Devlin had stripped to his underwear. He dove into the pool headfirst. I put the gun on the deck. Stripped to my skivvies. Dove in headfirst to meet him.
I could see him swimming straight at me. I was surprised he could make it this far on one breath. His last breath.
I powered towards him. We were on a collision course. At two yards I extended both arms forward to grab him. He reached forward with his left hand to meet mine. His right hand had been resting on top of his underwear. It came around from the right in a wild manner. Nothing like a swim stroke. His right hand swung at the side of my lungs. In it was a fixed blade knife.
I moved back just in time. He swung through and missed widely. The weight of the water around us allowing me the extra time to avoid a puncture wound. On the follow through I locked his blade hand. Doing so I lost contact with his left hand. His left hand took control of the knife from his right. He jabbed the knife down towards my back and head. I pushed up with my right forearm just in time to stop the jab a few inches into its motion. He hadn’t generated enough force to cause much damage, but my right forearm had been cut as he pulled the knife back. He was a shark and he smelled blood.
I remembered back to that day in Colombia. That Caiman. I thought how Smith always watched Animal Planet. More than even Shark Week, he loved Croc Week. I had an idea.
I bear hugged Devlin at head level. His arms extended. I wrapped my legs around his upper body. And then I began to roll. I rolled sideways and squeezed with my legs. Squeezed his chest as hard as I could. I rolled him and squeezed the air out of his chest with my legs. It would be a battle to see who could hold their breath the longest. And who would pass out first from the barrel rolls.
I rolled, and rolled, and rolled. Five times. The battle ended in a tie. I was out of air. I had to breach. I kept my hold on Devlin’s upper body and kicked with my feet. I breached the surface with a tremendous gasp for air. I breached with so much force I came out high enough that his head also breached. We both had one breath. And we were both back under. As we came back down our bodies separated. I couldn’t see if he had the knife or not. He darted towards the side of the pool. The wrong side. The side closest to the house. The side that had a high wall. Not the cliff side which had the infinity pool view. He was trying to cheat. To escape out the side. But the wrong side. Maybe he had more tricks in his pool. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let him win.
I knew it was easier to exit on the short ends. The water tapered from deep to shallow. On the sides you had to find a ladder or will your hands high enough to grab the side and then pull yourself up the high wall. I turned and swam towards the shallow end.
I was swimming as fast as I could. Each stroke moving gallons of water. Propelling me across the water’s surface and towards my Sig. As I got closer to the end I heard footsteps behind me on the surface. Devlin had made it up the side. He was going for the gun.
I got to the shallow side and ran up the ramp. I reached for the gun. Turned and fired in one motion just as Devlin came down on top of me. I had shot him through his left shoulder. Just above the heart.
He punched me with his right hand. The gun slid from my hand. He was on top. He banged my head on the tiles twice and released. He was going for the gun. In a daze I jumped up and chased him. He reached for the gun. I dove for his feet. Grabbed them and pulled. The gun slipped out of his grasp.
I let go of Devlin and darted two steps back to the gun. I picked it up and turned. Devlin was standing there with the knife in his hand. His arm straight up in the air ready to throw the knife like an ax into wood.
His right hand began its forward motion. I pointed the Sig and fired.
The life came out of Devlin’s hand. The knife flung widely like a pitcher who lost a grip on his fastball. Devlin stumbled back and fell over the edge of the infinity pool. It was over seventy feet from the pool to the shore below. The way down was filled with sharp rocks. Devlin missed every one and landed flat on his back on the shore. I looked over the edge. I saw a pool of blood forming next to his head. A wave came in, scooped him up and carried him out to sea. I counted to ten. Waited. His body was gone.
I turned back to the house. Bleeding, bruised, and battered. I got a lot more of a fight than I expected. I like to fight, but I hadn’t come to fight that day. I had a mission. I had come to finish Devlin for Smith. Mission accomplished. I walked out his front door and into the sunset. The next morning I returned to Coronado. Checked in from my liberty. Twelve days early and not a minute too soon.
I checked the newspapers, just to make sure. Checked them for two weeks. Nothing ever came up. I figured his body got sucked further out to see. Served him right, I though. Go back to the deep, dark abyss from which you came.
But that abyss was here. That abyss was now. I could hear him. It was him.
“Ahora,” the other end of the line said.
“Bueno,” The Turk replied. And returned the phone to the young girl.
He turned to me.
“He will see you now. But you must go to him.”
I nodded.
“But he is close. You will not have to go far.”
“Where will I have to go?”
“Just back to the harbor. Where your ferry comes in.”
“And who and what am I looking for?”
“There is a yacht parked only a few boats down from where the ferry docks. On the side you will see the name.” He paused.
“What is the name of that boat?”
“Child’s Play.”
I pulled my right elbow back like cocking a gun. I uncorked from the shoulder and the entire right side of my body pivoting on the follow through and drilling the Turk in the chest with a vicious punch. The Turk went down immediately. I knelt down and checked his pulse. He was still breathing. The punch hadn’t sent him to cardiac arrest but it was close. He was a disgusting excuse for a human. Now he was reduced to what he was. A drooling pile of garbage on the floor.
I pulled the curtain and went into the back room. There were three young girls. All dressed as servants.
“Everything is OK. I’m not going to hurt you.”
They seemed scared. I could only imagine. I didn’t want to.
“Is anyone else here?”
One little girl shook her head sideways to say, no.
“OK. Stay here for one second. I’ll be right back.”
They looked at me blankly.
I motioned the position of a sentry at the position of attention. Then I pointed to them. They imitated me. I gave them a thumbs up and pointed to the wall. They went and took the position against the wall. Perfect.
I walked to the entryway of the shop. The man who had always led me from the dock to the shop was facing away smoking a cigarette. His last. I grabbed him in a rear naked choke and pulled him inside the shop.
The man’s neck rest in the inside crack of my left elbow. My left forearm ran up the right side of his neck where my left hand intertwined with my right. My right forearm provided added leverage and locking. There was no way he was escaping.
I squeezed harder. His legs began to twitch and kick. Eventually he went lifeless. I dropped him on the couch. Grabbed a Turkish rug sitting nearby and draped it over his lifeless body.
I returned to the kitchen. The electric kettle the girls used to make the tea was sitting on the counter. I filled it full of water and hit the switch. Within two minutes the water was scalding hot. I dumped it in a deep pot. I repeated the process. Dumped the second kettle full in the same pot. The pot had two gallons of scalding hot water.
I took the pot into the main room. The Turk was still in a daze. I pulled off his belt and slid his pants and underwear down around his legs.
One of the rugs in the room had a rope intertwined for decoration. I pulled it out and wrapped it around The Turk’s neck. I went back to the kitchen and found a hand towel. I returned and jammed it into his mouth. I propped him against the couch and tied the rope to the water-heating pip
e that ran along the wall just behind the couch. I tied it in a hangman’s knot. I grabbed some more rope from a similar rug. I tied his hands back to the same pipe as his neck.
I pulled some more rope from the rug. I wrapped the rope around the couch and tied his left leg out. Spread eagle. I repeated the process with another rope. Tying his right leg open by wrapping the rope around the center table. The more he struggled, the tighter the knot around his neck would get. At the moment he wasn’t struggling. Still in a daze. Time for a wake up call.
I lifted him up by the mid section and dropped his groin into the pot. The towel muffled his attempts to scream. Transforming his pain into a weak whimper that would go unheard. His groin was turning red. Surely third degree burns were setting in by now. I contemplated finishing the job, but decided it would be more interesting to see if he hung himself in his squirms to free himself or even better yet we could use him to testify against Devlin and then he’d still serve a lifetime sentence or ten. Try explaining those burns in the prison bathroom.
I walked back outside.
“What the hell’s going on in there, Zamora?” Abbey was gritting her teeth to keep from shouting. “I could hear the noise from your wire.”
“No time now. Guard is dead. The Turk is wishing he was. There are three girls in the back. Standing against the wall. They need rescued. Cover their eyes on the way out.”
“What did you do?”
“Made the world a little bit safer for a lot of women. The room is clear. You can go in.”
I started walking towards the port. Abbey called out.
“Where are you going?”
“To settle the score.”
“Zamora! Don’t. Wait for back—”
I didn’t turn back. Just kept going.
I saw Devlin’s boat sitting right where The Turk said it would. Child’s Play. What a monster.
I walked directly to the boat. There were two huge bodyguards. Even bigger than me. They must have been at least six foot seven. It didn’t matter. In this moment I was ten feet tall and bulletproof.
I walked right up to the first guard. Flattened my right hand and turned my wrist over so my palm was facing up.
“No one is allowed to—”
The outside of my right hand hit his jugular with so much force his mouth opened and his eyes rolled back in his head. His knees buckled and hit the concrete first. His face followed as he forward face-planted into the concrete past his knees. He was out. Flat on his stomach.
I stepped right over the body and threw a roundhouse kick with my right foot to the side of second guard’s temple. His left forearm slid up and blocked the kick. I could feel and hear his forearm shatter. He twisted his left arm back down and around and locked my right leg under his arm. He pulled his right fist back cocking the hammer for a blow to my groin.
I pushed off with my left foot. Used the leverage of his lock on my right leg and got my mid section all the way to his midsection on the push off and up. Wrapped my left leg around his back. I cupped both hands and brought them together as hard as I could with his head in the middle.
They landed perfectly over the top of each ear. His grip immediately released as he reached to grab at his ears. I could see blood coming down the side of his neck. I dropped my right foot back. Rocked my weight back and then forward delivered a knee right to the groin. He was down. I reached down and put both hands to his neck and squeezed. I could see his arm twitching. His legs kicked widely. I squeezed harder. His mouth opened. I could see his tongue coming out. He was trying to pull at my wrists. He gave up and went for my eyes. A smart move, but too late. I squeezed harder. I leaned in for leverage. Pushed his head forward. Changed my grip to a rear naked choke and squeezed even harder. I felt the life go out of his body. I jumped up and returned to the first guard.
He was still dazed. I came in from behind him. Put my right hand under his chin. Put my left hand flat against the side of his head. I pivoted his chin hard to the right and then with my left hand changed the torque and smashed his head downward to the left. His neck was broken. Two more down.
Two ladies seven yards behind me on the dock were screaming and pointing. I saw two young girls trying to take a selfie with me in the background. I was disgusted, but more concerned about my face being on TV.
I boarded the boat and unhitched the back mooring line. Ran towards the bridge. Two women exited the side head. I almost ran right into them. I could see cocaine on the tip of their noses. The bikinis they were wearing barely counted as swimwear.
“Where’s Devlin?”
They were giggling and barely paying attention. Oblivious to what had just happened. Oblivious to most things probably.
I grabbed one girl by the shoulders. Looked her right in the eye.
“Where is Devlin?”
She gave me a mean look. Tried to shake her way out of my grasp a bit. Gave up.
“Below,” she said.
I let her go. She spat in my face. I contemplated slapping her, but realized she was almost certainly just another victim. Willing or not I didn’t know. She probably thought I was just another guy here to have some cheap thrills with her. I’d let the authorities deal with her later.
After learning the ropes on Hassan’s boat via my quick crash course I had enough confidence to give Devlin’s yacht a shot. I pulled up the anchor and led the boat from the harbor. It was easy. There was nothing in my path but open sea. I pointed it straight forward and hit the autopilot. The moment I hit the button I got a hit of my own. I felt an open palm crash down on my left shoulder and another on my right kidney. I went down to a knee only to feel a kick to the spine. I tasted blood in my mouth. I rolled over onto my back and looked up. Devlin.
He looked down and laughed.
“If you wanted to work for me you could have just filled out an application. It’s a lot easier.”
I coughed. I could see my blood on the deck.
“I’m not here to work for you, Devlin. I’m here to kill you.”
“Yes, I can clearly see that. I can see you’re doing a great job of it too.”
“Just getting warmed up.”
“Well, please let me know when you’re ready seeing that you couldn’t finish the job last time when you had every conceivable advantage. I want to make sure you’re fully prepared again. No excuses this time.”
Devlin wasn’t going to let me up. I needed to turn this into a street fight. And most street fights end up on the ground.
I kicked upward with my left foot. Caught Devlin square in the testicles. Right where he deserved to feel the most pain. He bent over. Now he was half the size as before, but with a better center of gravity. It would take more force to bring him down.
I braced my hands behind me and locked my elbows. I laid the outside of my left foot on the ground and swept across a plane parallel to the deck with my right. The blow caught Devlin’s outside left foot bringing him to the deck.
I was still on my back. I leaned forward and wrapped him in a reverse headlock. Let my weight fall backwards driving his skull into the deck.
He followed through on the momentum and went head over heals. The momentum took his neck up and out of my grasp.
We were both on our backs. Both facing away. Like fighters we quickly jumped to our feet. Spun one hundred eighty degrees and faced each other in a crouched ready position.
Devlin came first with a spinning elbow. I blocked it, but took some of the glancing blow off the side of my ribs. I used his momentum to push him away. Back to square one.
He came at me again with a fist. At the last second he pivoted on his outside heel and threw a high kick. I blocked it and knocked him down.
Immediately I was on top of him. Punching at his face repeatedly. He had his guard up. The blows were hard, but they were landing on his forearms. Not effective.
I cocked back and took a shot at his chest. Hoping to send his heart into cardiac arrest. He saw the transition from head to chest and blocked it
with his elbow. My fist landing on the hard wood paneled deck on the follow through. I could feel my ring finger break.
With my weight forward and sideways, Devlin took the offensive. He rolled up and over on one hip and took the top position. He had me pinned like a kid. His weight on top of mine. Just sitting on my hips. His turn to wail on me.
SEAL's Justice: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense Novel Page 18
