Emerald Fire

by Monica McCabe

  “There’s more,” her uncle said with a knowing look.

  She grimaced, but kept going. “Lisa claimed that I was working on your beneficiary list next, and I could forget about ever seeing a dime.” Chloe looked away from the hurt in his face, staring at the uneaten food on her plate. “I left without telling her I was flying down.”

  It grew quiet at the table, and she glanced up to spy a hard expression in her uncle’s eyes. “You know, friends have been warning me about her for some time, especially Sam Brady.” He glanced over at Finn. “What has Sam said to you?”

  “Just that you were his friend.”

  The hint of compassion in Finn’s tone took Chloe by surprise. She’d had to beg, barter, and threaten to get his cooperation. He’d been nothing but gruff since day one, which was actually just yesterday, come to think of it, but still.

  “Sam also told me not to come back until I find the Emerald Fire and solve the case,” Finn added with a half-laugh. “He doesn’t take failure very well.”

  “That’s why I pay his exorbitant insurance rates. SafeSail, too.” Her uncle finally started eating his lunch, but kept up a string of questions. “Did you have any trouble getting the GPS coordinates, Chloe?”

  She shook her head and followed her uncle’s lead by picking up her spoon and stirring the gumbo. “Once I provided the password, we had the location in a matter of minutes.”

  “Excellent.” He took another bite of lunch. “Since you two are here, I assume you have a plan?”

  She glanced over at her new partner. “Finn just finished explaining to me how he thinks the local police are dirty.”

  Her uncle didn’t even bat an eye. “Not surprised. Not enough tourism to float the economy around here.”

  “The plan I have is dicey,” Finn said.

  “Don’t care,” her uncle stated emphatically. “The bastards have my ship. I want it back. What’ve you got?”

  “The only option left,” Finn explained. “We steal it.”

  Her uncle sat back, crossing his arms and staring at Finn with something akin to respect. “That takes guts. Or absolute insanity. Which is it?”

  “Desperation,” Finn replied. “I need the paycheck that comes with the yacht’s recovery.”

  Uncle Jon stared at Finn as though he were trying to get a read on his capability. “You do this sort of thing often?”

  Finn shook his head. “I wouldn’t say often, but a stint in the Navy gave me a rather unique skill set that comes in handy once in a while.”

  Chloe wondered what exactly that involved, but decided not to rock the boat since her uncle seemed satisfied with Finn’s answer.

  “Okay,” Uncle Jon finally said. “When do we strike?”

  “Tonight.” Finn grabbed his sandwich.

  “I like it,” Uncle Jon said. “There’s only one condition.”

  “And that is?” Finn asked.

  “Chloe stays out of it.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “Not a chance!”

  “No way, honey. I’ve seen what those men are capable of, and you aren’t going anywhere near them.”

  She appreciated his protective instincts but refused to be set aside like some fragile flower while the menfolk went about battling the bad guys. “After all the self-defense classes you’ve put me through, the weapons training, and crazy fire drills, you know I can handle whatever is thrown my way.”

  Her uncle didn’t budge. “I put you through them because you sailed with me. I wouldn’t risk your safety without some guarantee you’d be able to handle yourself in times of crisis.”

  “Isn’t that what this is?” she argued. “A crisis? I’m prepared. Don’t even think you are leaving me behind.”

  “This isn’t make-believe, Chloe,” her uncle said adamantly. “It’s not training. It’s a group of hardened men who have no qualms about killing.”

  That part was definitely disconcerting. But her uncle knew what she did for a living, the specialized skills she’d developed to stay at the top of her game. He also knew she’d spent years chasing the truth about William Desmond. Why would he think she’d let third-world thieves stop her? She was much too close to step down now.

  “I’ve already agreed to follow Finn’s lead,” she said. “With you there, too, I’ll be fine. Besides, the Fire is on the chopping block, and there’s no time for other arrangements. And really, is it any safer for me to drive back to Santo Domingo alone? Get a flight out of here all by myself?” That was a bogus play. She’d traveled the world solo, and they both knew it.

  Her uncle and Finn stared at her in consternation. She offered them a smile. “The devil is in the details, right?”

  “You get more like your mother every day,” Uncle Jon declared. “Never could win an argument with her either.”

  “It’s settled then,” Finn said. “Eat up, me hearties. We’re going to be getting real busy.”

  Chapter 7

  Daylight was fading fast by the time the taxi pulled up to a remote beach house. Three gringo tourists decked out in Hawaiian print shirts, board shorts, and sandals piled out. Perfect island camouflage if you didn’t want to be noticed. Finn and Jonathan grabbed their backpacks while Chloe carried several plastic grocery bags and a brochure from Tropicana Properties. American stereotypes settling in for several days of beachfront access. Finn had called the rental company earlier and listened to their sales pitch, but all he needed to know was that it was empty and in close proximity to a certain boat repair shop.

  After Jonathan paid the driver’s fare, Finn led his questionable team down the driveway toward the rear of the bungalow. As rentals went, the owners had a lot of nerve calling it a beach cottage. The place was totally surrounded by woods. The so-called beach access cut a thick path through the trees. You couldn’t see the water or hear waves. Bad for tourists, but ideal for staging clandestine operations.

  Finn took a few deep breaths in an attempt to get a grip on what they were about to try to pull off. It was the craziest thing he’d ever contemplated for a bounty. Extreme measures to get the job done came with the territory, but fighting crime with crime? Raiding a pirate stronghold with nothing but a mule-headed historian and a pissed-off jeweler? Not his brightest idea. He just hoped to God none of them got killed.

  Once out of sight from the road, Finn tossed his duffle bag on a picnic table by the back patio door. Dusk had settled in, and the shadowy tree line made it even darker. With two miles to walk between here and the pirates, there was plenty of time for the necessary cover of darkness to set in.

  “All right,” he said, “let’s get changed and go over the plans.”

  Chloe tossed her bag up next to his and dug out the black outfit she’d bought at the market earlier today. Then she turned her amber-eyed gaze his way and frowned.

  He just quirked a brow at her and smiled.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “Smile. I’m not used to it.” She gestured her fingers in a circle. “Now turn around. Both of you.”

  Jonathan laughed at his niece, but both men obliged.

  “Your niece is a bit bossy,” Finn said.

  “It’s inherited. Her mother and I used to battle it out regularly while growing up. That didn’t stop as adults either.”

  Sounds drifted over Finn’s senses, teasing him. The slide of fabric as Chloe lifted her flowery shirt over her head, a belt unbuckling on those dainty little cotton Capri pants she wore. The temptation to turn around and peek was overwhelming. If they’d been alone, he would have done just that. Instead, he forced himself to focus on her uncle and not think about the feminine curves unveiling right behind him. Damn, but she was a dangerous distraction.

  To change the path of his thoughts, Finn began taking a mental evaluation of his gear. Flares, flashlights, semi-automatic with extra clips, navigation chart, and sunglasses for the days aboard the Fire sailing north. For the
heist of the century, he carried surprisingly little.

  “So you’ve done this before and succeeded, right?” Jonathan asked him.

  “Bearding pirates in their den?”

  “Yeah. I’m wondering how much to worry about our survival.”

  “It’s not going to be easy, if that’s what you’re asking. But if you start thinking about bullets and bloodthirsty criminals, you’ll choke. Keep the focus on getting to the Emerald Fire and sailing her out of here.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about.” Jonathan jerked his head toward the distraction behind them. “She’s too persistent for her own good. I made a promise to watch over her. Of course, at the time, I had no clue what I was getting into.”

  “Hey,” Chloe piped up. “Stop worrying about me. I told you I can take care of myself.”

  Finn had serious doubts about that. But she was right about one thing—time wasn’t on their side. Options were limited, and every minute that passed chipped away at the chance of recovery. It was strike now or go home empty-handed. And that kind of failure would be the end of his plans for NorthStar. Finance companies were blind to the potential of his business and refused to loan him money. It didn’t matter the land was a family hand-me-down, his free and clear. Nor did it matter he’d already sunk a sizeable amount into improving the property and historical buildings. Nope. He was on his own. He’d no choice but to go for it. But did he have the right to risk the lives of others in the process?

  “You can turn around now,” Chloe said.

  He did and drank in the sight that met him. Her form-fitting black clothing accentuated her smooth skin and highlighted her trim, toned body. Even with her hair pulled into a tight braid she looked sexy as hell. Guilt snaked in. He had no right to risk her life this way. As twilight settled around them, he suddenly realized he wanted her gone. Wanted her well away from the danger they were walking into.

  “It’s not too late, Chloe,” Finn said. “You and Jonathan can fly home and leave this part to me.”

  Her jaw hardened in that determined way he was beginning to recognize. She wasn’t going to take the easy route.

  “I told you from the beginning I’m not backing down, and I haven’t changed my mind.” She stuffed her tourist clothes into a bag as she spoke. “Quit stalling and get dressed. We’ve got ground to cover.”

  Jonathan laughed as he switched his island print button-down for a solid black T-shirt. “I swear, you and your mother are cut from the same cloth. She never walked away from a challenge either.”

  “This will be dangerous,” Finn kept trying. “The pirates will fight back.”

  “We know that,” Chloe said as she gathered her uncle’s discarded clothing. “But you aren’t the only one with something at stake here.”

  “Or a score to settle,” Jonathan added.

  Finn accepted defeat. They were an army of three. And he had no real plan other than get there, survey the scene, figure out how to access the yacht, and sail away. The words reckless and idiotic bounced around in his head. The problem of protecting Chloe worried him. But they were going for it, and it was time to act.

  “This operation will have to move fast.” Finn began arming himself with the new weapons. “No second thoughts, no hesitation. It can get you killed. Stay alert and stay low. Bullets will be flying. Understand?” He shot an apprehensive look straight at Chloe when he said it, and she frowned.

  “You do your job and I’ll do mine,” she said matter-of-factly. “Keep your focus. I got this.”

  Her words did nothing to reassure him. This wasn’t a situation he could control. But then she stepped closer, reached up, and pressed her palm to his cheek.

  “Stay safe,” she whispered. “I want you to come out of this alive, too.”

  The possibility behind those words intrigued him, and the warmth in her eyes made his gut tighten. Why would she say that? Just when he thought he might have a part of her figured out, she throws him for a loop with words that smacked of care and concern. What was she doing?

  Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded at her, and she moved away to the picnic table to finish packing.

  Finn shifted focus to Jonathan. “When we get to the ship, head straight for the bridge. We have to get her moving ASAP. You’re sure you can navigate the maze of waterways?”

  “Absolutely,” Jonathan replied with conviction. “I paid attention on the way in. If we can get to my ship, I can steer her to freedom.”

  “The ammunitions locker is fully stocked?”

  “As long as the damn pirates haven’t raided it,” Jonathan confirmed again.

  Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hoped Lady Luck was in a good mood. They were going to need her.

  “Surprise is our only advantage,” Finn wrapped up with the warning. “We need to keep it as long as we can. We’ve a two-mile hike along an inlet, and we need to travel in silence. We don’t know if they have guards along the path.”

  Chloe and Jonathan nodded in agreement as they slipped their backpacks on over their shoulders.

  “Okay then,” Finn said. “Let’s get moving.”

  * * * *

  From the protection of the woods, Finn stared at the compound through a small pair of binoculars. Boca Chica’s pirates only made a half-hearted effort to give their boat repair business the air of legitimacy. There were a few old boats scattered about a large clearing, but they hadn’t seen water in many a year. There was also a mega-sized metal warehouse that sat next to the water, three smaller outbuildings, and something that might be an office. At one time, it might have been a viable boat shop, but neglect had left all but the main building in a bad state of repair.

  There were four, no five, vehicles parked on the grounds and a scattering of meager yard lights. Employees, if you could call them that, looked more like battle-hardened men, seasoned pirates, certainly not the kind to tolerate a raid on their turf without retaliation. Finn tried to get a headcount, but it was too hard from this angle. They needed to move to the opposite side to get a better view of the grounds and activity at the dock.

  He signaled to Chloe and Jonathan, and the three of them melted back into the trees. After rounding to a better vantage point, they crept as close as possible to the forest edge and Finn began surveillance again.

  The water was more visible from this angle, and Finn scanned the long expanse of pier. Low-voltage lights were on each pylon, and though half of them weren’t working, it was enough to mark the outline. Several boats were moored, everything from small chaser skiffs to speedboats to large cabin cruisers. To the right of the pier sat another much shorter dock that led right to a shoreline warehouse with massive doors open to a dry dock lift. NorthStar had a similar set up.

  A pirate jumped into a Sea Ray sport cruiser, a thirty-five to thirty-eight footer from the look of it, tossed the mooring lines, and pushed it away from the dock before firing up the engine. He floated at a crawl to a metal platform where two scrawny men worked to cinch it into a cradle and engage a hydraulic lift. The cruiser cleared the water and began its slow journey through the doors and into dry dock hell.

  Light poured from the warehouse windows, and Finn could make out the framework where the boat would rest during its makeover. It took no time at all to strip a vessel of its identity. A new name, new paint, the heavy use of a grinder to file down the hull identification number, and the boat was ready for a wide-open black market. There were plenty of overseas oil barons who’d gladly dish out half the ship’s value in cash, no questions asked.

  A tap on his shoulder interrupted his study of the business.

  “Emerald Fire,” Chloe whispered and pointed out the obvious. The Fire was the only mega-yacht anchored at the pier and far too big for the dry dock system used here. Whatever transformation she’d get, it would be done while she floated. It was a safe bet she far exceeded the norm for this band of thieves. Which meant the gang wouldn’t take kindly to their
prize being stolen.

  Finn scanned the activity through his lens. Once they breached the pier, the Fire would be easy to board. The trick would be getting to it undetected. He roamed his sights over to the men who concentrated on getting the cruiser inside. He’d counted four, but knew there had to be more in the warehouse and likely another one or two elsewhere on the grounds. They were way outnumbered. If they were going to make it to the yacht, they needed a diversion. One that included a lot of noise and chaos to drown out the sound of her engines firing.

  He examined the grounds with the binoculars again and landed on a wooden building just across the compound. Surrounded by piles of used equipment, oil drums, and shipyard junk, it would have been unremarkable except for the sight of six or seven gas cans.

  He signaled Jonathan and Chloe, and they pulled back into the darkened forest.

  “We need to improve our odds,” Finn stated quietly. “There’s only three of us and too many of them. So here’s the plan—I think there’s enough fuel storage to light this place up. The explosion should divert at least some of them and limit the number who will give chase. You two should already be on board the yacht when the fireworks begin because that’s the moment you need to fire the engines and prepare to sail. If all goes well, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Jonathan stared at Finn, as though weighing the odds of success. In reality, it was the only option available to pull this off. Torching this den of thieves didn’t guarantee success, but it did give them a slight edge, and they needed every possible advantage.

  “Okay,” Jonathan finally agreed. “Chloe and I will disable as many of the boats along the way as we can. Less available for them to chase us with.”

  “Good,” Finn said. “Just don’t take too long to get to the Fire. And whatever you do, don’t get caught.”