by Matt Lincoln
A grandstander. I could use that. Maybe.
“How are you gonna start over?” I asked as I looked for an opening. “After today, everything you touch is poison. Your face will be all over the news.”
He lifted the short barrel so that it was pointing more at my head and less at my gut. Not necessarily an improvement.
“I have my ways.” A narrow-lipped grin spread across that wide face. He looked to the horizon and laughed. “I suppose you think your friends will get here in time if you stall me long enough.” He leveled the Mini Uzi back to my middle.
“Nah,” I answered. “I just wanted to stall long enough to distract you from the chopper that saw my flare.”
“Funny, but I am not falling for that juvenile nonsense. Goodb—”
Fate is a hell of a thing. As far as I knew, I was lying about the helicopter’s arrival. As it turned out, I was spot on, and the steady beat of helicopter blades caught Price’s attention. He stole an involuntary look in that direction, and that was my opening.
I surged up at his middle to try to tackle him, but while I hit him dead center of mass, Price was like a walking wall. He barely recoiled back, only letting out a little grunt from the impact, but at least I was in close quarters now. He swung the Uzi around to fill me with lead, but I stepped within his reach and blocked his aim long enough to grab the weapon with both hands. My injured arm blazed as I tried to use my momentum to loosen his ungodly grip on the thing, but he managed to hold on with one hand.
It was like Price was made of steel.
Price let out a growl and shoved me back with his immense strength far enough to whip the gun around to strike me with the grip. I tried to duck, but I was off balance as it was, and the blow cracked me on the side of my head. Bright lights burst all across my vision, but I didn’t fall. If I stopped, I’d be dead.
Instead, I headed right for him to deny him a clean shot as my vision cleared. My heart almost stopped when I heard the Uzi’s booming report over the growing sounds of the helicopter… but when those shots didn’t kill me, I knew he was aiming for the aircraft. The chopper veered off, apparently unharmed.
My sight was clear enough that I got a good view of this mammoth of a man as he whirled back around to me, but this time, I knew what to expect. Instead of trying to disarm him this time, I raised my good arm to ward off his aim and brought around a hard kick to the side of his knee. No matter how big or strong Price was, he couldn’t resist that kind of strike. As my foot slammed into the joint, it buckled. Price let out a howl of pain as he went down to one knee, loosening his grip on the Uzi just enough for me to knock it out of his grasp.
Price wasn’t out yet. When I tried to press my advantage, the beast simply roared and surged back to his feet, with one meaty hand reaching out for me. I knew if he got a hold of me, I was going home in a coffin, so I hopped back and pulled the flare gun, but before I could pull the trigger, the bull of a man rushed forward with frightening speed. I tried to pull back, but he managed to knock the flare gun out of my hand with a glancing sweep of his giant hand.
That gun was my one real chance to even the odds, so I made a lunge to pick it up, but Price simply stepped forward to occupy the space. Knowing when to pick my fights, I backed off and dropped into a fighting stance. At least this beast was unarmed, small comfort that it was.
As we circled each other warily, Price slipped out of his off-white blazer and tossed it to the ground. This monster was almost a head taller than me, and his arms were like tree trunks. When he glanced at the flare gun at his feet, I knew I had to keep him away from that weapon, or I was screwed.
“You told us you avoid scandal,” I accused, hoping to keep his attention on me. “A good reputation is everything. You made it sound like you weren’t operating out of your club.”
“I wasn’t,” he scoffed. “My club was an upstanding establishment. Victoria handled our local business through her club. She has also been a most excellent computer expert.”
“She’s the one who screened your buyers,” I added. “Clever, but you’re going down, regardless.”
Price feinted left, and I hustled out of reach. The helicopter got louder but more from above. Smart. They were coming in from the angle of the sun. If I played it right, they could take Price out… only he had the same thought which prompted him into action.
He roared like a bull and charged me. I danced out of the way, but he cut back toward me in a move that should have shredded his knees. I moved backward, but he caught me by the left arm and squeezed against the bullet wound. Pain lanced up to my shoulder as he jerked me off my feet, then flung me violently to the ground. As the air exploded out of my lungs, Price took the opening to pluck the flare gun off the ground. By the time I scrambled to my feet, the Goliath had the flare gun pointed at me, his back to the sea and mine to his villa.
“You are resourceful, I’ll give you that.” He aimed it at my head, but I didn’t flinch. “I hope you appreciate the irony of your death.”
He pulled the trigger, but I was ready, despite the pain in my arm. As the flare started to veer just slightly wide, I dove the opposite way. The flare blazed red as it burned past me and wedged into the rock.
I barreled into him. This time, he stumbled backward and couldn’t regain his footing. The quick son of a bitch latched onto my good arm and pulled me with him. He hit the beach path first, and I landed halfway on him. We rolled and slid across the path and down the side of the hill. Every rock and stone I met felt like it dug into my bare back, and my good arm came free as Price landed on the hard-packed sand.
I landed far too close for comfort. New pain spiked through my chest, and I tasted blood from where I almost ate a rock. Dammit. At least one or two ribs were busted, and if I wasn’t careful, they’d puncture my lung.
Price groaned and rolled onto his side. He threw the unloaded flare gun at me, and it bounced into my side. I got to my knees and picked up the orange weapon, for a weapon it was. As I lurched to my feet, I pulled a cartridge out of my pants pocket. Price gaped and was on his feet in under a second. I clicked the cartridge into place and aimed at him.
“You know the damage this’ll do,” I panted. “Back down, Price.”
He stood to his full height. “I will not. The Trader is out of business, but I will go on. There are never enough merchants on the black market.”
The chopper landed at the top of the cliff. I did not want to think about the twenty feet I’d just fallen. Instead, I kept my focus on Price.
“Down on your knees… fingers… fingers behind your… head.” Damn, it was getting hard to breathe. Price was getting too close, too.
“You can’t even hold that straight,” he sneered. “A little man trying to play a big man’s game. Ha. You are pathetic.”
“Go to hell… Trader.”
“You first, Marston.”
He charged me, and I fired the flare gun. The giant of a man was maybe ten feet away, and that flare put an impressive hole in his chest. He stared at the blossoming stain and rib shards. I think he died on his feet before falling back, but I was too busy trying not to die myself.
Someone yelled my name, but dammit, I couldn’t breathe.
43
Birn’s laughter pulled me out of a hell of a sleep.
My eyes were gritty, but the small room came into focus. White walls, a wheat-colored curtain, and a throbbing left arm greeted me. The room’s aroma hinted at industrial-strength disinfectants and pollen. Sure enough, someone had placed flowers on the hospital table next to my bed.
“Ethan, you with us?” Diane stepped into view. Wow, the boss had flown in to see me. “Someone let the nurses know he’s waking up.”
I’d had better days, but I’d had far worse during far darker times in my life. But yeah, I’d definitely had better days that didn’t involve hospital beds and call buttons.
“Guess I won,” I rasped. My throat had that scratchiness that comes from having a breathing tube shoved down
your throat during surgery. “Repairs?”
“A few,” Holm told me. He stepped to my side. A light was behind him and lit his golden hair like a halo. “Bullet wound to the arm, two broken ribs, and some nasty bruises. They had to do some work on your arm. Knowing you, buddy, you’ll be back on duty in a few days.”
“Like hell, he is,” Diane barked. She sat in the chair next to my bed. “You’ll live. They patched you up as good as any doc in Miami.”
A nurse bustled in, followed soon after by the doctor who’d operated. I tuned out most of the medical mumbo jumbo. The most important stuff stuck. I would be fine. I hadn’t lost any vital organs. My arm should get back to normal before I knew it.
Once the medical stuff was out of the way, Birn left to get food with Muñoz, Emily, and Luci. Holm and Diane were the only ones in the room with me.
“Did you catch Victoria?” I asked. My throat still hurt, but it was easier to speak. “And are the victims out?”
“Victoria turned herself in when our team raided the place,” Diane answered. “The Royal Police are still processing the trafficking survivors now that they’re out of that hellhole. The good news was that our people got access to Victoria’s network. They’re going to find most, maybe even all, of the Trader’s victims.”
“So, they’ll charge Victoria here in Barbados?” I wanted to know. “I mean, as long as she goes to prison…”
Holm shook his head. “No charges. When she heard Price was dead, all she’d say was that she loved him. They checked on her a few hours later in the holding cell, and she’d hanged herself.”
“She was definitely our hacker?”
“Yes.” Diane pulled out a tablet. “Remember how we said the hacker had to be on the scene to get to Detective Rucker’s phone?”
“Yeah.” I pushed the button for the bed to sit me up some more. “Did you find her?”
Diane pulled up a video and started it. It was from a Miami news station, and the reporters were interviewing anyone who’d talk with them. There, bold as balls, was Victoria, on the scene being interviewed.
“Why, I’d gotten lost on my walk from the cruise ship, and I heard all those police cars.” Victoria mimicked the American accent pretty well. “It’s just terrible. Those poor girls must have suffered so much.” She faked a tear and turned away from the camera.
“That’s all, but it would’ve been enough to tie her to the delivery scene,” Diane told me. “Now it’s your turn.”
I told them everything from the point at which Holm and I went different directions through the events that led to Price’s death.
“A flare gun,” Holm laughed. “Remind me to keep you away from those from now on.”
“Heh.” I couldn’t laugh without inflicting more damage to myself. At least, that’s how it felt. “Ha, ha.”
“If you’re ready, your visitors should be back with food,” Diane said. “If you aren’t ready, I’m going to eat, anyway. I didn’t have dinner before getting on that Air Force jet.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Air Force instead of Navy?”
“Muñoz still has some friends in the service. Don’t knock it.”
Holm snorted but had the wisdom not to complain.
“I could stand to eat something,” I admitted. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours for surgery on your arm.” Holm took a seat across the bed from Diane. “You did a hell of a job, brother. Doc said you can fly home tomorrow if you can walk a straight line in the morning.” He got up and went to get the others.
I gave Diane a dry look. “I didn’t scratch your plane,” I informed her.
“No, Ethan, you didn’t,” Diane admitted. “You did a damned fine job of trashing your body instead.”
Emily walked up to the bed, and Diane gave her the chair. Emily sat and picked up my hand. Damn, she could smile.
“Dad says to tell you hi, and that you have some ridiculous bids on your coins.” She whispered a number that was far beyond expectations. “They can’t finalize the auctions until you sign the paperwork, but they’re pretty much done deals.”
“Wow.” Not much could blow my mind anymore, but that much money sure as hell did. “I’m gonna use it to find the Dragon’s Rogue. I think we can do it.”
Emily smiled again and squeezed my hand. I could get used to that. I wished we could spend a few days alone.
“Luci’s staying in Barbados,” Emily said. She looked toward the door where more people were entering. “She’s going to stay with Aunt Esme to help preserve the records. And learn a few cooking skills.”
Luci held a basket in one hand and waved with the other. Her short hair still covered the tattoo, but she looked happy. With her was literally a little old lady who must have been Aunt Esme. Everyone else called her that. Guess we were all adopted.
“You must eat good food,” she instructed. “The kids helped me pick fresh fruit before we came over. I cooked for everyone, and I will serve you breakfast before you all leave tomorrow.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I answered. “Thank you for that diary page, Mrs. Alleyne. And the food.”
“‘Aunt Esme’ will do, young man.” She beamed, and the family resemblance to Emily was undeniable. “Now, let us all eat!”
“I can’t say ‘no’ to that, Aunt Esme,” I agreed. “This hospital food isn’t much better than anywhere else.”
Other than the pain, I felt pretty good. The exhaustion didn’t hit until later, after everyone but Emily and Holm left a couple of hours later.
“My dad and I are going to take the cannonball and coins and start cleaning them when we get home,” Emily said with a smile. “He wants you to know he’s not charging a dime because I’m going to help. And because I finally got to see Aunt Esme thanks to you.”
“Your dad is a good man.” I touched her hand, which she wrapped around mine. “I’m grateful.”
Emily spent the evening at a local university library in order to get some time in for her online students. First thing in the morning, she was back in my hospital room.
“Do or die, sailor,” she told me as we waited for the doctor to clear me. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, but just in case, I want you to know I’ll stay if you can’t fly home with the team today.”
I wanted to be a good person and tell her not to worry, but my selfish side won out. It wasn’t like I had the chance to spend real alone time with her since this whole thing began.
“If that happens, I’ll pay for your ticket when we go back,” I promised. “But I don’t think it’ll be an issue.”
Half an hour later, I proved my balance to a bored physician and was then booted from the hospital. Emily drove us to the airport where the King Air was almost ready to go. Muñoz did most of the preflight due to Birn’s injury.
“Matching tattoos would’ve been a better idea,” Birn told me. “This whole bullet hole to the arm thing is overrated.”
“Tell me about it,” I laughed as I walked around the plane. “It’ll be a great story for the ladies someday. When it doesn’t hurt like hell.”
Birn snorted and joined Muñoz in the cabin. I wasn’t sure it was strictly compliant for him to co-pilot with his injury, but nobody was complaining. We all just wanted to get home.
When I went to board with the empty flare gun kit I’d kept as a souvenir, I found Emily and Diane fussing over how to store the pirate finds in their saltwater tub. I stepped back and lingered at the top step of the doors that were inset into the door, so I could eavesdrop. Hey, I might be one of the good guys, but sometimes a guy liked to know where he stood.
“Remind me why they have to stay in the water,” Diane grumped. “It’s a hassle, and it’s Marston’s problem, not mine.”
“Once these items hit the air, they’ll start corroding,” Emily told her. “Those coins are silver, not gold. If they aren’t cleaned carefully, they’ll disintegrate when they’re taken out of the water.”
“Tub it is,” Diane agreed.
“Oh, hey, Ethan,” Emily chirped.
In my defense, what happened next only happened because I was on narcotics for surgical pain.
My foot slipped backward on the stair, and I stumbled into Holm. I didn’t think about the hard-plastic box I carried as I grabbed at the thin, so-called rail. I managed to not only miss the rail but fling the flare kit against the outside of the plane’s cabin with a thunk. Holm stopped me from tumbling, but my ego was a goner.
“Ethan.” Diane’s voice was too calm once the clamor subsided. “Is that your flare box?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did that box just hit the side of my brand new airplane?”
“It was more of a ricochet than a hit,” I insisted. “Nothing bad.”
“Ethan…” She held onto the rail and leaned over to see where the kit box had hit. I saw a smudge and winced. Diane’s face darkened, and she shook a finger like she couldn’t decide what to do with me. Ultimately, she turned her back and stalked into the cabin.
I checked the spot, and there, in the middle of the smudge, was the tiniest scratch ever.
“It’s barely there,” I appealed to Holm.
He laughed, shook his head, and went to his seat. I retrieved the box and stowed it under my seat. Emily sat across the aisle from me, and the corner of her lips twitched upward. I wanted to ask her everything about her life, but that was not a conversation to have in a shared space. Nor, apparently, was it a conversation to be had when half-asleep on painkillers, like I was for the duration of the flight.
Back in Miami, I spent a few days in the houseboat to recover from surgery and the multitude of small injuries I’d taken over the past few days. On the third day, Emily brought over the hard copies of the coins’ auction papers.
“Dad’s getting the funds wired tomorrow,” she updated me as she entered the houseboat. “You’re going to have a lot of options.”
