“So those guns could all have been registered here and they’re just using them to trade for something else? Like drugs?”
Mak shook his head. “No way. Like I said, machine guns are illegal in Hawaii. There’s no way to register one even if you wanted to. Same goes for stun guns, silencers, hand grenades, and Teflon coated ammunition.”
Blythe didn’t like the sound of that. Could these guys be using Teflon coated ammunition? Was that how she was going to die? And what exactly did Teflon do to you once it was inside you? She shuddered.
They looked ahead in silence for a while, watching as the men checked a few more crates and then nailed them back together. The Asian man walked around with his phone taking photos of the serial numbers on the side of each crate for inventory.
“With our strict gun laws, it’s a slap in the face if you ask me. They’re doing this right under the authorities noses.”
“Isn’t that the point of smuggling?” Blythe asked.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“There’s a lot of movement down there now. The exchange is almost over and the other guys should be getting back on their boat soon.” Mak stood and paced around the smoldering fire. He kicked dirt onto the last of the embers, helping it along. “This could be our only chance to call for help while they’re distracted by the exchange.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Blythe’s panic spiked as she searched his eyes. A nagging anxiety crept in before he’d even uttered a word.
“I’m going down there.”
“Where?” she hissed.
“Down to our boat. I’ll use the CB to call for help and then run back here without being seen. I can do it.”
Blythe shook her head violently. “No way. Not going to happen. Please, Mak, don’t!”
“I have to. It’s our only hope.”
“Then I’m coming with you. Please, I can’t stay here and wait to die. I can help,” she implored.
Mak stood motionless as he thought it through. “Okay, lets do this. We have nothing to lose. I want you to stay close to me, right on my heels, got it?”
Blythe nodded. She was psyching herself up for it, taking deep breaths like she was about to run a sprint race. Mak guided her to the edge of the boulders and brought her down to a low crouch at his side. “We’ll run down to the right, over that grassy ridge, and straight down to the boat.” Mak moved his hand with each direction, like a football coach going over maneuvers. He suddenly hesitated, realizing Big Lou may have been placed in the boat they came in. “On second thought, maybe I’ll go alone.”
“Why? I want to go too!” Blythe demanded.
How could he say this gently? “Blythe, they may have placed Lou on our boat. You can’t come. I can’t chance you seeing him. I’m going alone.” Leaning back, he grabbed the gun, cocked it, and shoved it into her hands. “If anything happens to me, you’ll have this. Just stay here and wait until the Coast Guard comes. I’ll do everything in my power to reach that CB. Got it?”
“No, I can’t. Don’t leave me here, Mak.”
Mak grabbed her around the back of the neck and pulled her face close, his eyes intense. “I have to do this. You know that. I have to save you.” He kissed her forcefully, as if creating a lasting memory of her touch on his lips. Mak could feel the tension emanate from her. Her body language was ridged and her face held a stony, accepting expression. She was getting better at controlling her reactions, which impressed him immensely.
Releasing her, he stood and straightened, raking a hand through his hair and doing a visual search of the boat area. He wouldn’t meet her steadfast stare, but he was highly aware of her eyes burning into him pleadingly. It was as if he’d slipped into a warrior’s trance.
“Please, Mak, don’t do this.” Tears flowed down her face.
“It’s our only hope, Blythe. My brother has warned me about guys like these. We could be dealing with high-level members of a crime ring, each one a potential convicted felon with years of jail time – and years of shady wisdom learned in that environment. They’ve got nothing to lose, everything to gain by our disappearance.”
She swallowed hard, her body shivering.
“Once the other guys leave, they’ll hunt us down until they find us and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“If we don’t make it off this island, I’m happy to have known you,” Blythe said with eyes closed. Opening them, she brought her gaze up as Mak reached out a hand and caressed her cheek.
“You too. But know one thing. Look at me.”
Her eyes searched his.
“We’re making it out of here. The fun we’ll have together is only just beginning. We’ve got unfinished business, Blythe.”
He wasn’t kidding, she thought, though she was touched by his words.
Chapter Nineteen
Mak kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he ran away without looking back. Not wanting to pinpoint their hideout, he traversed down behind the lookout and doubled back around the side opposite the smugglers. Heading over the nearest ridge, he stopped and glanced up toward her. Although he couldn’t see her, he knew she’d be watching so he waved to reassure her. He told himself he was doing this to get help and rescue them, but in reality he knew he had to save Blythe at any cost, even if he took himself out in the process. As long as he contacted the Coast Guard, she’d make it. They’d come and rescue her in no time. He was willing to sacrifice himself for her, that’s how much he cared. He couldn’t deny it, not anymore. He couldn’t have what he wanted anyway, the curse made sure of that. The closer he got to Blythe the worse off they seemed to be. If he made love to her, professed his love, they were sure to die. This way, if he died she would be safe and have a fighting chance of living a long, happy life – curse free.
Mak waited, assessing the best angle to run in without being seen. If he stayed along the tall brush off the path, he could creep across to the boat without being seen. He also risked blowing himself up. Tough call. Either way he could die.
The smugglers were wrapping it up, some getting into the now empty powerboat while the original men exchanged money. They were quite a distance away and preoccupied, so he ran with everything he had toward the boat. Running across the dock would get him seen for sure, so he waded into the shallow waters, avoiding the jagged rocks and anything that looked like it didn’t belong on a beach…like unexploded ordnance. Swimming silently around to the other side of the fire department’s rescue boat, he treaded while gripping the edge, bringing his weight up to the level of the boat’s side. Peering in, he was relieved that Lou’s body was nowhere to be found. He didn’t think he could handle seeing his friend like that, discarded like an inanimate object.
Checking that the coast was clear, Mak pulled himself over with effortless finesse and crouched soundless into the back of the boat. Slinking toward the front, he dropped to the floor unseen, dripping salty water everywhere. He slicked his hair back from his face and held the CB to his mouth. He tried to keep his voice steady, direct, yet as quiet as possible. He knew he only had one shot at this.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. Chief Makaio Kalani. Kahoolawe Island. Man shot. Gun smugglers present. Send backup. Mayday, mayday, mayday.”
Mak awaited a response. Nothing. He sent the message again and then heard hollering. He brought his eyes above the side rail, spotting one of the thugs walking casually toward the rescue boat. He gingerly replaced the CB and searched for keys. If he could get the boat out into open water without being shot, he could go for help. Thinking frantically, he knew the idea wouldn’t fly…not without Blythe. He couldn’t leave her up on Lua Makika stranded. Sure, he could signal for her somehow from the water, have her run down toward the other side of the island where she could get on the boat. But he knew her feet were already shredded and her energy was completely drained. Even so, anyone was capable of digging deeper for that little extra if it meant saving your life. He knew she could do it, he believed in her.
Even still, as Mak peered over the side again, he knew he could never untie the boat without being seen and the keys were nowhere to be found. The plan of escaping by rescue boat was futile.
Mak slipped over the side of the boat again and waited, treading silently on the far side unseen. The not too distant drone of a powerboat followed by the sudden buzz of acceleration told him the other smugglers had left, the tiny waves that soon lapped against the side of the rescue boat validating their departure. Bobbing in the waves as he clung to its side, he waited what seemed like minutes but the man he’d seen earlier never arrived. Bringing his face up again, he saw nothing and assumed the man had gone back to the encampment. Gliding quietly through the water, Mak swam around the boat the way he’d come and waded back up toward the shore. It was riskier now with the diversion of the gun exchange over.
<><><>
Meanwhile, Blythe had been watching Mak’s every move like a hawk through the binoculars. Scanning back and forth from the smuggler’s encampment to Mak and back again like a maniac, her senses were in overdrive. She was completely cognizant of the risk he was taking for their benefit and her entire body ached for his safety.
She’d held her breath as he’d waded into the water, only to disappear around the rescue boat. She’d seen the boat lilt slightly to indicate Mak had boarded, but other then that, the overhang covered any trace of him. She now watched in breathless panic as one of the thugs made his way down the path. Her blood ran cold when she realized it was her attacker. He sauntered over toward the rescue boat, his head tilting slightly as if he’d seen something suspicious. She followed his every move as he approached, wondering if he’d seen Mak getting on.
“Dammit, Mak, get out of there!” she hissed in frantic desperation. Swiveling the binoculars back toward the encampment, the other two men still looked preoccupied with counting the stacks of bills in a black duffel bag. They seemed none the wiser to their buddy’s curiosities.
Swiveling back toward Mak, Blythe saw the thug crouch and run toward the tall brush near the shoreline. He stepped in and hunkered down low as if hiding. It was then that she knew Mak was in serious trouble. With no way to communicate with him, she was forced to sit still and observe while her heart beat up into her throat. Swallowing was impossible. Tears flowed involuntarily as she bore her eyes toward the boat, waiting for Mak to emerge into an ambush, willing him to safety.
Seeing movement around the bow of the rescue boat, her eyes followed Mak as he swam in cautiously before standing and wading in the rest of the way. She felt completely helpless. There had to be something she could do. But what? Once on shore, Mak crouched and ran toward the path, looking around as if he too had seen the thug. He appeared leery, yet completely oblivious to the man who hid a mere stone’s throw away in the bushes. Like a helpless sniper trained on her mark, she fought down her rising fear until it got the better of her.
“Mak, look out!” she screamed with all her might.
It was no use. The distance, coupled with the wind, robbed her voice and carried it away to a mere whisper.
The man emerged from the brush at Mak’s back and punched him in the side. Mak doubled over, surprised and winded. A sinking regret found Blythe’s gut, they should have killed the man when they’d had a chance. Now it all came around full circle. He would kill Mak and she would be next. The good guys would lose and the bad guys would walk away without a care in the world. Life was never fair.
To her surprise, Mak straightened and dove for the thug, knocking him into the brush. They rolled around as Mak punched and flailed his muscular physique around until he had a vantage point. The big thug cried out and Blythe heard it, the shrill cry carrying up on the wind. If she’d heard it, surely it had perked the attention of the others. She swiveled the binoculars toward the encampment. The two remaining thugs were now running in Mak’s direction. Blythe swiveled back to Mak, overshooting him and losing sight of him for a moment. Disoriented, she realigned the binoculars to face him. She saw Mak’s back leaning over a limp, lifeless body in the brush. Mak stood and backed away. He looked left, toward the approaching men in the distance and took off running to the right. She watched in awe as Mak sprinted up the path, passing the rescue boat they’d arrived on and rounding the rise of Lua Makika. The two remaining smugglers were right on him, running as fast as they could to catch him. Blythe clamored her way up the boulder, still clutching the binoculars for dear life as she willed Mak’s feet to run faster. How could he possibly escape? They had a clear shot of him for miles. There was no way he could outrun them forever, or their bullets. Even if the thugs stood still and fired, they’d hit their target. As if witnessing a horrible accident before it even happened, in Blythe’s minds eye she could already see the outcome. She was going to lose Mak.
Her expression sobered. Filled with an unshakable fear for her safely, she clutched the binoculars with a death-grip, willing him to escape someway, somehow. “Run, Mak, run!” she hollered with all her might. “Oh God, run.”
As if refusing to give her away, Mak changed course and headed along the water. He skirted the shoreline, racing quickly to avoid the two men who were now in hot pursuit. Blythe clenched her teeth, her breath practically hyperventilating as she watched the unfair footrace. Mak hurtled some boulders before disappearing behind a crest near the water’s edge with both men on his heels.
Blythe scrambled to the other side of the lookout, desperate to see him come out the other side of the crest and up the inclining path. She held her breath as she searched the scene below, the binoculars darting left and right but seeing no one. And then she heard a gunshot. Catatonic in her fear, she slumped against the boulder, her blood running cold in the knowledge that Mak had been gunned down. She sobbed, the binoculars tumbling from her limp hand. She cradled her face in her hands and drew her knees up, letting it all out. Her sorrow soon gave way to gripping fear. She was alone. The men would find her. She was next. Fear morphed into paranoia as she grappled with her prospects. She reached for the gun, clutching it between her shaking hands with her finger on the trigger, tears streaming down her face. She wouldn’t go down without a fight – she’d do it for Mak. For Mak and for Lou.
Mak. She’d finally found the man of her dreams and he’d been senselessly taken from her. The thought made her shake and cry uncontrollably until a shout snapped her back to attention. She flipped onto her knees and cautiously peered over the top of the boulder to the distant crest. She spotted the Asian man first, walking slowly out from behind the crest followed closely by the older balding man. Blythe grabbed the binoculars to get a better look. The men walked casually, as if they hadn’t a care in the world. They’d obviously finished Mak off and left him there, dead, beneath the crest overlooking the ocean. Even from this distance, she could tell they were emotionless over what they’d just done. Their lack of conscience turned her fear and sorrow into outright rage. There was no way she was following Mak’s fate.
Grabbing hold of the gun in one hand, she brought it up, her eyes trained on the men through the binoculars. The distance was great, but she trusted in the gun’s power. She fiddled with the safety, realizing Mak had already prepared the gun for her as if he knew she would be using it. Aiming with as much precision as her shaking hand allowed, she fired. The gun’s small kick jolted her arm back, the noise piercing her ears as it reverberated into an echoing ring. She physically felt the noise the gun produced in her chest.
Scrambling up for another look, the Asian man was now writhing on the ground holding his thigh. The other man looked up in her direction. She’d given herself away. He pulled his gun from his waistband and aimed it up in her location. With nothing to lose, Blythe pointed the gun again and fired, but all she heard was a vacant click. Out of ammunition. Panicked, she stood up and raced for the back of the lookout as the sound of a gunshot echoed in the air. A corner of the boulder she’d recently leaned on shattered; a close call averted. She followed the path that led to the other s
ide of the island, running in blind fury and adrenaline. She ran like she’d never run before, the blisters and gashes on her feet insignificant, her throbbing arm an afterthought. She would run until her legs were bloody stumps if she had to.
Running downhill, she spotted a fork in the trail ahead and knew one trail would lead her straight to the military encampment. ‘And then what?’ she thought. ‘Hide?’ No. He’d find her. Dread filled her to the brim at the possibilities of what he might do to her if he caught her. Now it was just the two of them. He could do anything he wanted and absolutely no one would ever know.
She had to get off this damn island once and for all.
In a split-second decision, she hung a sharp right, avoiding any suspicious lumps in the ground as she ran off the beaten path. She wove her way down the descending slope of the lookout, doubling back around to where the smuggler’s boat lay docked. If the one remaining man was after her, she may have a chance to escape in the powerboat. It was worth a try.
Full momentum forward, Blythe ran like these were her last moments on earth – because it very well might be. She saw movement to her right and her heart stopped. With her chest heaving and legs numb, she charged ahead, veering away from the movement. It was the thug without question and he’d caught her already.
“Stop,” came a cry from where she’d seen the movement.
Blythe raced on, not stopping for anything.
“Blythe, stop!” came another shout, sounding eerily familiar. Blythe slowed, confused. She stopped and pivoted toward the voice.
“It’s me!”
It took her a second to register that Mak stood in front of her, smiling from ear to ear. It was all so overwhelming. Seeing Mak alive instantly made her feel invigorated and energized. She ran toward him and kissed him, pouring her fears and relief into the kiss, giving him every emotion.
Her bottom lip quivered as her hands slipped around his waist. Mak brought her into an even tighter embrace as she sobbed in disbelief against his broad shoulder, letting her anxiety release. “I thought you were dead.”
Chief Distraction Page 15
