Death Comes Ashore

by Corinne O'Flynn

  She was excited.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Five minutes, everybody.” Agent Darrell Parks made his rounds through the yacht, stopping on each deck and cabin area to make sure everyone was on alert. The windows inside the cabin had been covered with light-blocking shades in order to conceal the fact that the boat was crawling with agents.

  Two agents across from her played a miniature game that looked like magical tennis with their fingers. They flicked a glowing ball between them, passing the time while they were confined to their corner of the cabin.

  “Is this the place? I can’t see anything through this mess,” Young said, peering out into the fog.

  Corey blinked and scanned the ocean. Over the last fifteen minutes or so, the fog had thickened so deep, it obscured everything. It gave the scene on the boat a dreamy quality and muffled all sound. It also made Corey feel like she was sailing on the last boat on Earth.

  Agent Parks cocked a bushy dark eyebrow at Young. “Sure as shooting hope so, Inspector. We should be at the coordinates in another minute or so. We’ll know for sure if our guy was given good intel or if this was a setup.” He clutched a set of binoculars as he climbed the stairs leading to the second cockpit on the upper deck.

  Young nodded as the rumble from the engine cycled down to a low purr.

  The earpiece hidden under Corey’s hair clicked and a male voice said, “Op Lead on coms. Testing.”

  An unidentified voice followed. “Copy that Op Lead. Command reading you five by five.”

  “Thank you, Command.”

  Corey glanced at Young. He pressed his finger to his ear piece, listening. Another voice chimed in. It took a moment for Corey to recognize Agent Parks’ voice through the tinny earpiece. “Op Lead, this is Big Boss. I’m in position up top. Status?”

  “No visual through this fog, sir. Radar’s picking up scatter on and off, but all dark now.”

  “Copy that, Op Lead. Same here. Update when you see something.”

  “Roger that, Big Boss. Shouldn’t be long.”

  They had been briefed on the possibility that the intel for this mission was out of date, or meant as bait for a set up. Everyone on board knew what they were getting into, that this mission could crash and burn. But that was what made them the kind of people who did this job for a living. They believed in taking risks if there was the slightest chance the odds could go their way.

  In addition to their guy on the inside, the PIO also had another person working both sides of the deal. Corey hadn’t met him but she’d caught a glimpse of Sheikh Hamid bin Zayed Al Tazin when she’d gone downstairs to one of the bedrooms where she’d changed into her gown.

  Turns out, Sheik Hamid was connected to the Oasis Group and a past customer of both their heroin, which he sold to the people in his country, and also purchased several of their Half Moon Girls.

  When she mentioned that to Young this afternoon, he didn’t see the point.

  “Why him? Won’t they know he’s bogus?”

  “But that’s just it… he’s not bogus. He’s the real dude. This is actually his boat. He’s done this before on his own. The PIO has three of his sons in custody on drug charges and he agreed to come here and loan us his boat in exchange for his sons’ release.”

  Young shook his head. “So they’re just letting his sons out after this is done?” Corey recalled how her partner’s face had tightened. Letting bad guys go free went against every grain of who Young was.

  Corey repeated the words Agent Parks had shared with them earlier. “You use all the cards you’ve been dealt. All of them. Besides, we can apprehend those guys again. We know who they are and where they live. Those women on those boats? We don’t pull them out tonight? They’ll probably be lost forever. This is probably our only chance at this operation. Seems worth it to me, no question.”

  Young nodded. He’d been there for Parks’ pump-the-team pep talk too. Didn’t make the thoughts any less sobering.

  Every agent on board was hanging on faith that the undercover agent and the Sheikh would deliver.

  Deliver what? For Corey, this is about justice. Justice for Nikki, for Alicia, and yes, if she were being honest… for herself.

  For Alicia, Corey knew it was one-hundred percent personal. To complicate matters, Alicia represented the classic example of why you don’t bring civilians into undercover jobs. Her motivation had been clear from the start. She wanted to bury these guys.

  The agents and the counselors had worked with Alicia during her training for the mission. And everybody was on the same page as far as what would and would not be happening. The objective was clear: The agents and Young were to apprehend as many of the bad guys as possible and bring them in to face justice. Corey and Alicia were to locate and rescue the women.

  The radio popped again. “Big boss, this is Op Lead.”

  “Go Op Lead.”

  “Sir, we’ve reached the coordinates provided.”

  Everyone glanced over the side of the boat, into the fog, which seemed thicker than ever.

  “Copy that, Op Lead. It’s murky as mud from the top deck. What say you?”

  “Same here, sir. Beginning to wonder if maybe we’ve been given bad…”

  The voice trailed off and left everyone hanging.

  Young looked up at Corey and then got to his feet. “Op Lead? Come in.”

  “I’m here, sir. Hold on, sir. Radar’s giving strange feedback and… whoa.”

  Listening to the conversation through his earpiece like the rest of them, Corey and Young shot to their feet. Corey didn’t see anything from where she stood.

  “Wow!” Young turned to Corey. “You seein’ this?”

  From her vantage point on the aft deck, she couldn’t see anything in front of the boat. She got to her feet and followed Young’s gaze. He was taller than her, so Corey gripped the railing and leaned over to get a better look. “Damn.”

  The boat seemed to pass through a wall of fog into a wide area of open clear-skied sea. The fog peeled back, revealing what could only be described as a floating city of yachts. When she was younger, Corey had spent many summer nights on raft parties. As a cop, she saw them all the time—hordes of twenty-somethings, hanging out on the water with boats and dinghies tied together to make an island of sorts. It was part of island life. But this… This was like a raft party for the upper crust.

  Corey’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.”

  “No kidding.” Young brushed his jaw with his fingers. “Damn, Corey. Look at all that bank out there.”

  A dozen or so large cruising yachts were moored like flower petals around a huge center mega-yacht that was easily double the size of the eighty-foot cruiser the PIO had borrowed from Sheik Hamid.

  Young nudged Corey’s shoulder. “What would it be like to live like that? You ever wonder?”

  Corey eyed the array of boats. They were all kinds and sizes, and tied together in twos and threes all around the perimeter of the big boat. “Not really. All I see are dirtbags with their dirty money. Don’t worry Ethan, you don’t have to be rich like that to be happy.”

  Corey’s earpiece crackled. “Op Lead to Big Boss. You have the com.”

  “Copy Op Lead. Team. This is Big Boss. I want all uniforms inside the cabin. Inspector Proctor and Miss Turnkey, into position. Agent Crowley, please escort Sheikh Hamid to the bridge. You all know the drill. Attack wands at the ready. Wait for my signal.”

  Corey tapped her ear piece. “Copy.” And then she listened as the rest of the teams chimed in their confirmation.

  Young turned to Corey. “Be careful, eh? These guys aren’t fooling around, you know?”

  Corey took in a deep breath, her mind on the past and the things she knew about the kind of people in this organization who preyed on those weaker than them. “Yeah. You too. Thanks, partner.”

  Everyone on the boat snapped into action. The agents and inspectors moved through the cabin, securi
ng all the documents and making sure all the window shades were in place. Nobody used magic and nobody spoke.

  The plan was to join the yacht party and moor up to the other boats under the guise of the Sheikh and his entourage who’d arranged for an invitation after the PIO made their position clear. Once the boat was in place, the Sheikh and his “people” would board the main yacht. Corey and Alicia were tasked with locating the girls. The agents were to take down the mafia guys and apprehend all the rich pigs who were here to do business.

  It all seemed so simple on paper. They’d gone through the plan a dozen times. But now, in person, it took on a whole different feel. For one thing, she was dressed in a slinky low-cut evening gown with spaghetti straps and a slit that rode way too far up her thigh. Also, having to navigate across a bunch of huge boats tethered together made the logistics of their plan more difficult, harder to picture in her mind. It was the one aspect that had Agent Parks on edge: they knew everything else about the plan, except the layout.

  With all the agents hidden inside the cabin, Corey walked over to Alicia and sat down on the bench next to her.

  “How are you doing?” Corey asked. “You ready?” Corey wasn’t sure Alicia had heard her.

  Alicia’s gaze was focused on the collection of yachts sweeping into view over their starboard side as they made their way around the stern of the main yacht. As they pulled closer, they could read the name of the big boat. It was called Oasis IV. Corey shook her head. The idea that they had at least three more boats…

  “Alicia…”

  “They are monsters.” Alicia’s voice was barely above a whisper. Corey thought it was almost as though she were talking to herself. “Monsters. You know, you spend your childhood freaking out about creatures under the bed and in forests. They tell us stories about the ocean spirit and the bogeyman and the evils of using dark magic, all things that could come after us… Nobody ever tells you that the real monsters are right there in front of us. They’re walking among us, pretending to be like us. But they’re not.” Alicia wiped a tear from her cheek but never took her gaze off the boats. “It’s not fair. They hide behind their money and their fancy boats and corruption. But what they really are, are monsters. They’re the ones we need to fear. These people who are too rich to care. The ones who were too rich to be caught.”

  Corey placed her hand on top of Alicia’s and squeezed. “They’re not too rich to be caught. Not tonight. I need you to focus. Stay with me, all right? You and me? We’re going to find out where those girls are, and we’re going to bring them home. What you say to that?”

  For the first time, Alicia turned to face Corey and smiled. She returned the squeeze. “I say it sounds pretty badass.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The captain cut the Sea Witch’s engine and the rumble of the motor was replaced by the throbbing pulse of upbeat club music pounding from the Oasis. Corey watched as the boat’s crew tossed the deck ropes over to the men on the Oasis deck who waited for the smaller yacht to slip into position.

  The hint of a soft jazz saxophone seeped through the windows of the cabin to the aft deck where Corey and Alicia lounged on the sofa. Funny, Corey hadn’t noticed there had been any music on their boat until just now.

  The two women sipped champagne from crystal flutes and smiled at one another, looking every bit like a pair of bored socialites with no interest or care in what was going on around them.

  Pretending to be consumed with her champagne, Corey took in the details of the Oasis casually, as if nothing at all were out of the ordinary. A burly man dressed in head-to-toe black stood like a statue on the bow of the big yacht, his stance wide and his black boots planted on the white deck. He watched as the crew waved a stream of glowing light and tied their new arrival onto a thick cable that looped through the railing and wound all around the lower deck of the big boat. Another pair of crewmen extended a gangway between the yachts, connecting the two boats with a bridge.

  “I hope that guy isn’t going to be there long.” Alicia flicked her eyes toward the guard on the forward deck.

  Corey arched her neck, stretching to take another look. The guard took a long drag off a cigarette and flicked the butt into the sea. Then he turned and walked toward the cockpit. Corey smiled. “Look at that. Your wish is his command.”

  Corey watched as Sheikh Hamid made his way down the stairs from the fly bridge to the main deck, and onto the gangway, followed by his entourage of agents disguised as servants. He stepped onto the Oasis and waited while one of the crew members said something to him.

  A moment later, the door to the cockpit opened and a gray-haired man dressed in a tuxedo stepped onto the deck. Hamid greeted the man in the tuxedo and then removed his watch and pulled the cuff of his sleeve up, exposing his wrist. The man turned the Sheikh’s hand over, palm up, and inspected the scar Corey knew lay hidden under his Rolex. The two marks on the men’s arms glowed violet as they touched.

  Corey wanted to look away but her job demanded that she stay alert. She glanced at Alicia, who had gone white.

  “It’s disgusting that he’s a member of their sick club,” Corey said.

  Alicia nodded, regaining her composure. She looked down at her lap. “At least he got to choose his…”

  “His what?” Corey asked.

  “His scar. I can barely look at mine. It seems impossible to me that he opted-in to his. There is a special place in hell for monsters like him.”

  The look on Alicia’s face sent a chill down Corey’s spine. Everything about her was tight and stressed. Corey understood. She really did. But she had to keep the girl on track. “Hamid is not our problem. Not tonight. Tonight, he’s our ticket through this. Try to focus on the girls.” She reached for Alicia and touched her shoulder.

  Alicia pulled her hand away. “I know what you’re doing. I know agent Parks thinks I’m going to go postal or something. Don’t worry about me, Corey. I got my head on straight. I promise.”

  Corey’s earpiece popped and the whispered voice of Special Agent Cooper—one of the sheikh’s “servants” — filled her head. “This boat is glorious.”

  Corey and Alicia stiffened at the codeword. Had agent Cooper said the boat was amazing, it meant it wasn’t safe for them just yet. But saying that the boat was glorious meant there were no guards in the immediate area. Guess the dude smoking on the deck had somewhere else to be. Corey’s earpiece popped again with the sound of agent Cooper clicking off.

  Another pop. “This is Op Lead. Oasis is a go. Repeat Oasis is a go.”

  “All right. Let’s do this.” Corey stood and took Alicia’s champagne flute, placing the two glasses in the narrow glass stand on the side of the bar. She and Alicia stepped into their jeweled flip-flops and made their way to the front of the boat and the newly added gangway.

  “Wait.” Alicia hooked her arm through Corey’s elbow and smiled.

  They stepped up onto the gangway together, leaning on each other like they were tipsy from too much alcohol or drugs or both. They stepped onto the port side deck of the Oasis and made their way back toward the stern.

  Alicia’s hand felt clammy against Corey’s forearm. She couldn’t imagine doing a job like this without any formal training. She tapped Alicia’s hand. “You’re doing fine. Let’s just wander a little farther. Look for some stairs down.”

  While they didn’t know the make and model of the boats they were going to encounter, Corey and Alicia had gone over them schematics of several different styles during their briefing. They all shared the same general layout. Bedrooms and private spaces took up the majority of the lower deck, with the huge engines filling the rear third of the deck.

  One level up, the main deck usually featured a galley, the captain’s quarters, and a large, open space that doubled as a dining room and living room. Outside these covered rooms lay open decking meant for lounging and entertaining.

  Depending on the size of the boat, it could have a third or fourth deck, too. Most of the bo
ats Corey could see did indeed have a third-level bridge deck, which was laid out similarly to the main deck. But this level usually sported a dive platform for access to the water for toys like Jet Skis and the ability to swim off the boat.

  There were lots of rooms on a boat like this, but if the intel was right, there were more than a dozen girls on board waiting to be sold at auction. If Corey were in charge, she would hold the girls in the bedrooms on the lower decks. So that’s where she was headed.

  They walked along the bridge deck searching for stairs. As they stepped along the exterior cabin, Corey noted that the windows were shaded but everything glowed from the interior light. There were a lot of people inside, judging by the sound of it. Also judging by the sound of the music pulsing through the deck boards, they were already partying hard.

  The music grew louder for a moment as a door opened somewhere in front of them. Corey froze, pulling Alicia to a stop. There was nowhere else to go. Corey braced for a fight.

  A stocky man with the buzz cut stepped around the rear of the cabin and made his way to the railing. He flicked his Zippo lighter several times before it caught and took a long drag off his cigarette. When he flicked the lighter closed, he noticed Corey and Alicia standing there frozen.

  “Nu ti dayosh! What is this?” the man asked. His Russian accent was thick, and English was clearly not his first language.

  Alicia hiccupped and giggled. “I think we’re lost.” She slurred her words and managed the most innocent laugh Corey had ever heard.

  “Is there a bathroom?” Corey blinked slowly and looked at the man through heavy, lidded eyes. She tried to sound innocent and cute like Alicia, but something in her wouldn’t go there.

  The man grabbed Corey’s wrist, hard. He pulled her toward him and spoke in a low voice. “You should not be here. It is not yet time. Go back.” He tilted his head across the other side of the deck.

  Alicia giggled again. “Which way? All these boats look the same.” She whined as she leaned into him, her neck arched so she stayed looking at him.