“No!” Christopher jumped toward him.
The man swung the gun around toward Christopher to shoot him, but just then Travis stepped out of the cabin and shot him right in the middle of the chest with his .38. The assassin dropped dead on the deck of the ship.
Tiny, Christopher and Travis all ran to help Dillon. Tiny put pressure on the wound to stop the blood. He looked up at Travis. “My boat is faster. I’ll get him to shore.”
“Okay, let’s get him on your boat,” Travis said.
Julia stepped out of the cabin holding her cell phone. “Call John Spencer. He may still be in the area.”
“That’s right,” Dillon said. “He said he was a medic. I bet he has medical supplies on the yacht.”
Travis ran toward the cabin. “I’ll see if I can get him on the radio.”
“You okay, buddy?” Christopher handed Dillon a water bottle and cradled his head in his arms. “I thought I had lost you.”
“Yeah, me too.” Dillon winced in pain when he spoke.
Travis came out of the cabin. “I know where the yacht is. Tiny, get him on your boat and head northwest. You can intercept him.”
The men picked up Dillon and loaded him in Tiny’s boat. Christopher stayed with him. Travis took the wheel of his own boat and followed them. Tiny raced the boat as fast as it would go to intercept the yacht, which was only about ten miles away. He threaded the atoll and headed out to deep sea.
Christopher tried to keep Dillon comfortable. He held his hand on the gunshot to keep it from bleeding. “How do you feel?”
“That guy shot me twice.”
“Really?” Christopher started looking over Dillon’s body for the other wound.
“No, no,” Dillon said. “That was the same guy who shot me in Denver. He got me twice.”
“Oh wow,” Christopher said. “Well, he didn’t kill you.”
Dillon winced. “Not yet.”
“No, you’re going to be okay. Just hang on.”
Dillon began to see stars. Everything was growing dark. He fought to remain conscious. Christopher held him in his arms. Tiny gunned the boat, barely keeping it under control as he fought the waves.
Christopher looked up at Tiny. “Why?”
“What?” Tiny glanced down at him.
“Why did you bring those guys out here to murder us?” The wind took most of his volume.
“Dey lied to me! Dey said it was an emergency.”
“It’s not his fault,” Dillon said.
Christopher yelled up to him above the wind. “How did you find us?”
“We went back to sea,” Tiny said. “One of the other boats told us you were in the reef.”
Dillon grabbed Christopher by the shirt and shook his head. “He feels bad enough.”
Tiny talked on his radio and adjusted his course. He spotted the yacht and sped toward it. He pulled up to the loading area in the stern. Christopher threw a rope on the landing. John took it and tied it to a cleat, then pulled the boat up next to his own. He climbed into Tiny’s boat and helped Dillon onto his craft. He and Christopher helped Dillon walk to the first bedroom, the one that Dillon had slept in a few hours before. They laid him on the silk sheets on the bed. Victoria came in with bandages, a first aid kit, and alcohol.
“This is going to sting,” John said, working on his shoulder. He poured the alcohol over the wound and began to dig for the bullet with tweezers. He pulled out the bullet and it clinked when he dropped it in a metal bowl. He poured more alcohol. Dillon winced in pain. It felt like John was prodding his shoulder with a fireplace poker. “What’s your blood type?”
“O-positive,” Dillon said.
John turned and looked at Victoria. “You heard him. Roll up your sleeve.”
John began to suture the wound. The room spun and then went dark. Dillon dreamed of being in the deep water. He was sinking down, down. Darkness.
When he awoke, Travis and Julia had joined the others in the room. “How do you feel, sweetie?” Julia said, leaning over him. She held his right hand.
“This feels familiar,” Dillon said. “Not that I want to do this ever again.”
John came and leaned over him, examining the bandages over his wound. “Travis is O-positive too,” he said. “You were lucky.”
Dillon looked over at Travis and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Glad to do it,” Travis said, winking at him. He looked at John. “So, what do we do now? We need to get this guy to a hospital.”
“We’re only a few hours from Texas,” John said. “Once we untie from you, we’ll head there as quick as we can, maybe by noon tomorrow.” He looked at Dillon. “His color’s good. He’s stable now.”
“Thanks John,” Dillon said. He noticed that Tiny was missing from the group. “Where’s Tiny?”
“He’s taking the man’s body back to San Pedro,” Travis said. “He said he would find a dive team to retrieve the other body, back at the blue hole.” He glanced at Julia. “We have to go to the police to make a statement when we get back to the island.”
“We’re not just going to make a statement,” Julia said. “We’re going to show them what happened. I got it all on this camera.”
Dillon propped up on his elbow. “You did?”
She stepped up beside him. “Take a look.” She tapped her phone and a video appeared.
Dillon could see Morgan’s henchman on the boat, holding him by the arm with a gun to his head. “Why is Morgan calling me a spy?” Dillon said in the video, his voice a little muffled since she was shooting the scene from behind a window, but the sound was coming in through the open cabin door and was fairly clear. “You are a spy,” the man said. “Morgan can’t stand spies. He will hunt you down.” Then Dillon responded. “Why? Why are you calling me that?” Julia’s video went in and out of focus, but you could hear what was being said. The man continued to yell. “You hacked the system didn’t you? You saw the emails didn’t you? You spied on Mr. Morgan didn’t you?” He pushed the gun into the side of Dillon’s head with his finger on the trigger. “Well, he was watching you too. Now, it’s going to cost you.”
It made Dillon frightened again seeing the scene played out, seeing how close to death he had come. “No!” Christopher yelled out of view as the video continued. Julia panned over and videoed him lunging toward the assassin and Dillon. The man swung the gun around toward Christopher, and that’s when Travis stepped up beside her and fired his handgun, striking the man in the chest. Bam! The camera went silent for a moment as the audio readjusted, but you could see the man fall to the deck and everyone running to check on Dillon. Christopher reached down and took the gun. Then the video stopped.
John reached over and took the phone from Julia’s hand. “Let’s make a copy of this right now. I don’t want anything to happen to it. Come with me in case I need your password.” They left the room.
The room fell quiet for a few seconds, then Christopher stepped up to Dillon. “We’ve got him now. We have the proof we’ve been needing.”
Dillon nodded. “Yeah, I think we do.”
“It was Chris who insisted that Tiny retrieve the body from the blue hole,” Travis said. “I thought it would be okay to leave him down there, but Chris said his family deserved to get him back and know what happened.”
Dillon got a more serious look on his face. “I want Charles Morgan to know what happened here. I want him to know that he sent two men to kill me and we are sending back two body bags.”
“Careful,” Christopher said. “You don’t want to play that game with him. He’ll send four men next time.”
Dillon winced as he sat up on both elbows. “There’s not gonna be a next time.” He sat up. “This must stop. This must stop today.”
“Shhhh,” Julia said, coming back into the room. “Today you need rest.” She helped him lie back down.
Victoria brought him a glass of diet soft drink on ice. “Here, sugar.”
John came in right behind her with Julia’s phon
e. “Okay, I made a copy of this and it’s safe in the cloud. I made another copy on a flash drive, just to be sure.” He walked up to Dillon. “I’m going to take you to Galveston. They have a good hospital there. When they release you, you can fly home. I’ll take care of it.” He glanced over at Christopher. “You can stay with him if you want, or if you need to get home–”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll stay with him,” he said. “Thanks so much for all you’ve done for us.”
“Hey listen,” John said, “you guys have made this trip an adventure.” He turned more serious. “And I want to help you stop Morgan from murdering people. There’s no excuse for that.”
Dillon looked at Travis. “I guess you need to get back to the island.”
“Yes, we need to go straight to the police station and tell them what happened,” he said. “Tiny said they would be fair to us.”
“Especially when they see my tape,” Julia said.
“How did you think to video that?” Christopher said to her. “Right in the middle of all of that shooting?”
“You’ll notice I didn’t get the beginning,” Julia said. “But we were in the cabin and I felt I had to do something. Travis kept telling me to duck, but I knew this might be important.”
“I couldn’t get her to stay down,” Travis said.
“I heard gunshots when I came up from the water,” Dillon said. “What was that?”
“Well, Travis and Julia ran into the cabin and I was kind of stuck out on the porch,” Christopher said. “He was shooting the side of the boat where you went over. Then he came over into our boat and grabbed me before I could even react.” He looked over at Travis and Julia. “He fired into the cabin. I thought we were all dead.” He glanced at Dillon. “I thought you were dead and we were next. It was horrible.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry I brought all of this down here on you,” Dillon said.
“It’s not your fault,” Julia said, taking him by the hand.
“No, it’s not,” Christopher said. “Not at all.”
Dillon was quiet for a moment, then looked back at Christopher. “What was the other man doing? And Tiny?”
“It all happened so fast,” Christopher said. “They didn’t get in on the action until they saw you coming back aboard. I think Tiny was in shock.”
Dillon felt of the bandages on his shoulder. “So how bad am I hit?”
“It could have been worse,” John said. “A lot worse.”
“We better go so John can get you to Texas,” Travis said.
He and Julia hugged Dillon and Christopher goodbye. Julia ran her fingers through Dillon’s short hair. “You get better now, okay?”
“We’ll talk to you soon,” Travis said. “I’ll let you know how it goes with the authorities.”
“Tell them you’re with me,” John said. “That may help too.”
“We have some clothes at your house,” Christopher said. “I guess we can get them when we come back.”
“Good, then it’s settled,” Julia said. “You have to come back to get them.” She kissed Dillon on the forehead and they turned to leave the room.
“My microchip,” Dillon said, stopping them. “I left it at your house too. If you will, mail that to me. It’s a little electronic-looking bug in a plastic bag. I think it’s in my suitcase.”
“Will do,” Travis said. Then he and Julia left the room.
John followed them out. In a few minutes, Dillon felt the surge to the north as the yacht accelerated toward Galveston. He looked out the portal and could see the ocean zipping by.
“I want to sit up,” Dillon said. “Let’s go to the living quarters.”
“You’re up to it?” Victoria said. She was sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Yeah.” He winced as he stood to his feet. “Yeah, I’m fine.” It hurt to move, but Dillon made his way to the couch in the living area. John and Christopher followed him.
“We should be at Texas by tomorrow evening,” John said, leaning back on the couch.
“Thanks again, John,” Dillon said.
“We’ve got him,” Christopher said, changing the subject back to Charles Morgan. “This video is the proof we need.”
Dillon felt on top of his empty pockets. “Did my phone make it on board?”
“Yes, Travis brought it. It’s in our bedroom,” John said.
Dillon glanced at him. “Would you transfer that video over to it for me?”
“Consider it done.”
Dillon sat a moment, finishing his diet cola. Suddenly, he looked back at Christopher and shook his head. “It won’t work. We can’t show this to anyone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, Morgan has the best lawyers in the world. A whole army of them. They’ll either get it thrown out or bury our case for years. In the meantime, we would disappear.” He looked over at John. “No, I have another idea. I think I know how to deal with Charles Morgan.”
“What are you thinking?” John said.
“I don’t want to go home just yet. I’ll let them check me out at Galveston, that’s fine, but then I want to go back to Denver.”
“Denver?” Christopher raised his voice. “You want to go back to Denver?”
Dillon looked over at him. “There’s only one thing Charles Morgan seems to understand.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Christopher said.
Dillon shook his head. “No, not this time. I need to do this alone.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dillon was going to be in pain for a while. The bullet had fractured his collarbone. The surgeons at Galveston had put him back together, but it was going to take time to heal. And he had to be careful that he didn’t refresh the damage while it was doing so.
He stood and hugged Christopher goodbye at Hobby Airport in Houston. John had purchased both of them tickets. Christopher would fly straight to Springfield, and Dillon would make a detour in Denver, then fly home a day later. Christopher’s flight was two hours earlier than his, so Dillon would have to wait alone before he departed.
Christopher looked into his eyes. “You be careful. I don’t know what you have in mind, but you must come home to Springfield. I can’t do this without you. I need you.”
“I will be careful and I will come home,” Dillon said. “But I can’t live my life looking over my shoulder. It has to stop.”
“I’ll see you in Missouri.” Christopher turned and went down the tunnel to his plane.
Dillon removed the sim card from his phone and threw it in a trash can on the concourse. He purchased another one in a gift shop and called his cell service on a payphone to activate it. He also bought a charger since his was in his suitcase in San Pedro. He plugged in the phone and let it charge while he waited for his flight.
It was just after midnight when he arrived in Denver, four days after he had been shot at sea. His left arm was in a sling, but he could move without stabbing pain now. John had given him a roll of hundred dollar bills and he used the first to catch a taxi from the airport. He knew the address to Charles Morgan’s house because of his surveillance work, but he didn’t want to go straight there. He had something he needed to purchase first.
He tapped the cab driver on the shoulder and waved the hundred-dollar bill in the air. “I need a weapon. Can you take me somewhere where I can get a handgun?”
“I don’t know anywhere,” the driver said, glancing at him in the mirror.
“Look, I’m not going to shoot anyone. I promise. I just need it for my own protection.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out another hundred-dollar bill.
The driver ignored him for a moment and kept driving, then glanced back at him. “Okay, I know a guy, but you didn’t hear about him from me.”
“Fair enough.”
It was nearly seven in the morning before Dillon arrived on Charles Morgan’s street. He stopped the driver about a block from Charles’ gate and told him to wait. He pulled out his cell phone and called th
e surveillance room in Springfield.
Ryan answered. “Hello Dillon. Where in the heck are you?”
“Ryan, I thought you were dead.”
“I thought I was too. Two guys came and beat the crap out of me. But they think you are the one who hacked the system. They were just looking for you.”
“Sorry about that, buddy. You didn’t even know what to tell them.”
“Didn’t have a clue.”
Dillon looked over his shoulder. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, if I can.”
“Remember when you told me you could open Charles Morgan’s gate. Do you think you still can?”
“Hang on a minute.” He was silent for a long time. Dillon didn’t know what had happened or if the call had been disconnected. Finally, he came back on. “Okay, when do you want it?”
“Stay on the line. I’ll tell you when.”
Dillon got back into the taxi. “Drive up to that big gate and park the car. Will you do that?”
“Okay.”
Dillon got out and checked his handgun to make sure it was loaded when they arrived. He walked up to the gate and held the phone to his ear. “Okay, Ryan. Open it now.”
Nothing happened for several seconds, then the gate began to slowly open. A guard was in a kiosk to the side of the driveway. He ran out to see who had opened it, with his weapon drawn. Dillon shot him in the foot. Bang! The man screamed out in pain and reached down to tend to his wound. Dillon stepped up and took his gun from him, along with his phone, radio and keys. He tucked the radio into his sling and threw the gun and keys into a nearby flower garden.
Dillon turned to the taxi driver. “Come help me with this.” He reached down and pulled off the guard’s shoe. His sock will turning red. He pulled it off too, keeping his gun trained on the guard. He couldn’t work with the sock like he wanted with only one hand so he handed the sock to the taxi driver. “Tie this very tightly around his ankle.”
The driver did as he asked.
Dillon kept his hand on the wound, putting pressure on it. He gestured toward the guard building. “See if there is a towel or something in there to wrap this foot.”
The Dead Peasants' Contract: A Sequel to The Dead Peasants File (The Dead Peasants' Series Book 2) Page 17
