Capture of the Defiance

by S. E. Smith

  She stared out the window, watching the whitecaps dance across the windblown bay. In the distance, she could see large freight ships moored, the skeletal frames of the cranes shifting the huge cargo containers and readying them for shipping. They looked alien against the landscape. A part of her mind processed the movement and she was amazed at how the dock workers could move such heavy containers with ease.

  The other part was locked in a memory from three years ago. A shaft of pain pierced her and she briefly closed her eyes. Brian had been the only man she had ever allowed inside the wall she had built to protect herself – well, Tyrell and him. Her love for Tyrell was different. Their journey, and near death, had sealed their bond on a different, more spiritual level. They understood each other and accepted each other without fear of being rejected or ridiculed.

  Makayla gazed out the window with sightless eyes, caught in the thread of memories. She had returned to Henry’s house after graduating from high school and finishing her Associate of Arts degree at the local college. She had been taking online summer courses toward her Bachelor’s degree, plus working with Henry down at the boatyard.

  Brian had returned home for a short break before he was supposed to leave on an assignment. He’d had a new job working for some government agency she had never heard of before. He hadn’t told her much about it, just that it would be a huge boost to his career and allow him to do some traveling abroad.

  The budding, sometimes tense, attraction they had felt had grown, at least on her part. As much as she had tried to protect herself, Brian’s sense of humor and gentle touch had awakened a feeling inside her that had left her excited and uncertain at first. As the summer had progressed, their love had grown and they had become lovers. It had been Makayla’s first serious relationship and when they had broken up, it had left more than a few emotional scars behind.

  Makayla blinked, pushing away the memories. She glanced at the sign when Brian turned onto Eastern Harbour Crossing. She frowned, trying to see where they were going. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t seen very much of Hong Kong or the surrounding area.

  “Where are we going?” Tyrell asked, leaning forward with a frown.

  “Lei Yue Mun,” Brian replied, glancing at him.

  *.*.*

  Makayla paused before sliding her hand into Brian’s when he opened the back door of the car and extended one hand to help her out. She grabbed his backpack at the same time, gripping the handle at the top. He reached over and took it from her, swinging the strap over his shoulder before reclaiming her hand.

  She gazed around in awe. The narrow patch of land between a rugged forest-covered mountain and the bay was wall to wall buildings of all shapes, sizes, and building materials. The delicious smells of food mixed with the cool breeze blowing off the water. The weather front had cleared just as the weather channel had predicted and the late afternoon sky was a brilliant blue.

  Along the shoreline, junks, sailboats, houseboats, and fishing boats littered the water as if a child had tossed an armful of toy boats into a bathtub, unsure of which one he or she wanted. She stumbled on the uneven ground, mesmerized by the sights, smells, and sounds of the village. It was a mixture of modern and old – creating an ageless scene.

  There were a large number of tourists combined with the local residents strolling amid the numerous shops and restaurants. Several old men, their fingers stained from the cigarettes they were holding and their brown faces lined with wrinkles, sat at rickety wooden tables playing a game with pebbles, loudly talking and laughing while pigeons and seagulls fluttered around them, hoping to pick up a discarded tidbit from a passing diner.

  “Are you okay?” Brian murmured, glancing down at her even as he pulled her closer.

  “It’s fascinating,” she breathed, glancing up at the buildings. “I can’t help but think that building code enforcement would have a field day here, not to mention the local Health and Fire Department. Yet, it is perfect,” she added, waving a hand outward toward the scene in front of her.

  Brian chuckled. “The food is some of the best, and freshest, in the world,” he said.

  “I’m sure,” she acknowledged, wiggling her nose when she saw a young couple pick out a fresh fish, which was quickly wrapped in newspaper and handed to them, before walking into a restaurant behind the vendor. “Your friend lives here?” She asked, turning to look around him to the other side when they cut through a narrow slit between two buildings.

  “Yes,” he said, stepping onto an uneven dock that looked like it was about ready to collapse.

  “I hope this is sturdier than it looks,” Helen murmured, looking critically at the dock lined with old Junks, a traditional Chinese sailing boat designed and used primarily in the local waters that looked like they were one storm away from sinking.

  “This is awesome,” Tyrell muttered, raising the camera he had pulled out of his backpack and taking several shots. “The lighting, colors, and mixture of nature and humanity is awesome.”

  Brian glanced over his shoulder and smiled with reassurance at Helen before focusing on where he was going. Makayla decided that was a smart idea. She tightly gripped Brian’s hand when the board under her foot moved.

  “Uh, Tyrell, you might want to watch where you are going,” Makayla called out when she glimpsed Helen grabbing Tyrell’s jacket.

  Brian paused when he reached the end of the dock. A large, beautifully restored junk with polished wood sat like a diamond among a pile of coal. It was obvious whoever owned this yacht had lovingly focused exacting attention to every detail when restoring it.

  “Oh, man, I have got to do a photoshoot of this boat,” Tyrell breathed, staring at the gleaming yacht.

  Brian stepped onto the boat, keeping a firm grip on Makayla’s hand before turning to help her cross the narrow span gap between the dock and the boat. He released her hand and assisted Helen next, cautioning them not to touch anything, including the railing. Tyrell followed at a slower pace, his mind still caught up in the images he wanted to capture. Makayla glanced at Brian and watched him shift the backpack on his shoulder and gaze warily down the companionway.

  “What…?” Helen started to say when Brian shook his head and held out his arm to stop her from moving any further onto the boat.

  “He has a very advanced security system,” Brian muttered under his breath. “He’ll let us know when we can go any further.”

  Makayla’s eyes widened when a man in his early thirties suddenly appeared. His bright blue eyes glittered with wry amusement when he glanced at Brian before they turned to Helen and her. His expression quickly changed to appreciation and curiosity while he studied the two women. His eyes narrowed questioningly when he glanced over at Tyrell.

  The man was wearing a pair of Bermuda shorts and a Jimmy Buffet T-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. His tan feet were bare despite the chilly weather and his sandy brown hair looked like he had just been in a wind tunnel. Her gaze flickered to his hands. He was holding what looked like a remote in one hand and a gun in the other.

  “Brian, my man, what brings you here with two such beautiful women? I have to tell you, my hope for something extremely pleasurable quickly faded when I saw the heat you were packing,” the man said with a wry smile and he jerked his head toward Tyrell. “Who’s the camera buff?”

  “I need your help, Kevin,” Brian admitted, still not moving forward. “Can we come aboard?” He asked, glancing cautiously around.

  “Oh, sure,” Kevin replied with a wave of the hand holding the remote. “Come on in. I was expecting a delivery. I ordered plenty.”

  As if by magic, a young boy came running down the uneven dock toward them. They turned when the boy reached the end of the dock with two large bags in his hands. Makayla listened while the boy breathlessly rambled something in Cantonese. Kevin replied, sounding as if he was arguing with the boy. The two went back and forth for several long minutes before Kevin muttered a low curse under his breath and pull
ed some money out of his shorts’ pocket.

  Makayla blinked, wondering what he had done with the gun he was holding. His shorts didn’t look tight enough around the waist to hold the weight of a gun. Helen’s muffled chuckle told her that she had understood everything that Kevin had said.

  “You are going to corrupt the boy,” Helen remarked with a slightly amused hint of reproach.

  Kevin flashed Helen a grin and shook his head. “That dock rat was born corrupt. He’d steal me blind while I was looking if I got too close to him and I wouldn’t even know it,” he retorted, holding up the two bags. “I hope you are hungry because I am!”

  Brian motioned for Tyrell, Helen, and Makayla to follow Kevin across the deck and down the companionway. Makayla’s breath caught. If she thought the ninety plus foot junk had been beautifully restored on the outside, it was nothing compared to what it looked like on the inside.

  Rich wood, shining stainless steel and brass, leather, and fine silk adorned a luxurious but masculine interior. An electric fire burned in an ornate fireplace and soft jazz music came through hidden speakers. On the wall, a basketball game with the sound muted was playing.

  Kevin pointed the remote to the television. The TV turned off and the screen disappeared behind the fireplace, revealing what looked suspiciously like a Marc Chagall painting. She swallowed and looked around the room with a more critical eye. Whoever Kevin was, the guy had some serious money.

  “That just isn’t right,” Tyrell mumbled with a shake of his head, staring in awe at the interior. “This is sure a lot fancier than the Defiance, Makayla. If you’d had this, I wouldn’t have ever nagged you about taking me back.”

  “Henry would have killed me if I stole something this nice,” Makayla retorted.

  “Anyone want a beer?” Kevin asked, placing the two bags on a bar set up to one side of the lounge area and grabbing two beers out from the refrigerator under it and holding them up. “I also have wine or the hard stuff.”

  “Hell, yeah, what kind do you have?” Tyrell replied with a grin, shrugging his backpack off and placing it on the floor near a large saltwater fish tank before rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  “Water,” Makayla and Helen both said at the same time.

  “I’ll take a beer, too. Any kind is good with me,” Brian grunted out, sliding the backpack off his arm and placing it next to a white leather sofa.

  Makayla watched him casually reach under his jacket and slide his gun into the holster he had strapped to his belt. She started forward when Kevin placed several plates and some silverware on the bar. Silently picking them up, she carried them over to the table and set it while Helen carried the drinks over.

  Several minutes later, they were all seated around the table. It was almost surreal in a way. They had been shot at and running for their lives the last two days and now they were sitting down having a delicious dinner on a million dollar junk with priceless paintings, jazz music, and a cozy fire. She couldn’t help it when she slipped her hand down under the table to pinch her leg to make sure she wasn’t having some kind of bizarre dream or hallucinating.

  She glanced down at her plate, her fork suspended in midair when she felt the small stab of pain. No, she wasn’t dreaming. Her gaze lifted when Brian casually poured a small amount of red wine into the wine glass that Kevin had placed in front of each of their plates.

  “I’m Kevin Conner, by the way, resident bum of this floating palace,” Kevin replied with a decidedly British accent and an easy grin, raising his glass of beer in salute.

  “This is Makayla Summerlin and Detective Helen Woo. This giant is Tyrell Richards,” Brian introduced before taking a bite of the fish on his plate. “This is good.”

  “Of course it is,” Kevin replied, staring back and forth with a puzzled frown between the two women and Tyrell. “My curiosity is now completely engaged. Does Makayla work for…?” He started to ask when Brian interrupted him.

  “No, she is a friend,” Brian said in a rather abrupt tone.

  “Okay, now I’m really fascinated,” Kevin replied with a grin before turning his attention to Helen. His expression remained the same, but Makayla could see the wariness in his eyes. “So, what brings the Hong Kong police to my humble abode?”

  “Hardly humble, Mr. Conner,” Helen replied, looking around the room. Her gaze paused on several of the paintings, including the Chagall hanging over the fireplace. “What do you do for a living, Mr. Conner?” She asked, returning her gaze to Kevin.

  “A little bit of this and that, all legal,” he hastily added. “I have a phobia of dark, dirty cells.”

  Helen’s eyebrow rose and she studied him for several long seconds. Makayla’s lips twitched with humor when she saw Kevin move uncomfortably in his chair. He picked up his glass of beer and drained it before rising with a muttered question if anyone wanted another one.

  “Are we talking the Kevin Conner? The guy that invented the NoVac satellite security system?” Tyrell asked with a frown, staring across the table at Kevin.

  “Yes,” Kevin replied before he froze and looked at Tyrell with wide eyes. “Are you the Tyrell Richards from the National Geographic magazines?”

  “The one and only,” Tyrell replied with a grin.

  “I sponsored your trip to Bora Bora last year,” Kevin replied with a deep laugh. “The way you capture an image is unbelievable. I feel like I can reach into the magazine and touch it.”

  Makayla listened while Brian, Tyrell, and Kevin talked about the different places they had been, some of Tyrell’s favorite photo shoots, and sports. Between the delicious food and wine, the soft, mellow music, and the warmth of the fire, she could feel the tension of the day seeping out of her body, leaving her drained. A glance at Helen told her that the detective was feeling the same way.

  “Brian, Tyrell, and I will take care of the dishes. Why don’t you ladies relax and put your feet up,” Kevin suggested with a pointed look at Brian who nodded in agreement.

  “I’m not about to turn that down,” Makayla replied, covering her mouth when a yawn escaped her.

  “Neither will I,” Helen murmured, surprised when Kevin stepped behind her and pulled the chair out when she started to rise. “Thank you,” she said with a slightly suspicious expression.

  “My pleasure,” Kevin replied, sliding the chair back under the table once she had stepped to the side. “My mother always raised her boys to be gentlemen.”

  “I’m impressed,” Helen murmured politely, walking over to the couch.

  “Your mother…?” Brian muttered dryly under his breath with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you were an only child.”.”

  “Shut up,” Kevin mumbled, grabbing the dirty plates off the table.

  Makayla chuckled and walked over to where Helen was sitting. She sank down onto the chair across from her, bending to unlace her boots before setting them next to the chair. Helen had removed her short boots, as well, and had curled her legs up beside her on the couch, her head tiredly resting against the palm of her hand.

  “Who do you think those men were?” Makayla finally asked, staring into the fire.

  Helen released a sigh and leaned her head back against the cushioned headrest. “They were professionals. The way they moved in formation spoke of military training,” she reflected in a thoughtful voice. “The weapons they were carrying were not standard issue. I need to see if I can access the database and run the plate numbers I photographed. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good enough look at any of the men.”

  “What about the man who shot me?” Makayla asked. “I gave the paper to Brian. If you had a database of suspects, mug shots, maybe I could pick him out.”

  “That would help. I know that Brian brought his laptop,” Helen started to say before she covered her mouth when another yawn escaped her. “I’m sorry. I’ve had very little sleep in the last forty-eight hours and it is beginning to catch up with me.”

  “I know. I hope the guys finish the dishes befor
e we both fall asleep. I swear Kevin couldn’t make it any harder to stay awake. I really shouldn’t have had the wine, either. That isn’t helping,” Makayla murmured, pulling her legs up and turning in the oversized chair so she could lay her head against the soft leather.

  Both women were silent, more from exhaustion than being deep in thought. Within minutes, that exhaustion had claimed them. Neither one heard the soft footsteps of the men, nor felt it when they were picked up and carried further down into the luxurious boat to the bedrooms below deck.

  16

  Brian slid the rolling chair closer to the bank of computers in the small staging room that Kevin had set up below deck. The room was almost the size of Brian’s small apartment and contained a sophisticated network of servers with a wall of computer screens. Tyrell had volunteered to take a stroll along the shops. He was taking photos and keeping an eye out for anyone who might appear suspicious. While they didn’t believe anyone knew about Tyrell, they decided it would be good to have him keep an eye out just in case.

  Brian had quietly explained what had happened the previous two days while they cleaned up the dishes. When they were finished, they returned to the salon to find the women sound asleep. A soft, concerned smile curved Brian’s lips when he saw the dark shadows under Makayla’s eyes.

  Brian and Kevin had quickly settled the women in two of the bedrooms below deck. Then Tyrell had quietly murmured he would be back later. Brian grabbed his backpack from the salon and joined Kevin in his office. One row of computers to the left continually monitored the numerous cameras and heat sensitive monitors that Kevin had installed both above and below the water. Most of the old junks moored along the dock belonged to Kevin, decoys to keep any unwanted visitors from trying to sneak aboard to either kidnap him or try to rob him. Brian had eventually learned each boat was rigged with explosives that Kevin could set off with a touch on his watch or the remote that he carried.