Blood Cruise: A Deep Sea Thriller

by Jake Bible

  “Just stop,” Tony said as he moved to stand over Nick and leaned down, his hand gripping the brass railing, squeezing it, working at it like he wanted to tear it off and give Nick a good, hard whack with it. “Lou’s dead. Ms. Romanski admitted as much, unfortunately. I’m guessing so is Frank. Be honest, Sheeran.”

  “Yeah,” Nick replied in a very quiet voice. “Frank’s dead.”

  “Who’s outside the door?” Tony asked.

  “The others,” Nick said, still keeping his voice down.

  “That include the rogue INTERPOL agent slash bartender?” Niya asked.

  “Rogue what?” Nick replied. “What are you talking about?”

  He cried out and grabbed his nose as Tony gave him a hard shot to the face.

  “Shit, man!” Nick yelled. “What was that for?”

  The bridge door started to open and Niya put four bullets through it. There was a cry and several shouts then silence.

  “You were right,” Tony said, crouching next to Nick and looking over his shoulder at Niya. “They all caved fast and followed like little ducklings.”

  “I knew they would,” Niya said. “Simply because they believe the INTERPOL guy is legit. But I know he’s not.”

  “He’s not?” Nick asked. “Oh, shit…”

  “Your entire world just came crashing down, didn’t it?” Tony asked then laughed. He patted Nick on the cheek. “Only one way you’re getting out of this, Sheeran, and that is to do exactly what I say.”

  “Great,” Nick said. “But they aren’t going to. Sounds like you hit one of them, but the rest are still out there. You can ask me to do whatever you want me to, but they’re going to still come for you.”

  “No, they aren’t,” Tony replied. He fished out his phone and started flicking through pictures. “See that? Whittier’s niece. See this one? Garfield’s sister. Here’s Holstein’s nephew and sister-in-law. Clow’s daughter and her dyke girlfriend are in this one. I’m being sent these every five minutes.”

  “Bullshit,” Nick said. “Ben’s daughter is safe. The Guillotine won’t get her.”

  “The Guillotine? He’s not my guy,” Tony said. “Last I heard he turned and is working for whatever agency needs him.”

  Nick’s stomach lurched and he burped up rancid crab cakes and bourbon.

  “Pardon you,” Tony said as he stood up, waving his hand in front of his face. “Warn a person when you’re going to do that.”

  “You have someone watching my family?” Niya asked.

  “You don’t have family,” Tony replied. “And I didn’t know you would be here. That bit of intel snuck by.”

  “Lucky me,” Niya said. She fired through the door again and there was more shouting, but obviously from further away. “Can we get on with this?”

  “You are going to take one of the speedboats over with my guys to that ship,” Tony said to Nick. “You do that, they find what I want them to find, everyone gets back here alive, and I don’t cut your dick off and feed it to you.”

  “Whatwill you do to me?” Nick asked. “Because I know you aren’t just gonna give me a hug and a pat on the ass and send me on my way.”

  “That’s entirely up to you, Sheeran,” Tony said. “I honestly may do nothing. I know the connections your family has. It could make my legitimate business dealings uncomfortable if I harm you significantly.”

  “But you might still harm me insignificantly?” Nick asked.

  “Again, entirely up to you,” Tony said. “You can drive one of the speedboats, right?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said.

  “Good,” Tony said. “Then Niya here will escort you down to the hold where you’ll meet two of my men since I think that’s all that’s left alive after your little poker party decided to hunt them down.”

  “Manny killed one, we aren’t sure what happened to the others,” Nick said. “Honestly, Mr. Giraldi, I have no idea what happened to the others.”

  “I did,” Niya said to Nick. “I happened to them. So do not mess with me, alright? You even smell like you’re going to screw around and I’ll put two in your head and figure out how to drive the boat myself.”

  Nick looked from one gangster to the other and swallowed hard. He slowly stood up and faced Captain Staggs. “You aren’t going to do anything, are you?”

  “There is nothing I can do, Mr. Sheeran,” Captain Staggs said. “I am keeping this ship from succumbing to the growing waves. Right now that is my one and only job.”

  “Which he gets to keep doing,” Tony said. “I got nothing against Cap here. I got nothing against you either, Sheeran, except you’re a spoiled piece of shit. Despite that, if you do what you’re told, you get to live. That’s going to be a hard deal to pass up.”

  “Fine,” Nick said. “I’ll drive the boat. But where the hell are we going?”

  “There’s a special ship just off our port side right now,” Tony said. “You take the speedboat over there and let my men handle the rest. You get them back here and your job is done.”

  “That’s it?” Nick asked. “Nothing else?”

  “For now,” Tony said. “I do reserve the right to change my mind.”

  “Of course you do,” Nick said. “One problem.”

  “What’s that?” Tony asked.

  “It’s not going to be easy to get past the others,” Nick said.

  Tony tossed him the phone.

  “Show them those and I think they’ll fall in line,” Tony responded. He looked at Niya. “You ready, beautiful?”

  “I’m ready, ugly,” she replied. “Come on, Mr. Sheeran. Let’s get this over with.”

  31.

  “Where the hell are the Carls?” Nick snapped as he and Ben stepped off the platform and onto the speedboat. “They hid their asses fast.”

  “This is crap, man,” Ben said as Nick readied the speedboat. “You have no idea what you’re getting in to.”

  “I have no idea what I’m already in,” Nick replied. “None of us do.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the two men standing a few feet away, their hands occupied with automatic rifles, not semi-auto pistols.

  “Sorry I got you and Maggie involved, Benny Boy,” Nick said. “I thought this was a simple sting operation. INTERPOL was going to handle it all.”

  “But we haven’t exactly been dealing with INTERPOL, have we?” Ben sighed. “This is why we split up, Nicky. You never did your research. Every new game was going to be the Big One, the game that set us up for life and made us legends. But that never happened.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Nick said. “But this is different. You gotta believe me.”

  “Do I?” Ben asked. “Why would I?”

  Nick looked at Tony’s men again. “I’m sorry, man. I truly am.”

  “My daughter’s life is at stake, Nicky,” Ben said. “Sorry will not cut it.”

  “Let’s get a move on!” one of the men shouted.

  “You better go,” Nick said. “It’s going to get dicey when I open the side door. The water is rough and getting rougher.”

  “Do you know what you’re looking for?” Ben asked.

  “He doesn’t need to know,” the other man snapped. “He just needs to drive the boat.”

  “Chill, dickhead,” Nick said. “Same with you, dickhead junior.”

  “Mikey,” the first man said. “You call me Mikey or I jam my hand down your throat and pull your asshole out your mouth.”

  “Mikey it is,” Nick replied. “And this is…?”

  “Chip,” the other man said.

  “Chip,” Nick echoed. “Well, Chip and Mikey, you want to give me an idea of what we’ll be doing on that ship?”

  “No,” Mikey said.

  “I’m dying to know as well,” Niya said as she hopped onto the speedboat. She was dressed in thick jeans and a heavy sweater with a knit cap pulled down over her hair. She had two shoulder holsters and the .45s were tucked securely in them. “That’s why I’m coming with.”

  “Mr
. Giraldi said you were only coming down here to see us off,” Mikey said.

  “Change of plans,” Niya said, her arms folded across her chest. To an average observer, the simple gesture would look like she was just impatient. To a trained eye, it was obvious she was half a second from drawing her pistols. “Care to argue with me?”

  “I’ll make sure Mr. Giraldi knows,” Ben said as he jumped off the boat and back onto the platform. He gave Nick a brief smile. “Try not to die.”

  “That’s always my plan,” Nick said as he started up the boat and the engines roared to life.

  Ben hurried out of the hold and watched the hull slide open from behind the protection of a very thick door and heavy duty porthole. Nick gave a brief wave as water poured into the yacht and slammed against the speedboat. The boat was quickly lowered into the rising water. Once it was free of its lift, Nick took it out into the open ocean and the large waves that were pounding the ship.

  As soon as the speedboat was out, the hull closed and the bilge pump went to work on the water in the hold. Ben started to turn away, but something caught his eye. A movement in the water. Something more substantial than just a heavy wave. He stared through the porthole until the water was completely pumped out then shook his head. Nothing there.

  “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t start seeing things.”

  32.

  The towel was dark red with blood, the color continuing to deepen as the flow refused to stop.

  “He’s going to bleed out,” Lane said as the last of Giraldi’s men looked on from the game room doorway. Lane’s hand was pressed against Manny’s belly as the wounded man lay on the poker table. “Bar towels can only do so much, mate. How about you go find us a first aid kit? Or better yet, how about a doctor?”

  “If he dies, he dies,” the man replied.

  “What’s your name?” Carlos asked from behind the bar. He poured a healthy amount of vodka over ice and tossed in a single olive. “I like to know who’s pointing a gun at me.”

  “None of your business,” the guard replied.

  “You know what, None Of Your Business?” Carlos smirked as he took a sip of his drink. “I’m not sure I like your attitude.”

  “I don’t care,” the guard said.

  “But does your boss?” Carlos asked. “This is all happening pretty damn fast and I have a gut feeling it wasn’t supposed to go down this way.” He took another sip. “In fact, my gut is also telling me that maybe this was a rush job. None of you seemed quite prepared to handle the difficulties of pulling off a heist at high seas.”

  “Ain’t a heist,” the guard replied. “It’s a… Good try. I ain’t saying nothing.”

  “It was a good try,” Lane said. “Now, if this isn’t a heist then what is it? Not exactly a hostage situation when you let your hostages die.”

  “Lane’s right. That guy is dying,” Carlos agreed. “Look at him.”

  “He’s INTERPOL,” the guard responded. “Let him die. No one cares about some corrupt cop.”

  “Corrupt?” Lane asked. “Interesting.”

  Manny convulsed and fresh blood flowed from under the bar towel, staining the poker felt around him almost black. Carlos grabbed a couple of fresh towels and tossed them at Lane who caught them easily.

  “You know you’re missing someone, right?” Carlos asked the guard. “Haven’t seen Niya in a while.”

  “She went with Sheeran,” the guard said.

  “Did she?” Carlos asked. “Huh. From what I overheard, that isn’t part of the plan either. You want to tell us why your boss seems to be making this up as he goes along?”

  “All I’m going to tell you is to be quiet,” the guard said.

  “No need to get hostile, mate,” Lane said. “But my friend here may have miscounted.”

  “I did?” Carlos asked.

  “You did, mate,” Lane said “There was another woman playing here. A different woman than Niya. Remember her? Jessica Holstein?”

  “Don’t forget the blogger’s girl,” Carlos said. “Who miscounted now?”

  “True, true, but she wasn’t playing,” Lane said.

  “Good call,” Carlos responded, sipping again at his drink. He smiled at the guard. “Now, the girlfriend was pretty wasted, so she’s probably not a problem. But what about Ms. Holstein? You’ve heard of her, yes? You know she’s a tough cookie and could present quite the problem to your boss if she’s loose on this ship.”

  “Tough cookie?” Lane laughed. “You sound like a twenties gangster.”

  “Cool,” Carlos said. “That’s what I was going for. I should probably be drinking rot gut gin, though.” He raised his glass. “But as long as we have the good stuff then I’m drinking the good stuff.”

  The guard looked from Lane to Carlos to the bleeding and dying Manny. His grip on his rifle tightened and he shifted from foot to foot.

  “Our babysitter looks nervous, Carlos,” Lane said. “I think you may have confused him.”

  “Did I confuse you, None Of Your Business?” Carlos asked.

  “Stop calling me None Of Your Business,” the guard replied. “It’s Joey. My name is Joey.”

  “Was that so hard, Joey?” Carlos asked. “That didn’t seem hard to me.”

  “Me neither,” Lane said.

  “You know what else wouldn’t be hard?” Carlos asked. “Getting on that radio of yours and seeing if your boss wants you to track down the stray player.”

  “Jessica,” Lane said.

  “Jessica,” Carlos agreed. “I know from personal experience that she is wicked good with a pistol in her hand.”

  “Not bad with a knife, either, mate,” Lane added.

  “Is she?” Carlos asked.

  “She is,” Lane said. “I’d show you the scar, but it’s in a personal place.”

  “Ouch,” Carlos chuckled.

  “Ouch, indeed,” Lane said.

  The two men watched Joey as the guard’s confusion grew.

  “Jesus,” Carlos muttered. “We’ve got a bright one here.”

  “The radio,” Lane said to Joey. “Get on the radio and report to your boss that you have one person not accounted for.”

  Joey hesitated then started to reach for the radio on his belt. His rifle dipped and Carlos’s eyes shifted to the weapon. Joey instantly lifted the rifle and put it to his shoulder, taking aim at Carlos.

  “I’m going to call Mr. Giraldi,” Joey said. “From out in the hall. Don’t try a damn thing.”

  “What can we try?” Carlos asked. “We’re in a poker room with a bar. It’s where we’d planned to be all night anyway, just with more poker going on.”

  “I try anything and this bloke is dead,” Lane said, nodding his chin at the bone white Manny. “Not that he isn’t heading that direction anyway.”

  “Poor guy,” Carlos said, topping off his glass and throwing another olive in.

  “You ever eat those olives?” Lane asked.

  “I let them soak,” Carlos said. “Save them for last.”

  “I’m not an olive fan,” Lane said.

  “Stay put,” Joey said as he reached back and opened the game room doors. “I’ll be back as soon as I speak to Mr. Giraldi.”

  “Good plan,” Lane said.

  “Best plan I’ve heard all night,” Carlos said.

  They watched the man move slowly out of the room and both sighed as the door closed behind him and the distinct sound of the lock being engaged clicked loudly.

  “Is it that hard to hire men that aren’t functionally retarded?” Lane asked.

  “Tsk tsk,” Carlos replied. “That is not a nice word.”

  “What word?” Lane asked.

  “Retarded,” Carlos said.

  “Don’t care,” Lane said. “Fix me a drink.”

  “What would you like?” Carlos asked.

  “I think I’m actually in the mood for gin,” Lane said. “Make it a triple, neat.”

  “Certainly,” Carlos said.
<
br />   Lane let go of Manny’s belly and the man moaned.

  “Hush,” Lane said as he climbed off the table and stretched.

  “Giving up?” Carlos asked as he handed Lane his drink.

  “Never really cared,” Lane said. “Just playing the part.” He sipped his drink and glanced at the doors. “You think he’ll go after Jessie?”

  “I think so,” Carlos said. “We’re locked in and I doubt Giraldi wants Ms. Holstein wandering around the ship.”

  “Are we locked in?” Lane asked.

  “I heard it lock,” Carlos said.

  “Either of us could pick it and get us out of here,” Lane said.

  “True, true,” Carlos agreed. “But good booze.”

  “Right,” Lane said and nodded. “Good booze.”

  “Let everyone else sort it all out?” Carlos suggested and raised his glass.

  “Let everyone else sort it all out,” Lane agreed and clinked his glass against Carlos’s. “Don’t need Giraldi calling his people to hurt our families, do we?”

  “We do not,” Carlos said then nodded at the stack of unopened decks of cards at the end of the bar. “You want to play a few hands of gin? Penny a point?”

  “I’d love to, mate,” Lane said. “Better than standing here and watching Agent Bartender slowly die.”

  33.

  “I thought you had them all in there?” Tony snarled into his radio. “You and Mikey were supposed to make sure they were secured before he left with Chip on that speedboat. Was I not clear on that?”

  “Yes, Mr. Giraldi, you were clear,” Joey replied over the radio as Ben stepped onto the bridge.

  Tony gestured with his pistol for Ben to take a seat on the long leather bench against the back wall. Ben didn’t even hesitate. He made his way to the bench and sat down, his hands on his thighs in plain sight.

  “Are the doors locked?” Tony asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Joey responded. “I have a trip charge I can put outside them, if you want.”

  “Explosives? That would not be wise,” Captain Staggs said.

  “Not powerful enough to put a hole in your boat, Cap,” Tony said then returned his attention to the radio. “Forget the charge and go find Ms. Holstein. I want her and the blogger’s girlfriend locked up in that game room ASAP. Either of them give you any trouble and you have my permission to do whatever you need to convince them.”