They sat in the cockpit, watching the shadows of the trade wind cumulus clouds passing over the dense blanket of stars that seemed impossibly low in the sky. Blaine and Mindy had turned in for the night, but since Vengeance was hove to at sea, Liz and Marie were taking turns standing watch, one of them always on the alert for shipping traffic.
"No, not from my inquiries, not so far. But I think these two, they look familiar to me. I could not remember why at first. Now it comes to me. I have seen them before."
"On TV, perhaps?" Liz asked.
"No, in Beirut, I think. It has been a few years, but the more I look at them, the more familiar they are. Perhaps not Beirut, but somewhere in that part of the world, during some trouble. This I remember, even if not the exact place."
Liz looked alarmed. "Trouble? Were they involved? They don't seem the type."
"No, they do not. I cannot say if they were involved, but they were staying there on purpose."
"What do you mean, on purpose, Marie?"
"When I am in these places like Beirut, I am there on purpose, for some mission. Sometimes, people are in these places by accident, because something goes wrong with their plans. They are there by fate, not by choice."
"You mean Blaine and Mindy were in this place by choice?"
"Perhaps not in the trouble; it was happening in the place. But they were in the place to do something."
"How do you know that?"
"They had opportunities to escape, but they stayed. They had some purpose, but I do not know what it was."
"Did you meet them? Personally?"
"No. But I saw them often. There were not many westerners there, wherever it was. Maybe not Beirut; Tripoli, perhaps?"
"Will you ask them, now that you remember?"
"No, I do not think so. Not until I know more. It is interesting to watch them for now, yes?"
"Yes, I see. Do you think they might recognize you?"
"Oh, no. I do not think so. I was not a westerner when I was there. I was one of the locals, maybe. Wherever it was. I have asked Clarence to dig more deeply into these two."
"Would he remember where you might have seen them?"
"No, I think this was when I was not yet working for him. Maybe I was working for Israel; I am not sure just yet. It will come to me soon. Talking about it stirs the memory."
"Do you think they're a danger to us?"
"I cannot say. They do not seem to be. Perhaps they, too, are watching Danilov."
"Could you be working for the same people?"
"No. I would know this. But it is possible they work for someone who has similar goals. I must know, either way, before I move against Danilov."
"Do you think your client will want you to move against him?"
"Almost certainly. We must see the missiles first; but it is only a formality, I think. To destroy the yacht if the missiles were not aboard would tell them too much about what we know. But we are sure the missiles must be there; we have not found them anywhere else. It is the last possible place."
Marie paused, thinking, and Liz let the silence hang. After a couple of minutes, Marie spoke.
"I think I should rest for a while, now. In a few hours, I must take the dinghy and try to make contact with Dani. You are okay to stand watch? I could make you coffee before I go."
"I'm fine, thanks. Get some rest."
****
Dressed in black jeans and a lightweight, long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt, Dani opened the door of her stateroom a crack and peered out into the corridor. It was about three a.m. After she had gotten rid of Strong, she had taken a turn around the deck before going to sleep. Before she'd dropped off, she had decided that before she went looking for the missiles, she would try to find Rosa Delgado.
Before Strong left, she'd probed him a bit more on the topic of the "hostesses," learning that the women were effectively confined to a corridor that accessed the swimming pool. Strong, relaxed after several glasses of wine with dinner, had likened the setup to a harem. Though he didn't know, he suspected that Danilov entertained himself as well as his guests with the women. He confessed that on his first meeting with Danilov, the man had offered him his choice of girls. Dani smiled at the recollection of his story of how he had declined; she wondered if it were true.
Led by her subtle questions, Strong had revealed that there were only two areas of the ship that were off limits. One was the harem; the other was a hold under the large expanse of the foredeck. Danilov had told Strong he used it for transporting the occasional classic car that he happened to acquire in his travels, but that it was empty now, and somewhat dangerous because of the large, open space with no handholds and slippery decking.
After Strong had left her, Dani had strolled across the expanse of the foredeck, ostensibly stargazing, explaining to the crewman she encountered that she needed to stretch her legs before going to sleep. The bored-looking man had nodded and shrugged. Dani suspected based on his unintelligible, muttered response that he didn't speak much English. She had noted, though that there was a large, rectangular area of the decking that was bordered with a flexible weather seal of heavy neoprene. From what Marie had told her earlier, she was sure that the missiles were under her feet; The rectangle matched the dimensions of the housing Marie had described.
Before she risked exploring the hold below the foredeck, she had resolved to poke around the area Strong called Danilov's harem. It seemed to her the perfect place to hide a female prisoner. If she didn't find Rosa there, there was a chance that one of the women might have seen her at some point. Rosa, if Dani could find her, might have already scouted the missiles, in which case Dani planned to find a way to evacuate the women and Rosa as soon as she could. With the innocents out of the way, she would tell Marie to take whatever action her client deemed appropriate.
Seeing no movement in the corridor, she opened the door a bit farther. Before she stepped outside her stateroom, she felt a draft of warm, moist air coming over her shoulder. She closed the door and spun on her heel, her back to the door, her eyes probing the shadows. The draperies over the sliding door onto her balcony shifted in a slight breeze from the open sliding door. She froze; she had closed the sliding door just moments before.
Chapter 26
"Can't sleep?" Liz asked, as Mindy appeared at the top of the companionway ladder an hour after Marie had gone below.
"I was doing okay, but something woke me up. I was so sound asleep that I thought it was morning, until I looked at my watch. Okay if I join you?"
"Sure," Liz said. "Company's always welcome on night watches."
"Have you been up here all night? You must be exhausted," Mindy said.
"No," Liz glanced at the time display on the chart plotter above the helm. "I've been on watch about an hour. Marie took the first watch. I just relieved her."
"Wow!" Mindy said. "I've never seen stars like this. They're so close together."
"It gets even better, farther out to sea. If you get far enough from land, there's no light pollution."
"It's worth waking up for," Mindy said. "You say Marie went to bed about an hour ago?"
"Give or take a bit, yes. Did we wake you?"
Mindy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, but I didn't notice anything. Sometimes, I just realize I'm lying there awake, thinking. Most of the time, I drift off after a while, but not tonight. I guess the motion of the boat way out here is unfamiliar, or something."
"Are you feeling queasy?" Liz asked. "We have some medication."
"No, not at all. It's just that when we were back in Nonesuch Bay, it was so still and quiet. The motion's not unpleasant now, just different, and the boat makes more noise out here."
"She does," Liz agreed. "All that creaking is from the joinery. You wouldn't think it, as massive as Vengeance seems, but her hull flexes as she rolls through the swell, and that puts stress on the cabinetwork. You get used to it when you've lived aboard as long as Dani and I have. It's like a lullaby, unless the rhythm changes.
That'll wake me every time."
"That makes sense," Mindy said. She was silent for a few seconds, and then she said, "Marie's an interesting person."
Liz felt a prickly sensation on the back of her neck at the change of subject. "How so?"
"The pattern of her speech, for one thing. I can't quite place it. Her accent sounds sort of French, but not quite. What's her native tongue?"
"I don't know," Liz said. "It's never come up. Down here in the islands, we're used to strange speech patterns. There've been so many different influences over the last 300-odd years that nobody thinks much about it."
"Dani's French, right?"
"When it suits her," Liz said, more comfortable talking about Dani.
"But nobody would know it from her English. She sounds American," Mindy said.
"She grew up mostly in the States," Liz said. "At least for schooling. But she speaks French like a native, as well."
"Because her father's from Martinique?"
"I'm not sure that's it. A lot of the people in Martinique speak Creole French."
"And you're British, right?"
"No, actually I'm Belgian."
"But you have a British accent."
"That's true, but my native language is French. I was educated in the U.K., and I've been bilingual in English and French from early childhood."
"You'd know what I mean, then. Blaine and I are sure Marie's not a native English speaker, and her accent's not quite French either, do you think?"
"To me, accents are much more of a continuum, Mindy. A lot of people who consider themselves native English speakers have accents that are neither British nor American — spend a little time talking with some of the East Indians who've lived here in the islands for generations. A lot of them only speak English, but it sounds very different. French is the same way; with those two languages, I know. I suspect that you'd find the same with other languages. Why are you so curious about where Marie's from?"
Mindy shrugged. "Blaine and I are fascinated by speech patterns; I guess it's part of our adventure travel thing. It's not just language; cultural differences intrigue both of us. The rhythm of Marie's speech is vaguely familiar, but neither of us could pin it down. We'll have to ask her about it, I guess. You don't think she'd be offended, do you?"
"Marie? She's pretty thick-skinned. I doubt if your curiosity would bother her."
"Good. I'll ask her sometime, then." Mindy yawned. "Think I'll try that sleeping thing again."
"I could make you a cup of herbal tea, if you'd like," Liz said. "Sometimes that helps me drop off when my thoughts are racing."
Mindy smiled. "Thanks, Liz. But I think I'm ready for another few hours now. Guess I just needed some company to quiet my mind."
****
Having felt the draft of warm air as she was about to step out into the corridor, Dani was certain that someone had entered her stateroom from the balcony. As the corridor door clicked shut under her hand, she shifted her position to her right, her back to the bulkhead beside the door. She kept her eyes moving, making the most of her vision in the dim light. She saw a smooth movement in the dark corner close to the sliding door and dropped into a crouch, rushing the corner, arms up, prepared to strike at the intruder that she couldn't see.
Halfway across the stateroom, she felt someone's foot hook her right ankle at the same time she was pushed from behind. She fell forward, prepared to tuck and roll, but her assailant followed her down. Breaking her fall with her arms, Dani found herself pinned beneath her attacker, who immediately cupped a hand over her mouth while a forearm pressed against the back of her neck.
"Please," a woman whispered into her ear. "I will not hurt you; just please don't cry out. I need your help, okay?"
Dani nodded as best she could with her head locked in the other woman's grasp. She was released immediately, and the woman rolled off her back.
"Thank you," the still unseen woman said, her tone just above a whisper. "Whisper; the rooms are usually bugged."
"Who are you?" Dani whispered.
"My name is Rosa. I'm being held against my will by Danilov. You are my only hope; I must get a message to someone, quickly."
"Rosa Delgado?" Dani said.
"Who are you?" There was panic in the woman's voice now, although she still whispered.
"My name is Dani Berger; the woman from Marseilles told me about you. You are Rosa Delgado, aren't you?"
"What woman from Marseilles?"
"Catherine Demars," Dani said, remembering the name from Marie's briefing the day before.
The woman sighed. "Yes, I am Rosa Delgado."
"Prove it," Dani said.
"If I am not, then you have already betrayed yourself. You must trust me."
"Or I could kill you," Dani said. "Now convince me that you are Rosa and not some plant from Danilov. I don't have all night."
"I found the missiles," the woman whispered.
"Not good enough."
"You have a flashlight?" the woman whispered.
"Yes."
"May we go onto the balcony? I will show you proof, but they may have cameras in the room. We must keep it dark."
"After you," Dani said.
The woman crept to the sliding door and brushed the draperies aside, holding them for Dani.
"Give me the light," the woman whispered.
Dani handed her a small, LED flashlight, and the woman positioned it in front of her mouth, turning it on as she opened wide, facing Dani and pulling her left cheek aside with her free hand.
Dani fought a surge of nausea as she took in the carnage that had been the inside of the woman's mouth. The few teeth that remained were broken; some had been filed to expose the nerves. Her gums were swollen and bloody where other teeth had been torn out recently. "Enough," Dani whispered. "I believe you."
The woman switched off the light and handed it to Dani. "I think you would have killed me. Maybe I wish that you would, still."
"Did Danilov do that to you?"
The woman nodded her head. "He asked the questions. Baklanov and the woman, Angelika, they tortured me while he watched. And there is a man they call the doctor. He was there sometimes, to help question me."
"You are very brave."
"No. I told them everything I knew, but they didn't stop. The woman, she is the worst of them."
"How much did they get from you."
"I wasn't told much to begin with, so I think they didn't learn much. I was told to look for arms shipments, drugs, and evidence of human trafficking."
"Clever of whoever briefed you," Dani said, "to hide your mission that way."
"Yes. I found all those things, of course."
"But you told me you found the missiles. Why did you choose that to try to prove your identity?"
"You are still suspicious of me."
"Do you blame me after what they did to you?"
"No. No, I don't blame you. I chose to tell you about the missiles because I thought they were probably the real reason I was sent in."
"How do you know that I'm not a plant from Danilov?" Dani asked.
"You used the name, Catherine Demars."
"So? You said you told them everything. Danilov could have given me that."
"No," the woman said, "because she is not the woman in Marseilles. She is my brother's wife, and this, they did not ask me. I told them the name of the woman in Marseilles."
"Why did you decide to come to me?"
"What do I have to lose? I heard them talking about you. You are wanting to be a movie star. You are not one of them, but I had no idea that you were sent by the people who sent me. I was desperate."
"What message did you plan to give me?"
"A telephone number to call, and that Danilov has six missiles and ten women captives. Eleven if you count me."
"What about drugs? Did you not find any?"
"Not in any large quantity; only what people use personally. Did they send you to help me? They told me they could not
do that."
"It was a lucky accident. We don't have time to talk about that now. Let's talk about getting you and the others out of here."
"The others?"
"The other women who are captives."
The woman studied Dani in the dim light for a moment. "Who are you, really? I do not think they would care about the other women, the people who sent me."
"Only because they didn't know, Rosa. How many are there? Ten, you said?"
"Ten, but they are drugged; they do not know what is happening."
"And why are you not dead, if they're through questioning you?"
"You are still testing me."
"Yes. Answer me."
"They only damaged my teeth; they did no damage that would make me ugly. They have done cosmetic surgery on me, like the others — breast implants, in my case, and some changes to my face. This one they call the doctor, I think he is a real doctor. A plastic surgeon, perhaps. Anyway, they know someone, a woman they call Veronica, who is going to buy us all and sell us to some wealthy man for his amusement."
"Why have they not drugged you, then, like the others?"
"They think they have; I pretend to be drugged when I need to. They put the drugs in our food, so I avoid it."
"What do you eat, then?"
"I worked aboard as a chambermaid; I know the ship as well as any of the crew. I steal food."
"How are you able to come and go? Why don't they lock you up?"
"They did, at first. After they quit torturing me and decided to sell me to this Veronica, they put me in with the others. After the breast surgery, they thought I was drugged. The drugs — I don't know what they're using — but the women are like zombies, sheep. They have no initiative; they are not even locked in. There is a guard on the corridor where they keep us, but he's careless. The women will sit for hours and stare at the floor unless they are told to do something."
"How did you get to my balcony?"
"I go through a ventilation duct to the deck above our corridor. From there, I scale the side of the ship to go where I want."
"Okay, I'm beginning to believe you."
"Thank you; you are the only hope I have. Until now, I think I am dead, so I have nothing to lose. I will help you. Whatever I can do, you must tell me."
Bluewater Drone: The Eleventh Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 11) Page 19
