by Kate Kinsley
Jase
Sitting here with my arms wrapped around Beca…I’ve never felt so comfortable. She is everything I could possibly want in a woman. Amazing how fate works – I was so close to not coming on this trip. If I hadn’t, I would have never met my fiery redhead.
The crew begins to scurry around the decks, and within a few minutes, the boat floats away from the dock. The expensive houses lining the shore get smaller and smaller as we drift further away. Beca’s head is resting on my chest and every once in a while, she’ll let out a content sigh. It warms my heart.
Her friends are sitting across from us, and I catch them glancing over once in a while, but they choose to give us space. I make eye contact with the blonde…what’s her name? Savanna? Susanna? Whoever. A ghost of a smile appears on her face. She gives me a silent nod of approval and goes back to her conversation with the other two girls.
As we enter open waters, Dalton and Ava wander over, taking a seat next to Beca. The yacht picks up speed, and the shoreline becomes a spot in the distance. “This yacht is gorgeous,” she marvels as she lifts her head off my chest.
“Isn’t it? It was really generous of the MTA to pay for this trip and send us on a day tour on a huge yacht,” Ava boasts.
“MTA?” I glance over at Dalton, who shrugs his shoulders. “Something you want to mention, Dalton?”
“You didn’t tell him?” Ava scolds.
He chuckles. “Nah, I wanted him to think I was paying for this shindig.” Leaning forward, he squares his shoulders and faces me. “Remember the hijacking incident in New York City a few months back?” I nod. “Well, since me and Dude saved everyone on the train, they thought it fitting to reward us.”
“He was amazing,” Ava gushes, snuggling closer to Dalton. “He stopped the train from crashing by swinging on a rope hanging out of a helicopter.”
“A helicopter?” Beca whispers in awe. Christ, here we go.
“Yeah,” he admits nonchalantly. “The door was locked from the inside and I needed to get into the engine room to stop the train.”
“He was so brave. He’s my hero,” she smiles, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Dalton grins and gives me a wink.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
If his head got any bigger, he wouldn’t fit through the cabin doors.
I decide to change the subject before his skull actually explodes. “Then where’s Dude?” I ask, raising a brow.
“He’s on deployment and couldn’t make it, so I asked Cookie to come instead.”
“So where do I fit into all this?”
Beca leans toward Dalton, waiting for an answer.
“Last deployment was rough on you. On us. I thought you could use a vacation.” It’s true. That last time we went over to Afghanistan was a doozy.
I wasn’t sure I was going to make it back.
But, I did.
That last trip was one of the reasons I never got serious with anyone. I didn’t want that for anyone – to love me and have me come home in a wooden box.
My feelings for Beca, though…I’m willing to risk it. It’ll give me a reason to make sure I make it back in one piece.
“What happened?” Beca interrupts my thoughts. Before I can answer, Dalton intervenes. “Oh, normal military bullshit. Right, Jase?”
“Yup.” Looking at Beca, I catch Dalton in my peripheral vision. He gives me a subtle nod. He knows it’s not a conversation we can have with any civilians, and I’m thankful she can’t know what we did.
What I did.
“Where is Cookie?” I ask, looking around the deck.
“He and Fiona went to explore the boat,” Ava informs me.
“Why don’t we go get our girls another drink?” Dalton suggests as he pries himself from Ava and stands.
“Be right back,” I whisper to Beca, then kiss her on the temple. Standing, I follow Dalton. Once we’re out of earshot, I thank him.
“No sweat,” he answers, giving me a pat on the back. “No one should know about what we went through in that hellhole. Especially not the women we love.”
“You can tell, huh?” I mutter as we walk through the main cabin toward the table with the champagne.
He shrugs. “Man, watching you two is almost as pitiful as watching me and Ava.” He chuckles, then reaches for a glass.
“Yeah. You guys are pretty pathetic.” As I’m reaching for a glass, something out on the water in the distance catches my attention. Another decent sized boat is heading straight for us, and not slowing down in the least.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Something in my gut tells me this isn’t normal.
“Yo, Cap. Look over there.” Without drawing attention, I motion behind him. Pretending to glance around the upper deck, he sees what I’m talking about.
“What the hell is that?” he growls low in his throat.
“You gettin’ that feeling too?”
“Yeah. Let’s go below deck. I want to be out of sight in case something goes down.” Placing the glasses back on the table, we hightail it down the stairs. As we reach the bottom, we nearly run over Cookie and Fiona.
“Where’s the fire?” he asks, confused.
“We’ll explain in a minute,” Dalton says as he grabs his arm. “Just follow us.”
The four of us go below deck and move to the galley kitchen. The window is large enough to see out of, although too small to escape from if need be. I take lookout while Dalton explains to Cookie what we saw.
“Christ, we’re on a boat. There are other boats on the ocean. Don’t you think you’re being paranoid?” he whispers.
“My gut doesn’t lie,” I mutter, still looking out the rectangular window.
“What do you see?” Dalton asks as he leans over my shoulder.
“Not much, but the boat is still heading straight for us.” As the last word exits my lips, the yacht suddenly shifts course and we’re thrown backward. I try to keep my footing, but I’m tossed and land hard against the island in the center of the galley. Dalton was off to my side and winds up on the floor at the entrance.
“What the fuck,” Dalton mutters as he picks himself up off the hardwood.
“Shit, that hurt.” Reaching around, I rub my lower back where it hit the island. “Still think I’m being paranoid now?” I move toward the window and see more splash coming from the side of the yacht than was there before. “We’ve picked up speed.”
“They’re gonna try and outrun the other boat?” Cookie asks, moving to check on Fiona.
“It appears so,” Dalton answers as he runs his fingers through his short hair.
Cookie pulls Fiona into an embrace. “I’m fine,” she reassures him. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about everyone topside if this is what I think it is.”
“There aren’t pirates in this part of the Caribbean. Are there?” I ponder aloud.
“There’s not supposed to be,” Dalton answers. “But that didn’t look like a Somali boat.”
“I swear, Dalton. You’re a disaster magnet,” I grumble, gritting my teeth. “We need to go get the girls.”
“At this point, they’re safer where they are. We need to figure out who the fuck is chasing us and what they want.”
“Well, I can’t see them anymore,” I hiss.
“Fuck!” Dalton groans as he paces around the small galley.
“Stop the ship and surrender or we will fire!” a male voice shouts over a PA system.
All four of us look at each other. “That was not a Somali accent,” I say, furrowing my brows.
“No, it was not. It was British.” Cookie clenches his jaw. “Well, as long as I’m alive they’re not taking this boat.”
All of the sudden, the motors die and the yacht comes to a halt. “I don’t like being blind,” I growl and begin to pace around with Dalton.
“One of us needs to go upstairs and see what the hell is going on.”
“I’ll go,” I volun
teer without hesitation. Cookie shouldn’t leave Fiona behind and Dalton needs to stay in case something goes wrong. I pull out my cell phone and check for service, but of course we’re too far from shore for a signal. “I’ve got no signal,” I mutter.
Dalton does the same, and nods. “Same.”
“Alright. I’ll recon and come back down. If you don’t hear from me in ten minutes, assume I’ve been discovered.”
“Okay,” Dalton mutters. “Be careful.”
With stealth, I leave the galley and creep back up the stairs we had run down. Stopping halfway up, I stand still and listen. Not hearing anything, I peek through the slits of the spiral staircase. The floor is empty with not an employee or passenger in sight.
I move slow and steady across the main salon toward the back end of the boat. Voices and scratching noises are coming from the outside. Deciding to risk it and without moving the curtains, I peek out the window. Right next to me is a beat down boat with six, no…seven men. All of them are armed with assault rifles.
None of us are packing – it’s too much of a pain in the ass to have weapons when we’re off duty. So, we’ll need to disarm them and use their weapons against them.
Making sure it’s all clear, I hightail it back downstairs to report back.
“Seven hostiles, all with AKs.”
“Seven. That’s doable,” Dalton muses.
“Where?” Cookie asks.
“Right side, coming up the side. They should already be on board.” I turn to Dalton. “How do you want to play this?”
“First, we need to get rid of their means of escape.”
Click.
All of our heads swivel toward the sound. It came from above, but close to where the hostiles boarded.
Click.
That, is the distinct sound of a 9mm round being fired off.
So, they have assault rifles and pistols.
Fantastic.
Click, click.
“We need to move, and fast. I’m hoping those were just threatening rounds to frighten the passengers into submission,” Dalton whispers through a clenched jaw.
“What do you want us to do?” Cookie asks.
“You stay here. Buckley and I will go up and assess. See if you can figure out a way to set their boat loose.”
“Easy. At the back of the boat is a garage filled with jet skis. I’ll take one out and cut their line. They’ll never see me coming.”
Cookie smiles – that I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile.
That Grinch Who Stole Christmas evil smile.
I’d be scared shitless if I didn’t know him any better.
“Good. Then let’s go.”
Beca
As I’m climbing the stairs back to the upper deck, the captain comes over and tells us to stay calm and do whatever the men ask. What men? I glance at Ava, who’s calm as a cucumber while everyone around her are pale as ghosts – including my best friends. “Who is he talking about?” I ask as I sit down.
“We’re about to be boarded by what I assume are some kind of terrorists,” she whispers. “Didn’t you see the boat pull up beside us?”
“No.”
She furrows her brows. “You didn’t hear them over their intercom telling us to stop?”
I shake my head. “I heard someone talking, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying.”
“He’s with Dalton, no doubt. They both have a keen sense of danger, and I’m sure they’re together trying to figure out how to stop whoever is boarding us.”
Movement from the corner of my eye draws attention to the center of the boat. Four armed men stroll out of the al fresco dining area and point their assault rifles at us.
“Move!” Click.
I jump at the sound of the gun being fired. I’ve never heard one before besides on television, and it scares the shit out of me.
But I’m frozen and can’t move.
The man next to him holds some kind of revolver and is firing it into the air.
The first man motions with the barrel of his gun to the stairs leading to the main deck.
“Now!” Click.
He fires again, this time aims over our heads.
“Beca, we need to move,” Ava whispers, tugging on my arm.
I’m still unable to move.
“Move, or I’ll kill you!”
Click, click.
The bullets whiz so close to my head, I can hear the air whistling past. Ava yanks me up and drags me down the stairs.
We’re directed to sit on the floor in front of the stone bar. Ava brings me to my friends who are huddled together against the wall, and we sit next to them.
“Beca, what’s going on?” Shea whispers, fear laced through her words.
I can’t answer her. I’m too frightened to speak. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs.
“We’ll be fine. Just listen to the men, and we’ll all be fine,” Ava advises, her voice calm and smooth.
I need to stay strong. If Ava is right, Dalton and Jason are downstairs and will save us. I will myself to stop shaking and focus.
“Stay still, and place your hands in front of you,” another man directs. He whispers something to the man with the handgun and walks off. He must be the leader.
Everyone does as they’re told, and two other men come around with ropes and tie our hands. That makes seven men. I wonder how many more there are.
The leader comes back, this time holding an assault rifle. He looks us over, as if he’s looking for someone specific.
He moves toward a couple I hadn’t met. “You,” he sneers. “You have family?” he asks the man. His voice is mocking and self-assured. He’s definitely the leader. He has a scar over his right eye that makes him look even more menacing.
“Yes,” he answers, his voice shaking.
In this moment I realize that I never had the chance to tell Jason I loved him. A feeling of panic overwhelms me as I start to grasp that I may never have the chance. Biting my lip, I try and quell my fear.
“Daughter, son?” the man with the scar asks, continuing to verbally assault the poor passenger.
“S-son,” the passenger stutters.
“That’s too bad,” he mocks.
He’s trying to rattle us – and he’s doing an amazing job.
“Leave him alone!” a voice beside me screams. It takes a second for me to realize it’s Ava’s.
Why?
Why would she draw attention to herself?
“What are you doing?” I whisper, horrified as the man with the scar approaches us.
“Letting him know that I’m not scared,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the man with the scars as she watches him stalk us.
He stands over Ava. “You are either very brave or very stupid,” he mocks. His arrogant gaze through half-lidded eyes makes me shudder.
“I’m neither,” she quips, staring up at him.
The man with the pistol pulls the clip from the gun and inspects it. He glances at Ava as he touches each bullet, then slams it back in. “I would stay quiet if I were you,” the man with the scar taunts.
“Or what. You’re going to kill me?” She folds her arms across her body, still staring up at him.
Christ, Ava! Shut the fuck up!
“The boat!” one of the men shouts. The man with the scar moves to the other side of the yacht then curses under his breath. He runs a finger through his long, blonde hair, then comes back to us.
Looking down at Ava, he smirks then walks toward the man with the pistol. “Keep an eye on this one,” he commands, then side steps back to the man he was originally tormenting. Taking a paper from his pocket, he studies it for a moment. I’m able to see a part of it and find he’s holding a photo. With the picture in front of him, he walks up and down the frightened passengers until he finds who he’s looking for.
“You,” he points to a blonde-haired man. “Come with me.” One of the terrorists grabs the man by his collar a
nd yanks him up, and the three of them disappear outside.
“I think this is an episode of, wrong place wrong time,” Ava whispers.
“What do you mean?”
“It seems the man they dragged off may be the target. Hard to imagine they’d need this many guns, for a boat full of thirty people, though.” She looks around, but I can’t imagine what she’s looking for. I glance over to my friends. All three have their eyes down and are concentrating really hard on not falling apart. I hope I can hold it together long enough for Jason to find us.
Jase
Dalton and I stare in horror at the scene unfolding in front of us. We’re trapped behind the bar, but before we went blind, we were able to watch them huddle all of the guests together.
What are the odds we’d be in the same room.
We sit quietly, waiting to make our move.
A bang from above grabs our attention. Sounds like someone pounding on the bar top. “We need to get him and get the hell off this boat,” someone whispers.
“Get who?” I mouth to Dalton.
He shrugs.
“I need to scare him, first.” Both voices had a British accent, but I can’t figure out why a bunch of Brits would attack a pleasure cruise?
“You. You have family?”
The voice is farther into the room now, giving us a chance to communicate.
“All this for one person?” I whisper.
“Seems to be.” He holds his hand up in warning, and I freeze. When he’s satisfied, he continues. “Gonna be in for a shock when they go to board a boat that’s no longer there.”
“Leave him alone!”
Fuck.
That was Ava.
“Don’t do it,” I warn Dalton. His jaw tightens and the cords in his neck become rigid. “She can take care of herself. Give it a second.”
Pressing his lips firmly together, he sits in silence. We listen to them go back and forth, and then the sound we’ve been waiting for.
“The boat!”
Dalton’s face turned from rage to a more relaxed frown. “About time,” he growls.
“You. Come with me,” the Brit in charge commands someone. A man’s grunt leads me to believe it’s the man they’re here for. The sounds of feet being dragged across the floor get fainter and then silence.