by Kim Baldwin
“Yes.” A brief pause, then, “According to him, Lykourgos’s guard positions are exclusively from his own privately trained ex-military men.”
“Damn. I need to be posted near him at least most of the time. What else have we got?”
“Hold on.” Pierce sounded frustrated. “You’re on speaker.”
“Okay, we have steward…” Reno’s voice.
“On call all the time,” Switch replied.
“Engineer…or deckhand.”
“Won’t have run of the yacht.”
“First mate?” Reno offered.
Switch started to pace. “Too closely watched by the captain.”
“Masseuse.”
“Eewww, and I’d still have limited access.”
“I’m running out of available positions,” he said. “How about—”
“Bosun,” Switch said. “It’ll give me the most latitude to be everywhere, with lots of free time so I won’t constantly be monitored.”
“No positions available. And he demands male bosuns exclusively,” Reno replied.
Pierce cut in. “The later is not an issue. And we can create an opening.”
“You’re going to…to kill him for the position?” Reno sounded horrified.
“Do you work part-time in a meth trailer?” Pierce. “No one’s going to kill the bosun.”
“But I can incapacitate him,” Switch said.
“Like, break his arms and…and his legs, and blind him?” Reno sounded like he was going to retch. “I don’t know how you guys do it. I really don’t get it. It’s—”
“Good grief, man.” Pierce stopped Reno’s tirade. “Have you finally managed to push a straw so far up your nose you lodged it in your brain?”
“I’m not going to cut him into pieces and send him to his mother, Reno,” Switch said, trying her hardest not to laugh.
“Don’t encourage him.” Pierce again. “I’m not kidding, you know. I actually walked in once and found him with a straw up each nostril.”
Pierce must be on new meds. Switch had never heard him be so open and spontaneous before. Or maybe the mere thought of TQ in a Greek prison had done the trick.
“I was playin’,” Reno said. “Hey, I was just playin’, Alex.”
“She’s on a job,” Pierce said.
“What, I didn’t say Switch? I meant Switch.”
“Just go back to your work or whatever you do in there.”
“Fine. But only because I want to.” Reno sounded like a scolded child.
“I’ll take care of the bosun,” she said. “It’s good timing. The yacht is anchored off the Grand Resort of Porto Carras, so I bet he’s getting shore leave. Not a lot of bars and clubs to check. Should be easy to find.”
“I’ll get the proper CV, pull the right strings, and get you ready to replace him,” Pierce said.
“Have Reno send me some of the bosun’s stats: picture, etcetera. You get the paperwork ready and I’ll move in on the guy as soon as you give me the go-ahead.”
“Get ready to move in on him by tonight.” Pierce hung up.
Chapter Seven
Porto Carras, Greece
Next afternoon
To have accomplished as much as he had in less than twenty-four hours, Monty must have assigned a small army to the task of setting up Operation Divine Intervention, Switch mused, which spoke volumes about his passion for bringing TQ to justice. Within a few hours, he’d gotten the necessary approvals from the other two members of the EOO Governing Trio, had obtained a detailed blueprint of the Pegasus, and arranged for her to be hired as a replacement bosun after the usual crewmember’s unfortunate accident.
He’d even managed to build a very credible resume for her cover, which listed a number of well-known commercial cruise ships among her previous experience. She had no doubt the captains of those vessels gave Alex Ramos a glowing recommendation when Lykourgos had them checked this morning.
Though excited to get the mission under way, she knew this one would contain some unusual challenges. She’d worked on a number of boats before as an op, but never anything as massive as the Pegasus, and as bosun she’d have a complex job with immense responsibility. Merely finding her way around the ship would be an issue initially. And Monty had also learned that, in addition to Lykourgos’s family, a couple dozen other guests were on board, mostly friends of his wife, daughter, and son. They might make it difficult to effectively search the entire ship.
Whether TQ was still aboard was something she’d have to find out firsthand, as none of the records Reno checked contained any mention of her.
She’d dressed conservatively, in plain black trousers, black button-down shirt, and leather boots with rubber soles, in the event she met the owner before she got her shipboard uniform. While she waited for the Pegasus’s inflatable dinghy to pick her up, she scanned the blueprint to locate the crew’s quarters and where she’d be staying. She also familiarized herself with the onboard security system, the list of current crewmembers and their backgrounds, and the general duties of a bosun aboard the Pegasus, since that position could vary widely from ship to ship.
When the distant buzz of an approaching Zodiac caught her attention, she put the paperwork back into her duffel and stepped onto the pier. Two Pegasus crewmembers—both second bosuns, according to the epaulets on their white dress uniforms—had been dispatched to transport her the short distance to the superyacht.
She stepped in and the Zodiac headed off at top speed as soon as she was settled.
“Welcome on board.” The attractive thirty-something guy with deliberate stubble who was at the outboard motor smiled and greeted Switch loudly in Greek over the engine’s roar. The other man, probably in his late twenties and much shorter, smiled as well and nodded hello.
The Pegasus looked enormous from a distance, but close up it was practically a small city. “Good to be here,” she shouted back.
In no time, they were disembarking on the rear transom.
“We were told you have plenty of experience, so this should be a breeze,” said the tall, stubbled one. “I’m Manos, by the way, and this is Fotis.”
Both guys looked friendly and genuinely warm, but Manos looked like he was x-raying Switch.
“Call me Alex,” she replied. “I’ve worked on cruise ships, but I’m a first-timer on a privately owned monster yacht.”
“No worries. We’ll show you around.” Manos smiled, displaying even, white teeth. “It’s a good job. Lykourgos is super relaxed and a lot of fun to work for.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get started with my cabin.” Switch hefted her duffel.
They took a crew stairwell two floors down, then followed a long hallway. Manos opened the door to what would be her quarters.
The room had a bunk bed, night table, closet, and what was probably a small bathroom. It wasn’t as tiny as she’d expected, but then again, nothing was small about the Pegasus.
Privacy was a real concern, however, considering her disguise. “Who am I bunking with?”
“No one,” Fotis replied. “We share when we need a bigger staff for longer trips and more guests, but this trip is all about close friends and direct family members.”
“Cool.” Thank God. The last thing she needed was to sleep bandaged up.
“Let’s get you changed for the tour and a meet-and-greet with the owner. Your clothes are in the closet,” Manos said, carefully scrutinizing Switch again. “You’re a bit thinner than the guy you’re replacing, but about the same height, so they should fit. If not, we’ll hit the crew laundry. Oh, and your radio’s on your bunk.”
“Does Lykourgos meet with all his new staff members?”
“You bet,” Fotis replied. “He doesn’t like faces he can’t put a name to walking around the yacht.”
“Makes sense.”
Both men stood at the door, waiting. “Hurry, then,” Manos said.
Jesus, were they going to stand there while she changed? “You know what? You guys go ah
ead. I’ll find you on deck.”
“Shy?” Manos laughed. “Am I that obvious?”
“What?” Switch asked, confused.
“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I find every guy attractive.”
“Oh.” She didn’t see that coming. “No, it’s not that.”
Manos pulled Fotis away from the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want Alex to think I’m hitting on him.”
“Because you would never do that.” Fotis rolled his eyes and pointed to his companion. “He’s a slut.”
“Well, excuse me for burdening you with my exciting sex life,” Manos replied. “Not all of us choose to pine away for the impossible. The beautiful, lovely, wonderful Ariadne,” he went on, drawing out the words in a comical way. “Way, way, way beyond your league, and the faster you realize that, the faster we can all get some sleep.” He made a crude masturbation gesture and laughed.
“Move it, flamer.” Clearly aggravated, Fotis pushed the taller man out of the room and shut the door behind them.
Switch sighed in relief and had started to unbutton her shirt when the door opened again. It was Manos.
“Just FYI, you’re a hell of a good-looking kid.” He winked at Switch.
“Thanks?” Switch hoped the bandage wasn’t showing.
“Don’t be long.” He left and closed the door.
She wasn’t going to take any more chances. She locked the door before she changed into her dress whites.
“Smile a lot. He likes friendly faces,” Manos said as they approached the Lykourgos family on the aft, third-tier deck. They were having brunch beneath an awning and were all being very talkative.
Lykourgos looked just like he did in the magazines, with his thick gray hair and dark eyebrows, only skinnier and paler. She also had a clear view of the wife and son as they approached, but the daughter had her back to them.
“Manos, you bring me good news,” Lykourgos said when they got a few feet from the table, and everyone turned to look except for the daughter.
“I like to make you happy,” Manos said.
“Mr. Lykourgos, I’m Alex.” Switch offered her hand.
Lykourgos, still seated, shook her hand so hard Switch thought he was trying to rip her arm off. Away from the Pegasus, one would be hard pressed to peg him as a billionaire in his faded jeans, well-worn shirt and sandals, unkempt hair, and stubble of beard. But that didn’t really surprise her. Shipping magnates, even very wealthy ones, were usually a breed unto themselves. Their primary passion was the sea, not money, and they were a generally unpretentious type. For them, yachts weren’t vehicles to impress their friends, more like mistresses who fulfilled their innermost desires. “You have a good grip, young man.” He finally let go.
Switch grinned, happy to have her hand back. “Thank you, sir.”
“So.” He clapped. “This is my beautiful family.” He gestured around the table, pausing first at his wife. “This is Mrs. Lykourgos.”
“Call me Christine.” His attractive and elegant wife smiled. She was younger than her spouse, but not by much, and she obviously took exceptional care of her appearance. Her hair was recently coiffed, her makeup perfect, each polished nail exquisitely manicured. The value of the jewelry she was wearing would have fed a small village for years, and she clearly never bought off the rack.
“Nice to meet you, Christine.”
“I’m Nikolaos.” The young man waved. He was twenty-four and a replica of his father except for hair color.
“Hi,” Switch replied.
Lykourgos gestured lovingly toward his daughter. “And this…is Ariadne.”
The daughter looked briefly up from her newspaper and gave Switch a quick glance. Then, what she’d seen in that glimpse seemed to register, somehow, and, after a beat, she turned her head, slowly this time, to look at her again. She looked straight into Switch’s eyes…then deliberately took a long time to fully assess the rest of her. “How old are you?” she finally asked.
Switch stood at attention with her hands behind her. “Twenty-four.” She kept her gaze steady and smiled.
“Ha! You look younger.” Ariadne checked her out again, but this time she stopped at Switch’s crotch and stared with the curiosity and disinterest of a gay woman. When she saw what she had, or hadn’t, expected, she looked up at Switch again.
Switch was used to the scrutiny of strangers when it came to her androgynous looks, but she wasn’t used to feeling like she’ d been hit by a tornado. Ariadne was, without a doubt, a stunning and sensual woman. Breathtaking. She could see why Fortis had a thing for her. “I get that a lot,” she casually replied.
“Where are you from?” Ariadne asked.
“Thessaloniki.”
“Aha.”
It felt as though Ariadne was looking for questions just to keep Switch there.
“You’re one of those lucky guys who don’t need to shave,” Nikolaos said.
“So they tell me.”
“As you can see,” Lykourgos said jovially, “my family likes to ask questions. A lot of questions.”
“That’s fine, sir. I have nothing to hide.”
“Manos, show the new kid around and make sure he knows what he’s doing,” Lykourgos said.
“Yeah, Manos.” Ariadne turned to the second bosun and smiled. “Make sure he knows what he’s doing.” She winked at him.
Great. Now she thinks I’m a gay dude, too.
Manos spent the next two hours walking Switch through the massive ship’s seven decks to familiarize her with the layout. Though she’d studied the blueprints and exterior photos Reno was able to snag off the Internet, she hadn’t fully appreciated the sheer scope of the Pegasus until she saw it for herself.
On the first two decks, Lykourgos had lavishly outfitted the ship with a number of specialty rooms for his guests to enjoy. Two lounges with state-of-the-art sound systems, dance floors, and well-equipped bars had been designed for his children and their friends, while his own guests usually gravitated toward the cigar lounge, sauna / steam rooms, or the massive library, with its oversized leather pub chairs and wide assortment of reading material in several languages. The casino was also a popular hangout, with a roulette wheel, blackjack table, slot machines, and other amenities.
His wife had her own hair salon and a game room with its own bar for her marathon biriba sessions. She also took daily manicures and massages in the spa while on board. Manos warned that she was never to be disturbed there, under any circumstances.
On the graduated upper decks were the two helicopter landing pads and the hangar for Lykourgos’s Eurocopter Mercedes-Benz EC145, as well as two pools: a fifty-foot seawater pool with hot and cold Jacuzzis on either side, and a freshwater lap pool. Both had changing cabanas and rows of comfy lounge seating. There were outdoor dining areas there, as well; Switch noticed an abundance of places to dine, or drink, scattered throughout the ship. Each bar they passed seemed to be stocked with every conceivable kind of alcohol and had only the finest crystal glassware.
Once they finished with the recreational areas of the ship, Manos led her past the many guest cabins, all plushly furnished with the finest furniture, linens, flat-screen TVs, and amenities. Lykourgos’s son and daughter had enormous staterooms, but the billionaire and his wife’s master suite trumped them both.
“When Mr. Lykourgos is in his quarters,” Manos said, “a bodyguard is always positioned outside. When he is elsewhere, the room is kept locked and alarmed. Only his family and maid have keycards, and the maid’s is locked in the chief steward’s safe when she isn’t cleaning the room.”
Manos knocked twice on the door and announced his name, and a few seconds later, the light on the door changed from red to green. The door opened to reveal a short, heavyset woman in her fifties, dressed in a starched black-and-white uniform.
“Alex, this is Mr. and Mrs. Lykourgos’s maid. She’s been with them forever.” To the woman, he added, “Alex is our new bosun. I’m showing him around.”
Too soon, Manos continued on, below deck to the crew quarters, where, in an impromptu meeting in the bosun’s office, he introduced her around to the deckhands she’d be supervising. Then they toured the crew’s dining area and moved on to the thousand-square-foot galley and food-storage areas. The long, walk-in cooler and pantry seemed to be stocked with enough provisions to feed a small army for six months. Dozens of live lobster swam in their own tank, and Switch could see a handful of sous chefs currently working on other freshly caught Aegean delicacies.
Aft of the galley were the engine rooms and the billionaire’s private submarine, capable of diving to three hundred feet. The only area in the underbelly of the ship designed for guests was a cozy lounge with a glass floor, so they could watch the fish and sea creatures swimming by as they enjoyed cocktails. It was accessed by the spectacular spiral staircase that ran through all seven levels of the ship.
“Any questions, come find me,” Manos said as they returned to the bosun’s office. He fished a clipboard off the desk. “Here is the crew roster and their schedules,” he said, pointing to the top page. “And the list of current guests, with a brief description of their likes and dislikes, so you’ll know who is apt to need our services. Your first job will be to get the Jet Skis ready. Ariadne and three of her friends want to take them out in a half hour.” He started to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget to change.”
“No problem.” As soon as she was alone, Switch flipped to the list of today’s guests. Her heartbeat accelerated when she saw Theodora Rothschild among the twenty-six names.
Chapter Eight
