by Melissa Good
Andrew held the door and waited for them to go ahead of him.
As they passed him, he turned to face Bob. “You mess with anything while them girls are over there, Ah will kill you.”
Bob stared at him.
“That is not a bluff, it’s a promise,” Andrew said quietly. He turned and closed the door after him.
Dar made her way down the ladder and into the solid black watercraft in which her father had arrived. It was a familiar sight: two incredibly tough rubber pontoons and a flexible but stiff inner structure, and engines that could probably propel a jet. It had hooks and catches everywhere that were intended for military use, not surprising since its primary purpose was to carry Navy SEALS into battle. She didn’t ask how Andrew had gotten it.
Dar turned and took hold of Kerry as she climbed down, keeping her steady as she joined her in the bottom of the craft. They were both in dark rain slickers, and Andrew was almost invisible as he made his way into the boat, causing it to rock under his weight.
He was dressed in full-length black neoprene, with a canvas vest buckled over it that held all sorts of things, including one waterproof case Dar knew usually housed a sidearm. The thought put a sudden prickle down her back, and she tried not to think about how dangerous the situation was.
DeSalliers sounded like he was capable of anything. Dar let out a slow breath, acknowledging the fear she was now feeling in her guts. But the fact was, her father was also capable of anything, and having him there shifted the odds, if not in their favor, at least more toward equality.
Andrew took a seat at the controls and started the powerful engines. “Want to let us loose, Dardar?”
“Sure.” Dar untied the craft and tossed the end of the rope up onto the Dixie. The waves were pitching up and down severely, but Terrors of the High Seas 303
apparently she’d gotten used to them because they didn’t disturb her much. Kerry, however, sat down on one of the hard seats and wrapped her arms and legs around the stanchions.
Andrew aimed the boat toward DeSalliers’ craft, visible as a brightly lit outline against the rain. “Here we go.”
Dar held on with one hand and put her free hand on Kerry’s shoulder. She leaned close to her ear. “Scared?” Kerry turned, and Dar knew she was looking up at her even though the darkness made her features invisible.
“Yes.”
“Me too,” Dar replied. “My knees are shaking so badly I don’t want to sit down in case I can’t get up again.”
Kerry laughed faintly. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”
She squeezed Dar’s hand. “If you are, it’s working.”
Dar pressed her cheek against Kerry’s. “I love you.”
Kerry smiled, a motion Dar could feel against her skin. “That works even better,” she admitted. “I love you too.”
“We’re gonna be fine,” Dar went on. “But if you want to stay in the boat with Dad, it’s okay, Ker. I’m not joking. I know this is scary as hell, and it’s no reflection on you if you want to stay here.”
It was so tempting. The thought of staying at Andrew’s very, very safe side was so enticing, Kerry could almost feel the agreement tickling the back of her throat. However, the image of her waiting in the darkness while Dar went into danger alone was far more horrific. “Thanks for the offer,” she turned her head and kissed Dar, “but where you go, I go. I’d croak from anxiety if you left me here.”
Dar nodded, as though she had fully expected Kerry’s answer.
“Okay.” They watched the boat grow larger and larger in front of them. “I need to play tough with him, because of the twenty five thousand.”
Kerry nodded. “I know.”
“So, if I sound like I don’t give a damn about Bud, it’s for a reason.”
Kerry patted her hand. “Honey, I know that. If you didn’t give a crap about Bud, you wouldn’t be here,” she said. “I’ll back you up, whatever you do or say. I trust you.”
“Even if I walk out?”
Kerry drew in a breath. “I’m with you, no matter what.”
As the motor slowed its rhythm, Dar straightened up.
DeSalliers’ boat swam in her vision, armed men visible on the stern deck.
“Paladar, those fellers have rifles,” Andrew said suddenly.
“I know, Dad,” Dar acknowledged. “We’ll be careful.”
“Ah do not like this,” Andrew objected. “Ah do not like this one bit.”
304 Melissa Good Dar clenched her hands on the grips that lined the edge of the boat. “Neither do I, Dad, but I can’t leave Bud there. What else can we do?”
Andrew frowned at the approaching vessel. “You listen here,”
he said, suddenly. “I signal you duck, you do it, hear?” He took hold of Dar’s arm. “Ah am not fooling, Dar.”
Dar could see the utter seriousness in his eyes. “I hear,” she repeated. “Be careful.”
The big ex-SEAL snorted. “You all be careful or else ah’m going to be spanking the both of you for a long time.”
“We’ll be okay.” Kerry stood up as they neared the back of the boat, which was pitching up and down nauseatingly. “We’ll keep their attention, Dad. See if you can cause them some trouble while we do, okay?”
“Ah will give them trouble,” Andrew muttered, pulling the boat even with the deck and holding his position. “Ah will blow that god damned thing up and out of this here ocean if that feller so much as tweaks any of your toenails.”
Dar took a deep breath. ‘Here we go.”
“Paladar Katherine, you be careful,” her father said suddenly.
“Please.”
Dar felt a little warmth spread in her guts. “I will, Dad.” She reached for the ladder hanging down from the stern of the huge boat, ignoring the armed men watching her from above. Now that it was happening, she felt some of her nervousness drop away as it was replaced by adrenaline. Her nerves steadied, and she felt her heart rate slow as she climbed up to the pitching deck.
She put her hands on the top railing and pressed her body over in a swift, easy motion, forcing the guards to move back or else be slammed into. Dar took a step forward, her body blocking access to the ladder in order to give Kerry time to climb on board.
“Only one of you,” the man nearest her said suddenly. “Tell the other one to get lost.”
Dar turned as Kerry’s head emerged over the top of the ladder.
Ignoring the guard completely, she offered Kerry a hand over,.
“I said—”
“Shut up.” Dar pinned him with a hard stare. “Either we both come, or we both leave. You choose.” She watched him hesitate.
“Pick!” she added in a loud bark.
He backed up a step and Kerry climbed down and joined Dar on the deck, brushing off her rain slicker. Dar took a breath. “All right.” She caught her balance on the heaving stern. “Let’s go.”
The guards looked over the side as the engines on the watercraft gunned and it backed away from the yacht. The guard captain regained his attitude. “Who is that?”
“My canoe paddler,” Dar told him. “Now, are we going inside, Terrors of the High Seas 305
or should I just call him back?”
The guard gazed at her. “I didn’t forget you from last time, bitch. You’ll pay for that before you leave.” He gestured with the gun barrel toward the door to the yacht’s cabin. “If you leave.”
Dar and Kerry walked past him. Three guards fell in behind them, guns held at the ready. It was too late to turn back.
ANDREW RAN THE watercraft back to the Dixie, and fastened it to the line he’d left in the water for that purpose. He slipped his slimline tank on, adjusted his mask, and entered the water in barely the time it took to think about it.
Under the surface, the conditions were a lot easier. He could feel the pull of the waves above him, but they didn’t impede his progress, and he finned quickly toward the other boat. The sound of the hull breeching the water guided him, hi
s light left unlit on his belt. No sense in advertising.
He could sense the boat near him and he went vertical, pulling out his new gadgets and fitting them to his hands. Carefully, he approached the hull of the boat and extended one arm, feeling the jolt as it contacted the fiberglass. “Gotcha.”
He triggered the lock and hung on as the boat nearly heaved him out of the water. “Hell.” Andrew got his other hand up quickly and latched on, hanging from both hands as the boat rolled. He waited for the hull to dip back down into the water, then released his first hand and stretched higher, moving up the surface like an extremely large spider.
Inside the door to the cabin, Dar paused, ignoring the prodding from the guard behind her. She checked out the room, then walked inside, keeping a light hand on Kerry’s back. DeSalliers was standing near the bar, and three men holding guns were stationed around the room.
Dar’s lips twitched into a feral smile. “Six guys with rifles?”
She glanced between herself and Kerry. “I’m flattered.”
“I feel so dangerous,” Kerry added, folding her arms over her chest. “And I’m not even wearing my brown belt.”
“Shut up.” DeSalliers waved three of the guards out. “You’re empty handed, Roberts. I thought you were smarter than that, but on second thought, I should have realized you aren’t.”
Dar deliberately turned her back on him, strolling across the cabin’s interior to study one of the maps on the wall. “I’m not empty handed; you’re empty headed.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Here’s my deal: you show me Bud.”
“This is not your deal,” DeSalliers interrupted. “Now you just shut up and listen to me.”
“No!” Dar turned and walked right past the gun barrel of one 306 Melissa Good of the guards. “You listen to me, you scumbag.” She felt her temper rise, and a rush of energy filled her body. “You want the information I have? Do you? Otherwise, I’ll just walk out of here and sell it to the highest bidder.”
“You don’t have shit.”
“Don’t I?” Dar smiled. “ You’re wrong about that. I know about the poaching.” She ticked off one of her fingers. “I know Wharton cut a deal with the locals.” She paused and waited. DeSalliers now watched her with lethal, bitter silence. “I know about the will. So, you jackass—if you want what I’ve got, then you do what I say and it’s yours.”
DeSalliers’ entire face twitched.
“You’ve only got two days before your loans default,” Kerry broke in. “If I were you, I’d just salvage what I could out of this.”
The man stared at her. “You don’t know shit.”
“Sure I do.” Kerry kept an even, almost kind tone. “It’s all in a database somewhere. You realized that, didn’t you? Public debt filings.”
DeSalliers snorted softly. “Yeah. That’s how you ruined your old man, isn’t it? Killed him, didn’t it?”
It was like taking a spear in the gut. Kerry only just clamped down on her emotions and somehow managed to keep her expression unchanged. “Yes, it is,” she answered. “I’d gladly do the same to you.”
Dar dealt with the realization that if she’d had a gun in her hand at that moment, she would have shot DeSalliers without a moment’s regret. “So, here’s the deal,” she repeated. “You show me Bud. You give me a transfer account, and I’ll transfer your skunk money. Then I give you your smoking gun, and you let Bud go.”
DeSalliers watched her from narrowed eyes. He remained silent for a minute, then very, very slowly, he nodded in agreement.
“How do I know you’ve got a smoking gun?”
“Because I say I do,” Dar told him. “You’re not worth lying to, and Wharton’s not worth lying for.”
The tall man’s head cocked slightly to one side. “Fucking amazing. We finally agree on something.” He walked over to the window, keeping them guessing as to what his answer would be.
“Tell me something first.” He turned. “What is your real percentage in this, Roberts?”
Leaning against a bulkhead, Dar ears picked up a soft clanking somewhere nearby. “I’ve already told you,” she said. “You just don’t believe me.”
“That you stumbled on this by accident?” DeSalliers laughed bitterly. “ You’re right. I don’t. He pointed at one of the guards.
“Bring the piece of scum up here.”
Kerry released the breath she was holding and wished for a Terrors of the High Seas 307
glass of water. Her insides were churning so badly, she felt like a washing machine. She forced herself to move slowly and casually, wandering back across the cabin to end up next to Dar again. Her eyes met her partner’s, and for a brief moment Dar’s mask dropped and Kerry saw sympathy and regret in the pale blue eyes watching her. Kerry tensed her lips in acceptance and patted Dar’s hip as she came to a halt beside her. So far, she decided, the plan seems to be working. She prayed to God it stayed that way.
ANDREW SLOWLY LIFTED his head above the edge of the hull and peered across it. It was empty. The guards had clustered on the stern, out of the storm, exactly what he’d been hoping for. With a light sniff, he released one of his grips and removed it, sticking it in its pouch and transferring his hand to the railing. He repeated the motion with the other one, then pulled himself up and over onto the deck.
He lay there a moment, listening and catching his breath.
“Ah’m too damn old to be doing this,” he muttered to himself. The deck remained silent, so he lifted himself up and snaked across the top of it to the two prominent hatches set in its center. Then he lay back down and examined the hatches.
With a soft grunt, he fished in a vest pocket and drew out a slim tool. He slipped the edge of it under the hatch and pried gently upward near the hinge, working the fiberglass cover back and forth.
With a soft crack, the hinge broke. Andy left it as it was and eased to the other side of the hatch, working on the next hinge point.
A soft creak sounded a warning, and he pressed his body against the hull and listened. Someone was coming along the railing toward the bow. Andrew cursed silently but remained very still, tensing his muscles as he watched the space between the cabin and the railing. A man wandered through it and leaned on the rail, watching the waves. Even after a few minutes, he didn’t seem inclined to move on. Andrew put his hands on the surface of the hull and pushed himself upward, getting silently to his feet and rising to his full height behind the man. He paced forward even with the roll of the boat until he was just behind his target.
The man had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Andrew studied him for a brief moment, then balled his hand into a fist and slugged the man in the back of the neck. With a soft choking sound, the guard’s knees buckled. Andrew stripped away the rifle and dropped it into the water, then debated throwing the man in after it. Wouldn’t have been the first time, by any means.
With a faint sigh, he dragged the man over to the edge of the bow instead, and laid him down on the curve. Then he went back to 308 Melissa Good the hatch and dropped down next to it, easing the edge up and peering underneath.
THE GUARDS DRAGGED Bud up to the edge of the steps that led to the cabins of the boat and held him in Dar’s view. Bud’s eyes were swollen shut and his face was covered in bruises. He didn’t appear to be conscious of what was going on around him.
“You’re a nice host.” Kerry kept her voice even.
DeSalliers laughed. “He probably enjoyed it. He’s the type.” He motioned to the guard. “Put him back until I call you again.” He seemed to be in a slightly better humor now. “Here’s the numbers.”
He handed Dar a slip of paper.
Dar was still gazing at the doorway, seeing the beaten form in her mind’s eye. She took the paper and stared at it. “Blood money.”
She took out her cell phone and accessed its web features.
DeSalliers watched her. “Must be killing you,” he taunted.
“Loser.”
Pale blue eyes fastened on him.
Dar handed the paper back.
“It’s done. It’ll process when the banks open tomorrow.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
Dar shrugged. “DeSalliers, it’s pocket change,” she said. “It just means a bit more of your crap I have to clean off my shoes.”
“Pocket change?”
“Actually,” Kerry spoke up, having to say something to keep from throwing up, “it’s the budget for table mints for Dar’s outer office.” She paused thoughtfully. “For six months.”
DeSalliers looked at her, then looked back at the paper with a shake of his head.
The guard returned and leaned against the door, watching Dar and Kerry with scornful eyes.
DeSalliers crumpled up the paper and tossed it. “Enough bullshit. Hand it over.” He held out a hand towards Dar. “You’re polluting my boat and I want you off it, along with your disgusting faggot friend.”
Dar reached behind her and unzipped her pocket. She withdrew the folded piece of plastic and tossed it at DeSalliers almost casually, zinging it across the cabin and hitting him in the chest with it. “There,” she said. “Now get Bud up here, and we’ll be more than glad to vacate this shit hole.”
DeSalliers unfolded the plastic and leaned over to read it, bringing it to the light. “You can’t think I’d go for th…” He stopped speaking for a moment. Then he slowly looked up at Dar. “Well.”
He seemed a bit incredulous. “Imagine that. You told the truth.”
Dar felt extremely tired, and she wanted nothing more than to get Kerry, herself, Bud, and presumably her father off the damn Terrors of the High Seas 309
boat and out of that patch of water. “Yeah. So give me what I want and you can go crack a bottle of bad champagne over it.”
Their host folded the paper and put it into his pocket, patting it with one hand. Then he removed his cell and dialed a number.
“When I’m ready.” He smirked at Dar as he waited for the call to process. “I want a chance to savor having beaten you.”
Kerry let her hand rest against Dar’s back. It was almost over.
The tension had given her a migraine to compete with her already upset stomach, and she felt like walking over and kicking DeSalliers right in the shins.
