by Blake Banner
He gave his head small shakes. “No… You are going to kill me now?”
“Not today. I am going to give you a chance. An opportunity. Can you sail this yacht on your own?”
“With motor, not sail. And two girls downstair can help.”
“OK, good. Now I am going to go and kill Gregor and his men. I want you to think that today, God has spared your life. God has let you live instead of me killing you. You have a chance, an opportunity, to start again. Take this yacht, go somewhere, and do something useful with your life. OK? Because next time I see you, if you are still a gangster, I will kill you.”
He stared at me with round, drunken eyes. The jab caught him right on the tip of his slack jaw. His legs turned to spaghetti and he went down. I did a tour of the boat and found a dozen handguns, six assault rifles and enough ammunition to start a small war. I selected an AK-47 because they are so reliable. There was also a nice little Galil which I slung over my shoulder for backup. It’s small and light, but has little recoil, so it’s accurate and surprisingly punchy.
I stuck two Glock 17s in my belt and went out to lower the dinghy into the water, then drew it around to the retractable ladder and secured it there. Finally, I went back to where Vlad was lying on the floor of the bar. I stood for fifteen seconds, staring down at him. The smart thing to do would be to kill him. If I didn’t, when he came around he could alert Gregor, and that could cost me and Emily our lives.
Instead I went forward, started the engine and put her on a heading northeast, toward Florida. Then I clambered down the ladder, jumped into the dinghy, and as the yacht slowly disappeared into the darkness, I fired up the engine, made a sharp turn and opened the throttle, speeding toward the small light I could still see flickering in the darkness ahead of me.
The water was flat, still and black, and I skipped over it fast, enjoying the cool wind on my bruised face. I figured I was doing about 20 MPH, which should get me where I was going in about four or five minutes at most. I had no idea what I was going to find there, or how I was going to deal with it. I was going to have to make it up as I went along. At least, for the moment, I had the element of surprise on my side.
After three minutes or so, I began to see the pale glow of the white sand in the moonlight and, anchored just off shore, near a short wooden pier, was a small de Havilland Otter. I reduced the speed of the dinghy and, when I was a couple of hundred yards from the beach, I killed the engine and started paddling. Now I could see that the glimmering light of the house was in fact two lighted windows, approximately thirty feet apart. The house looked like a modern, cubed structure on several levels, set back among palm trees and some kind of undergrowth.
I paddled to the pier and tied the dinghy on the far side, where it was out of sight. Then, hitching the two assault rifles over my shoulder, I sprinted across the sand for the cover of the trees and bushes thirty feet away. In among the ferns and the palms, I dropped to the ground and lay waiting and listening. There was nothing but the lap and sigh of the waves, the soft breeze among the leaves and a distant bird that might have been an owl. I got to my feet and peered along the long, luminous ribbon of sand. I figured the house was forty or fifty paces away. I could see the glow from the windows on the sand, but from where I was, the structure itself was not visible.
I began to walk, staying close to the fringe of undergrowth, where I could take cover if I needed to, but also where it was easier to walk. Slowly, the shape of the house began to emerge. It seemed to be three large, concrete cubes balanced one on top of another at odd angles, like a toddler’s bricks, giving the impression that if you sneezed, they would all topple down.
Now that I was closer, I could see that the bottom cube, which was the size of a large bungalow, was set among rolling green lawns within a fence of evergreen hedges. The second cube gave the impression of being precariously balanced on the first, and was tall and narrow, with long windows set up one side. Closer inspection suggested it was a stairwell and elevator shaft.
Set across the top of this cube, like a ‘T’ section, was the third cube, balanced some thirty feet above the ground, with the sea-facing wall taken up almost entirely by plate glass windows. But these were not illuminated now. The light was coming from two windows set in the bottom cube.
I sprinted to the hedge, dropped on my belly and listened. Now I could hear the soft murmur of voices. In fact, it seemed to be just one voice, deep and slow, and two got you twenty it was Gregor.
I found the gate and went in. Now I could see on the far side of the lawn there was a grove of palm trees, and to the left of them, half-surrounded by them, was a large, irregularly shaped swimming pool. As prisons went, it wasn’t bad.
One last sprint took me to the cover of the palm trees. There I dropped to my belly and crawled to within seven feet of the pool. From there, I could see a floodlit patio at the back of the house. Gregor was there, sitting in a white, wrought iron chair beside a round table with a closed parasol stuck in the center. There was a glass beside his elbow and he was talking to somebody in a monotonous, lecturing tone. I crawled a little farther around the pool and saw who he was lecturing. Emily was sitting in another white, wrought iron chair, listening to him. She had one leg crossed over the other, and there was what looked like a gin and tonic sitting in front of her.
Some distance behind Gregor were two guys dressed in black with black woolen hats, holding assault rifles. Presumably, that left four guys inside the house: the pilot of the plane, the pilot of the dinghy, and the two men who guarded Emily. I tried to listen to what Gregor was saying, but his voice was still indistinct.
I inched closer until I was lying in the shadow of the outermost palm tree. The base was thick, a good four feet across, and provided me sufficient cover so long as nobody came to the pool. I could just see Emily’s chair past the corner of the house, her profile, and her havaiana dancing nervously on her foot.
I lay very still and listened. Gregor’s low rumble came to me.
“We are go in circles. Soon my patience is end. You make deal with me, Emily. You offer me this thing. I give you money. Lots of money. Now suddenly, this men is appear. Give me back money, kill my men, say no deal, we have now auction. He call the CIA… This is not acceptable way to do business. You cannot play this kind of game with me, Emily. It is very dangerous for you. You should not listen to this men.”
“I am sorry, Gregor. I am as much a victim as you are. You can’t hold me responsible for what Lacklan Walker has done. The man was recommended to me, but he is out of his mind. He is out of control…”
He grunted. “Why you send him to make exchange? Why you not come?”
“Let’s not be naïve, Gregor. I needed insurance. What was to stop you killing me and keeping the money and the NPP?”
He shrugged, spread his hands and made a long, ‘Pffff…!’ noise. “Why for? Is only few millions. I don’t know, Emily. I think there is more. How you know him?”
She seemed to hesitate. Her havaiana danced furiously for a moment. “He is a friend of a friend.”
“Friend of your father? He tell me that man is your father.”
She looked up sharply. “No. Just a friend.”
“He say…”
“I know what he said! It was a sob story. I wanted his sympathy, so I told him a story about finding my long lost father. It is none of your concern.”
Gregor was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Who is your friend, father, advisor…?”
“I told you, it is none of your concern.”
He seemed not to hear her. “How somebody like you comes to Freeport? Why you are there, with Jerry…”
“Can we stay on task, please? Do you want the damn NPP or not?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. They just sat staring at each other. Then Gregor said, “I have kill Jerry.”
Her foot froze.
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes. I torture him, to make him call you. I think he was in
love with you. But after that, he is big liability to me. I have to kill. Where is it?”
She looked up at the sky and groaned. “For the thousandth time, Gregor! As long as you have me imprisoned here, you will not get the box. And every day you have me locked up here, the price goes up. I will not cooperate as your prisoner.”
He sighed noisily through his nose. “I think you don’t have box. I think Walker has box. I am torturing him now. He will talk.”
She laughed. “He won’t, because he doesn’t know where it is. The thing with torture, Gregor, is that the victim will always tell you what you want to hear. But whatever he tells you, I know where it is, and he doesn’t.” She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “You have him on the yacht, here, now?”
“Mm-hm…”
“And he says he has organized an auction?”
He shrugged. “Is what he says. CIA people are there. I don’t see nobody else. Not yet. I cannot let you sell to them. You must sell to me.”
“Then you better start treating me with a little more respect, Gregor. I told you, as long as I am your prisoner, we cannot do business.” She paused then and frowned at her foot. “Why don’t you bring him ashore, we can talk to him together.”
“For what?”
“So that I can prove to you that he hasn’t got it. There is only one way that this thing will play out, Gregor. You take me back to Houston, you set me free, you compensate me for this abduction, and then we make the deal.”
He gave a small, humorless bark and shook his head. “So that you can trade with all world and his mother? No. There is other way. I call my boys. We hold you down on table and we start to remove your fingers.”
“Then you will never get it!”
“Wrong. I am tired of playing game. You have it or Walker have it. Tonight, one of you tell me where it is.”
Her foot stopped dancing and she sat up straight. “Listen to me! I sent it to my attorney in Washington! If he doesn’t hear from me by Friday…”
Gregor was laughing loud. “I hear same story from Walker. But he tell it better than you! Him, I almost believe. Enough of bullshit.” He called in through the open French door and said something in Russian. Four guys trooped out. Emily was on her feet talking incoherently, repeating over and over, “No! Stop! Listen! Listen to me!” The guys had her by her arms and Gregor stood and swept the glasses off the table. They shattered on the floor and the four men lifted Emily bodily and lay her on the table. By now she was screaming. Her voice was high and shrill. Gregor said something and one of the boys went inside. I figured he was going for some pliers or a knife.
I had the Galil in my hands. It had less recoil than the AK-47 and at this distance, it would be more accurate. I needed a nice, clean shot. I unfolded the stock, wedged it against my shoulder and lined up the guy holding Emily’s right arm. He had his back to me and was half leaning over her. I breathed out, held and gently squeezed the trigger. It gave a single thud and the front of his head exploded and showered all over Emily.
Everyone stood staring. Emily was hysterical, screaming. The guy sank to his knees and keeled over. I spoke loudly.
“Gregor, if you twitch, I will blow your head off. So just nobody move, everybody stay very calm and don’t do anything stupid.”
Emily rolled off the table and fell onto the ground. She was still screaming in a kind of spasmodic hysteria, with her face, covered in blood and gore, screwed up and her hands up by her shoulders. Everybody watched her stand, run across the lawn toward the pool and jump in. Then she bobbed up and down, giving little screams interspersed with bubbles as she pulled off her clothes and rinsed her face and hair.
I heard a muttered voice and saw one of the two guards who were carrying assault rifles swing his weapon gently around in my direction. He obviously planned to spray the area and try to take me out. The Galil thudded again and the back of his head erupted in a pink plume.
“I said, nobody do anything stupid. Now, everybody put down your weapons or I start spraying, and I swear I’ll cut you in half, Gregor.”
He raised his hands and said something to his four remaining men. Three of them pulled handguns from their belts and threw them on the lawn. The fourth tossed down his rifle, and then followed up with a hand gun. I stood, switched to the AK-47, and stepped out from behind the palm tree.
Twelve
His eyes narrowed but his mouth sagged. He said: “I not understand…”
I walked toward him, keeping the AK-47 trained on his belly. “It’s simple, Gregor. I killed everybody on your yacht, and I have set it on a course toward Florida. The Coast Guard should find it in the next couple of hours.”
“…How…?”
“A creative mix of kerosene and whiskey. Now tell your boys to lie face down with their hands on their heads.”
He frowned a moment longer, licked his lips and turned and spoke to his boys in Russian. I guess he told them to lie down with their hands on their heads, because that’s what they did. Behind me, I heard the slosh of water, followed by the pad of bare, wet feet, and a moment later, Emily appeared, soaked and dripping, in her bra and panties. She stared at me for a moment with a ‘what is wrong with you?’ face, then went into the house, trailing water behind her.
I said to Gregor: “Sit down.” He sat gingerly, like he thought something had happened to reality and he had to be extra careful. When he was sitting, I said, “I’m thinking about having one of your boys cut your fingers off.”
He looked startled. “What for?”
“I think you need a lesson in empathy.”
“What is?”
One of his boys lying face down on the grass lifted his head. He had short hair, a goatee and large, round eyes. He said something that sounded like, “Soperezhivaniye…”
Gregor turned in his seat to look at him. “Soperezhivaniye?”
“Da, Soperezhivaniye… sostradaniye…” He pulled the corners of his mouth down and moved his head from side to side, then said more emphatically, “Soperezhivaniye…”
Gregor shrugged. “Spasibo, Yuri.” He turned back to me and shook his head. “I think is no necessary, empathy. In our work…”
I sighed and reminded myself not to try and be funny with Russians. Emily came out in a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater. I pointed to her chair. “Sit down, Emily.”
She sat and said, “This is not what it looks like.”
“Really?” I smiled. “How many divorces do you think have been kicked off with that phrase? Guy gets home early from work, finds his wife naked in bed with another man. ‘This is not what it looks like, honey. This is Dr. Brown, he was just testing my core body temperature.’” She didn’t answer, so I asked, “What do you think it looks like, Emily? Because I’m still trying to work it out. I’d like somebody to explain.”
Gregor shrugged his big shoulders again. To him, everything was simple. “What to explain? One of you has box. I must have box. I don’t understand why you are complicating. Give me box, I give you money. Who has box?”
I pulled a pack of Camels from my pocket, shook one free and poked it in my mouth. I lit up and inhaled deep. As I blew out the smoke, I looked at Emily. “Yeah, Emily, who has the box?”
She didn’t answer. She slipped her hands between her knees and looked down at her boots. I looked back at Gregor.
“Here’s the problem, Gregor. Whoever hasn’t got it dies, right? That’s why you had Emily shacked up in a luxury villa and me cuffed to a pipe, because you thought the odds were on Emily having it.”
“Torture one, be nice to other. Sometimes it is working.”
“Yeah, only this time, you got it the wrong way around. You should have been nice to me.”
“Perhaps this is true.”
“Now, here’s what happens next. I ask both of you questions, you answer. If you lie, I’ll know and I’ll start removing digits.”
Emily looked up in alarm. “From me too?”
I narrowed my eyes at her through the s
moke from my cigarette. “So don’t lie. It’s not so difficult. You should try it sometimes. Eventually you might get the hang of it.”
Gregor shook his head. “I no lie to you never. I am always tell you truth. People lie when scared. I never scared. So I always tell truth.”
“Yeah, especially when you drugged my whiskey.”
Yuri began burbling in Russian. Gregor turned to listen to him and started nodding, “Da, da…”
“What?”
“He say is your fault. You come to us with aggression, hitting people, insulting. You started it…”
Yuri managed to shrug with his hands still on the back of his head. “Chto on ozhidal!”
Gregor spread his hands. “Amerikantsy! Tipichnyy!”
“Mudak!”
There was some stifled laughter. I said, “Are we done?”
“He says you are shit head.”
“That’s nice. Now, tell me how you and Emily got acquainted.”
I watched Emily while he spoke. She was keeping her eyes fixed on her knees, where she had her hands clasped again. Gregor seemed to be amused. “Jerry was come and make introduction to us. He say he has something valuable maybe we want to buy. I tell him I am think about, then I make Peter follow him. I see he is meet discreetly sometime with pretty girl. So I am send Peter to bring girl to me. My instinct is right. Emily is boss and Jerry is just…” He turned to Yuri, “…lakey?”
“Da, ‘lackey.’”
“Lackey? Tak zhe?”
“L-A-C-K-E-Y.”
“Hah! Tak zhe! Is the same, lackey. In Russian lakey. Only ‘c’ is different.”
“What is this, Beavis and Butt-head?”
“No, his English is good. I ask him.”
“So you realized Emily was in charge. What else?”
“So we make deal. She is happy. Everybody happy. Then you come…”
“Mudak…”
“Can it, Yuri.”
