as he arrived at Watt’s Cay, I realized she was the one who’d sold me out.’
‘So you’ve been hiding out on the boat ever since?’
‘No. I followed them to the house. After seeing the situation there I realized they’d be coming back to the boat sooner rather than later, so I thought I’d form my own one man reception committee.’
‘That was a long shot.’
‘Not really. Jack has a propensity for tying up loose ends…and I’d seen the anchor chain on the deck, so I guessed what he was planning. When we were kids playing our games Jack was always the one who’d come up with the ruthless endings to make sure the games had some kind of conclusion. He hasn’t changed.’
I’d forgotten that, or at least thought I had; but it was true. As soon as I climbed aboard the boat and saw the coils of chain curled in the corner of the deck, I knew what Jack had in mind, so maybe those games had left more of an impression than I thought.
‘What’s next?’ Alan said.
‘You can start by introducing us,’ Billie said. She’d recovered from her ordeal and the spark had been reignited in her eyes.
At that moment a fork of lightning split the sky, closely followed by a low growl of thunder. ‘I’ll leave Stevie to make the introductions,’ I said. ‘I’m going to race the storm back to Watt’s Cay.’
I headed back to the wheelhouse and gunned the engine, spinning the wheel and turning the boat around. From wishing the storm to find us, I was now anxious to get back to land before it hit. I was unfamiliar with Jack’s boat and didn’t know how she’d handle in a storm. The Lady had never let me down, but the Marko was a different beast altogether. I soon pushed her up to fifteen knots and, although the rain was beating against the windscreen and reducing visibility, I was confident we’d make landfall before the worst of the storm struck.
A short while later Stevie joined me in the wheelhouse. The Cubans had been tied up and left on deck to suffer the rain. Alan and the others were sheltering in the Marko’s small and sparsely furnished kitchenette.
‘Do you want me to take the wheel?’ she asked.
‘No. Why?’
‘I thought you might want to speak to Alan.’
I shook my head. ‘It’ll wait.’
‘I still can’t believe she’s gone.’
‘The Lady?’
She nodded. She was close to tears and was biting her bottom lip to distract herself. ‘Why did the bastard do that?’
‘I don’t know, Stevie. I think he wanted to hurt me, and you too.’
‘Well, he succeeded. Quite a week so far, eh?’
‘It’s not over yet,’ I said. ‘There’s Jack and Kim to deal with first. And those children. The boat’s coming from Florida for them tomorrow. I want to get them off Watt’s Cay and to safety before it arrives. We don’t know how heavily it’ll be manned.’
‘You don’t have to play the hero, you know? You could call the authorities and let them deal with it.’
‘I could do, but where would that leave Alan? They’d arrest him, and I can’t imagine his prison sentence would be lenient.’
‘Jesus Christ, Harry! Alan’s not your concern.’
‘He’s my brother,’ I said.
59
‘Oh, enough with the hippie stuff. Alan’s your friend, best friend maybe, but he’s not your brother.’
‘That’s just it, Stevie. He is my brother. My father told me when I visited him on Barracuda Cay. He had an affair with Alan’s mother. Alan was the result.’
She ran her hand through her already tousled hair. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I guess that changes things.’
‘Yes, but only a little. I still can’t forgive him for getting involved in all this. He went into it with his eyes open, and because of his stupidity people have died. Anna, Sally, Serena Carr and her brother. Even Philippe would still be alive if it wasn’t for Alan. But I won’t be the one responsible for sending him to jail.’
‘Does he know how many people have died because of him?’
‘He does now.’ Alan was standing in the doorway of the wheelhouse, his face ashen. ‘Serena’s dead?’
I nodded.
‘Jack shot her through the head.’
‘And Jerry?’
‘The same. They didn’t know where you were, so they were surplus to requirements, and for Jack they were just more loose ends.’
He sagged against the doorframe. ‘I had no idea.’ Tears started rolling down his cheeks. ‘I loved that girl so much.’
‘And Anna, Sally? Did you love them too?’ Stevie said. She was looking at Alan with ill-concealed contempt.
‘Of course I did…well, Sally. Anna and I had our issues.’
‘Well, it saves you an expensive divorce,’ she said.
‘Stevie, that’s enough!’ I said.
She looked at me hotly. ‘Harry! Don’t you dare take his side. Remember what those bastard Cubans did to me? It wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for him. He’s caused so much damage, so much harm, and I don’t care if he is your brother, you can’t let him get away with it.’ She stormed out of the wheelhouse, barging past Alan.
He looked at me bleakly. ‘Lucas told you? About him and my mother?’
‘Yes, he dropped that bombshell the other day. I think he enjoyed it, although he’s claiming remorse now.’
‘You must hate me. Stevie’s right. I have to pay for what I’ve done.’
‘First things first,’ I said. I took a couple of steps towards him and punched him hard in the face.
He staggered back, holding out an arm to steady himself. ‘I guess I deserve that.’
‘Is what Jack said true? Do you have the information needed to bring down the pedophile ring, the cartel?’
He nodded. ‘Names, dates, what child went where. Everything.’
I had to ask him. I didn’t want to, but there was no avoiding it.
‘When Jack asked me to invest in a business venture I thought it would be another restaurant. You know the Oyster Bar and the Tar are mine? I’m not a hands-on owner, not with someone I’ve known such a long time, not with Jack. It took me a while to realize what was going on.’
‘Where’s the hard evidence?’
He fished in his pocket and produced a flash drive identical in size to the one Jack had sent me, but this one was red. I held out my hand and he dropped it into my palm. I closed my fingers around it. So many people had died because of Jack’s search for this small plastic device I was expecting it to resonate, but it didn’t. It just sat there in my fist, inert and unspectacularly ordinary. I made to hand it back to him, but he shook his head.
