Cat exhaled grimly. Her eyes lost any trace of fear. Instead, she looked like she wanted to murder him. Ready to fight. But she kept her hands up.
“If you’re here to rob us, take what you want,” Alex said as a second man climbed over the railing, and then a third. “But you probably want to do it fast. Our captain’s dead and the mate’s wounded. We’ve been here a while and already called for help. Coast Guard should be here any time now.”
Blue Eyes and the others ignored him, spreading out across the deck, weapons ready, watching for anyone stupid enough to try to fight them. Several of them had a military bearing. Alex had done thirteen months in Iraq and he recognized the look. Soldiers and other military personnel had a certain aura about them that was difficult to hide. The way they stood, the way their eyes shifted warily, the way they moved. Three of these guys were clearly ex-military, though only Blue Eyes and one other, a tall black guy with a pink scar across his left eye, the eye itself a milky white, were American.
They all stood a bit straighter, weapons trained on Alex and Cat, as the fifth man came over the railing. The sixth had stayed in the pontoon boat, but the way they all reacted to his presence made it clear that this man was the leader. He carried a gun—a pistol, in a holster at his hip—but made no move to draw it. Instead, he glanced around the deck of the Kid Galahad as if he’d been invited aboard, and an enormous smile blossomed on his face.
“Now this is a beautiful craft,” he said, his accent detectable but not strong. Whatever his native tongue might be—Hawaiian or Tagalog or something else entirely—Alex couldn’t guess.
The man clapped his hands together and rubbed them as if he was eager to get to work. “I am not joking. I have been on board some of the prettiest boats on the water, and this one is up there.”
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his loose linen pants. His shoulder-length hair was thick and black, like a mane around his pockmarked face. His nose appeared to have been broken at least once, and yet his smile was infectious. If Alex hadn’t been terrified for himself and his wife and friends, he’d have smiled in return.
“What’d I hear him saying?” the man asked, turning his focus on Cat. “Your captain’s dead?”
Cat only stared. Blue Eyes had moved a bit closer to her and she was all too aware of the way he had been studying her. Alex saw it, too. A terrible calculus had begun in his head. He had always adored Cat, always respected her, but he had begun to wonder, just at the fringes of his thoughts, what he would be willing to do in order to protect her. How far would he go when his own wife was also on board? Would he die for Cat, or would he let hideous things happen to her if it meant he might be able to help Sami later? He needed his wife to live, needed Sami to get home to Tasha, no matter what else had to be sacrificed to make that happen.
Nausea burned in his gut. Shame burned in his heart.
“He said it,” Blue Eyes offered, nodding toward Alex, his gun still trained on Cat.
The pockmarked man’s smile broadened. He hung his head but didn’t look at Blue Eyes. “I didn’t ask you.”
No apology came, but Blue Eyes knew he’d fucked up. Alex could see it on his face. The man stood a bit straighter. His boss rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but there was something cruel and merciless lurking beneath that good-natured façade.
He turned to Alex. “You were saying? About your captain?”
“Sharks,” Alex managed. For the first time it really struck him that none of the men had moved. They had taken up positions on the deck as if they were guarding him and Cat, and watching over their boss just in case anyone came up from below. But they were in no hurry. Not yet.
“How the hell did that happen?” the pockmarked man asked.
“He fell into the water,” Cat said impatiently. “Right here. Right off the boat.”
“So you haven’t been ashore?” the man asked, turning his attention to her. Now his smile vanished. His eyes were small and black, flat and dead as a shark’s.
“The Coast Guard is coming,” Alex said.
“I have no doubt they are,” the man replied without turning. He stayed focused on Cat. “My name is Machii. I tell you that either because I don’t care if you tell the Coast Guard or because I don’t expect you to be alive to tell them. I’ll let you worry about which is true. What is your name?”
She told him.
Machii smiled again. “I like that,” he said, and turned to Alex. “And you?”
“Alex.”
“Good. Now we’re all friends.” He glanced at Blue Eyes. “Take Benjie below. Joriz can go up into the wheelhouse. Count heads. Gather up whatever’s shiny. I want everyone on the deck in ten minutes. Don’t kill anyone unless they don’t give you a choice.”
Blue Eyes hesitated, then gestured at Cat. “I’m gonna want time with her later.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Alex said quickly.
Machii held up a hand. “We don’t have time to waste here. The storm is coming. And if I believe this one”—he pointed at Alex—“then the Coast Guard could arrive anytime. We’re in and out.”
Blue Eyes sneered. “That was my plan.”
“Only if you want to bleed,” Cat said, her sneer as hard-edged as his own.
“Oh, honey, you have no idea,” Blue Eyes replied.
Machii stepped up to the man. He didn’t reach for his pistol or put his fists up, didn’t even try to physically menace him. He only moved nearer, making sure he had Blue Eyes’ attention.
“Why are you still on deck?”
Blue Eyes sniffed, shot one final glance at Cat, and then nodded to two other men—Benjie and Joriz, apparently—and led them toward the cockpit and the steps that led below. Alex held his breath, praying nobody down there would do anything stupid. Sami was below and he couldn’t prevent a zoetrope of horrors from flickering through his mind. After the way Blue Eyes had just laid out his intentions for Cat, it seemed clear rape and murder were very much on the menu of crimes for these men.
Alex glanced at Cat. Despite the ferocity she’d shown a moment before, he could see she was shaken. Of course she was. Alex had been shaken and it wasn’t his body being threatened. She’d fight for herself, and he’d certainly fight for her, but against these men he could summon little hope that they could be prevented from doing whatever their cruelty desired.
“Okay,” Machii said. “Just me and Damien now.” He nodded at the towering man who remained on deck with them. “We’re the nice ones.”
Machii and Damien both laughed.
“You’re taking a risk, staying here,” Alex said quietly. “The Coast Guard—”
Damien lifted his assault rifle and marched a few steps across the deck. The ship rocked on the waves, which were higher than before. The sky had begun to turn gray as the huge man pointed his weapon at Alex’s forehead.
“We’re the nice ones,” Damien said. “But I don’t think Machii asked you a question.”
Alex wanted to fight. He wanted to shout, to threaten, to try to drag the big bastard over the railing and feed him to the sharks. A little sliver of hysteria cut through him as he thought about how much simpler it had all been an hour ago, when all they’d had to worry about was being eaten by sharks.
Cat raised her hands again. “We’re good. We’re just going to stand here.”
Machii faced her. “How long ago did you really radio for help?”
“Late afternoon yesterday. They should’ve been here by now,” she said. No trace of a lie. No wince. She met his gaze evenly. “I was getting really fucking impatient before you showed up. Planning the email I was going to write to them to complain.”
Machii looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her, but then his gaze cut left and right and he glanced over his shoulder, as if he could feel the approach of a Coast Guard vessel. If one showed up, the situation would get very complicated, very fast.
“Imagine the apology they’ll owe you now,” Machii said.
Damien laughed softly, the sound of Jabba the Hutt stuck in a well.
Voices shouted below. Alex pressed his eyes closed, listening to the muffled sounds. A gunshot made him flinch. He could feel Cat staring at him but wouldn’t look at her. One gunshot, and one only. He wondered if the bullet had been for Sami.
“Who’s down there?” Damien rumbled. “Wife? Kids?”
Alex stabbed him with a glare, locked eyes with him and didn’t look away. A minute passed. Maybe two. Then people started filing out of the cockpit and he turned to look, silently praying to a god he believed to be fiction. Nalani came up first, then Patrick, followed by Sami and Luisa carrying Isko on a blanket. Blue Eyes followed them out, assault rifle trained on them, his gaze alight with amusement.
In his peripheral vision, Alex saw Damien nod.
“Wife,” he said. Maybe he’d seen the relief pass through Alex or maybe he was just assuming they were together because Sami was the only black woman on board. Either way, he knew. If Damien tried anything, if he had the same hungers that Blue Eyes had—if he tried to rape Sami—Alex would kill him. He’d spent his adult life learning that women didn’t want some knight on a white horse, but Sami couldn’t protect herself from this. Alex couldn’t protect her from it, either, but he’d die trying.
James and Nils came up, lugging Gabe on a blanket. Gabe winced with pain and he looked pale, sweat beading on his forehead, but he was alive and alert.
The last two smugglers followed them out of the cockpit. Benjie and Joriz. Alex didn’t know which of them was which, nor did he care. He just wanted them gone. The youngest one carried a pillowcase, and Alex didn’t have to ask to know what it held—jewelry and cash, maybe passports. They hadn’t grabbed any food or booze, not by the look of the bag. Harry’d had drugs on board, and if the smugglers had found them they were probably in the bag as well.
“Have a look at this,” Blue Eyes said. He turned to Sami and Luisa. With a deep frown he kicked the blanket carrying Isko. Luisa cried out and jumped back, letting go of her end of the blanket. Isko’s legs crashed to the deck. The man screamed in pain and rolled onto his side, clutching his rotting leg. Awake. Conscious.
Machii laughed in what seemed to be amazement. Expression full of wonder, he crouched beside the man.
“Isko,” he said before launching into something in his own language.
“You know him?” Cat asked.
“Of course he does,” Alex said. “They left him here.”
Still nodding in amazement, Machii rose to his feet. “We did.” He hooked a thumb toward the railing. “Although really we left him there. In the water. With our hungry friends.”
“Diyablo Pating,” Nalani said.
Machii noticed her for the first time. “Smart woman.” He walked toward her. “Or maybe not so smart. You understand what we call the Devil Sharks, so you know my language. You speak Isko’s language. So tell me, smart one…”
For the first time since he’d boarded, Machii drew his pistol. Everyone started to move and to speak, but the smugglers raised their weapons and took aim, and they all froze. Alex held his breath and he was sure that none of the others were breathing, either. The creaking of the boat and the splash of waves against the hull were the only sounds.
Machii reached up to touch Nalani’s face. She trembled, breath catching in her throat, as he gently twined his fingers in her hair.
“You don’t want to do this,” James said. He took half a step, hands coming up in supplication.
Blue Eyes leveled his weapon at James.
“The seconds tick by,” Machii told Nalani. “Your friend Alex says I don’t have much time, so I’m going to ask you once—”
“I hardly know any Tagalog,” Nalani said quickly. “I swear—”
Machii put his pistol against her left eye. “Your man is right. I don’t want to do horrible things to any of you. It’s an unhappy by-product of what we do. For instance … Isko has been with you for some amount of time. I don’t know how long. The dirty shit doesn’t speak much English. But I have to assume that you, smart one, understood whatever he said. And you’ve had radio contact with the Coast Guard, which means anything he told you I have to assume you’ve already told them. About us. About me.”
“I swear—” James said.
Machii jammed his gun into Nalani’s eye socket. She cried out in pain and tried to tear herself away, but he twisted her hair into his fist.
“What did Isko tell you?” the smuggler asked. His smile had vanished, leaving behind such icy malice that it might never have been there at all. “What did you pass along to the Coast Guard?”
“He raved,” Nalani said. “Like in a nightmare. Begging for his life. He talked about the Devil Sharks. I swear that’s it!”
Alex pointed at Gabe. “He did that! He was disoriented. He must’ve thought we were you, coming back for him. He attacked our first mate and bashed his fucking head in.”
Machii looked thoughtful. Alex took a step and Damien thumped him in the head with the butt of his assault rifle. He went down on one knee, but he rose immediately. Staying down would mark him as weak, vulnerable, and he could feel the primal tension at work here, the wolf pack mentality. They’d tear him apart. His skull ached, and his maybe-broken nose throbbed, but he stood up straight.
Sami seemed about to say something, but Alex shot her a warning look. He prayed she wouldn’t say anything about being a doctor. These people might want a doctor. They might just take her. Alex drew only shallow breaths, fighting panic, battling all of the bloody scenarios that played out in his mind. He tried to tell himself that there was a way they might survive this, and maybe there was. But these men radiated violence. They practically stank of it. Alex studied the youngest of them, who might be Joriz or Benjie. The man held the pillowcase with his gun and he kept glancing about nervously. Alex thought if it came to that he’d have no problem wresting the kid’s gun away from him. He could kill one or two of them—but which ones? And would anyone else move fast enough to make a difference? Would his friends be quick enough, brave enough, brutal enough, to survive if they had to fight?
He wanted to live, to see his daughter again. But more than that, he needed Sami to live. He’d kill all of these motherfuckers by himself if it meant he could stop them from murdering her.
Breathe, he told himself. Watch and listen. Wait.
“So he didn’t tell you anything about us? About this operation?” Machii asked.
Nalani shook her head, desperate hope in her eyes.
Machii kept a grip on her hair but swung the barrel of his gun toward James, and pulled the trigger.
Nalani screamed as the bullet punched through her husband’s skull, spraying blood and gray matter across the deck, splattering Nils and Patrick. Alex and Sami were both shouting. Luisa fell to her knees, crying, looking like insanity had just claimed her.
“Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus,” Patrick kept saying, backing up, staring at the blood on him.
“Don’t fucking move!” Damien barked, aiming his weapon at Patrick and Nils. Both men froze.
Nalani kept screaming. Machii shook her by the hair and pointed the gun at Nils.
“This guy’s next. Maybe you don’t love him like you did your man, but I doubt you want him to die. So tell me, smart lady. What did Isko tell you?”
“Nothing!” Nalani cried. “We didn’t know anything about you until you got here. We didn’t tell the Coast Guard anything. We didn’t … Oh, God, James. Oh my God, James.”
She kept trying to turn, to twist away from him so she could get a good look at her husband, as if there might be some chance he’d survived that bullet, even with his blood and brains on the deck and on Nils and Patrick.
Machii shoved her backward, releasing his grip on her hair, and she fell sprawling at Cat’s feet. Cat, who’d flinched and closed her eyes. Who opened them now, staring at Machii, but kept her mouth shut.
Benjie and Joriz lowered their weapons long enough to pick up Ja
mes’s body. Luisa and Nalani were both crying, screaming at them as they carried James to the railing and threw him overboard. The rest of them stayed silent, not wanting to be next. They heard the splash, and then more noises below, a feeding frenzy.
Blue Eyes stood above Isko, who’d fallen unconscious again. “Want me to finish this idiot?”
“Nah. He’s going to die anyway,” Machii said. “Traitor piece of shit. No way he lives through that rotting leg and the blood loss. It’s a miracle he’s lived this long. Let him keep hurting.”
Blue Eyes stomped on Isko’s ruined leg, but the man was so far gone now that he only groaned, eyelids fluttering. Alex thought this must be a coma now. Machii was right. He wouldn’t live long.
The smugglers’ leader pointed at Gabe. “That guy, though. Grab him.”
Benjie and Joriz moved toward him.
“No,” Gabe said, trying to slide away from them. “What the fuck … I can’t hurt you. I’m no danger to you.”
Machii laughed. “None of you are.”
The two men picked Gabe up. He started to struggle, trying to fight them, but Damien moved in and smashed him in the skull. Gabe jerked in their arms, not a struggle now but a seizure. That blow had furthered the damage to his head. Bloody spittle flew from his lips.
“Oh, shit,” Blue Eyes said, laughing. “What’d you do, Damien?”
Damien glared at him but said nothing. After a few more jerks, Gabe started muttering to himself. Alex heard him call for Harry, but though his hands flailed a bit, he had no fight left in him as they carried him to the railing.
“No!” Alex said, stepping toward them. “He’s gonna die like Isko. Just let him die here on the deck. The sharks—”
Machii pointed his pistol at Alex’s chest, but it was the look in the man’s eyes that stopped him.
“Sharks need to eat, Alex.”
Gabe whimpered as they hurled him overboard. Alex turned away. He wanted to cover his ears so he didn’t have to hear the sounds that would follow, but he worried they would see his hands come up and just shoot him. That they’d throw him into the water with the sharks. The Diyablo Pating.
Devil Sharks Page 13
