Touching the Sun: A Harry Beck Thriller (The Bahamas Series Book 1)

by Len Maynard

  There was a moment of absolute stillness. Nothing moved. Julius and I were holding our breath. The door opened a crack.

  Jack fired twice at the door, splintering the wood.

  There was another beat and the door flew open. I caught a brief glimpse of Stevie as she raised the flare gun and fired at Jack.

  Kim screamed and threw herself in front of her lover, and the flare took her in the face. She hit the floor, her head a ball of fire. Jack emptied his gun into the doorway, but Stevie was nowhere to be seen. He glanced down at Kim, then ran from the house.

  The whole encounter had taken less than thirty seconds. I sat on the couch, frozen into immobility by the suddenness of it all.

  ‘Get after him,’ Julius said. He shook my arm. ‘Harry, get after Jack. He’s getting away.’

  But I had other things on my mind. ‘Stevie? Stevie!’

  I ran across to the doorway. Stevie was leaning against the wall on the other side of it. A bullet had winged her shoulder, but it didn’t look serious. ‘You silly little fool,’ I said. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’

  ‘Covering your ass, Harry,’ she said, a wan smile playing on her lips. ‘As usual.’ Then she slid down the wall in a dead faint.

  I carried her into the lounge and laid her on the couch, trying hard not to look at Kim. Julius had hauled himself up and extinguished the flames, but it was too late for her. Much too late. ‘Cover her up before Stevie comes round and sees what she’s done.’

  Julius pulled a cloth from the dining table and draped it over Kim’s body. I ripped my shirt and made a small pad with the material, dabbing away the blood from Stevie’s shoulder. It was, as I’d thought, a flesh wound, nothing more, but it would sting like hell when she woke up.

  As if on cue Stevie groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She jerked her head round and stared at the covered body lying on the floor. ‘Is he dead?’

  I shook my head. ‘Kim threw herself in front of him.’

  ‘I liked her.’ Stevie flopped back onto the couch. ‘If she hadn’t been a child trafficking piece of shit we might have been friends.’

  ‘Yeah. She had me fooled, that’s for sure.’

  ‘So that bastard is still free?’

  ‘After you shot Kim with the flare he ran. I thought he’d killed you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.’

  ‘This wasn’t how it was meant to go,’ I said.

  ‘You mean you were banking on Alan rushing in to save the day.’ She shook her head, genuine sadness in her eyes. ‘Oh, Harry, you never learn, do you? Alan had no intention of putting himself in danger. When you left the house I tied Elena up and followed you, right up until the point where you split up. I guessed what your plan would be. You’d offer yourself up to Jack while Alan moved around to the back of the house and came up behind him. But Alan had other ideas. As soon as you were out of sight he doubled back and headed off to his boat.’

  ‘Then he’ll be miles away by now.’

  She smiled. ‘I don’t think so.’ She fished inside the pocket of her shorts, wincing from the pain in her shoulder, and produced a set of keys. ‘I never trusted him, so I relieved him of these. He’s going nowhere fast.’

  ‘You never cease to amaze me,’ I said. ‘Stay here with Julius. Give them to me. I’m going after Alan.’

  ‘What about Jack?’ Julius said.

  ‘His boat hasn’t the speed to match Alan’s. I’ll catch up with him.’

  ‘And then?’ Stevie said.

  I didn’t reply.

  ‘Let me come with you,’ Julius said.

  ‘With that hole in your chest? I don’t think so. Stay here with Stevie.’

  ‘The walking wounded,’ Stevie said. ‘He’s right, Julius, we’ll just slow him down.’ She clasped her hand to her shoulder and hissed through her teeth. ‘Christ! It stings.’

  ‘I thought it would,’ I said with a smile. ‘See? You’re not as tough as you think you are.’

  ‘Bastard!’ she said, matching my smile with one of her own. ‘Get out of here.’

  ‘Take care, man,’ Julius said.

  ‘Don’t worry, I will,’ I said.

  63

  At least the storm was dying away. The wind direction had changed, taking it out to sea. It made running easier.

  I reached the shore where the Cubans had left The Lady’s dinghy, and pushed it into the water. When I climbed aboard, and started the outboard motor, I stuck to the shoreline. Minutes later I was coming up on Alan’s Princess. As I eased back on the throttle, I could see Alan on deck. He seemed to be searching for something.

  ‘Looking for these,’ I called, holding the keys to his boat aloft.

  He looked up from his search, saw me, and ambled over to the rail. ‘I might have known,’ he said, a smile spreading over his face.

  Sam and Billie appeared behind him.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Sam said. ‘He told us you’d been shot and that he’d managed to escape.’

  ‘We were going to head back to Freeport and contact the police,’ Billie added. ‘But Alan seems to have lost the keys.’

  I held them aloft again, giving them a shake for good measure.

  ‘Drop the ladder. I’m coming aboard.’

  Moments later the rope ladder rolled down the side of Alan’s boat. I tethered the dinghy and climbed aboard. ‘Jack’s made a run for it,’ I said to Alan. ‘We can catch him if we move quickly.’ I turned to Billie and Sam. ‘You two take the dinghy and head back to Watt’s Cay. When you get there call Sergeant Jim Henderson. You’ll find his number on here.’ I tossed them my mobile phone. ‘Tell him what’s happened and say we need medical assistance urgently.’

  ‘Who’s been hurt?’ she said, alarm flashing in her eyes.

  ‘Stevie and Julius. Both shot.’

  She groaned. ‘Oh Christ!’

  ‘Stevie’s fine. Just a flesh wound. Julius is a bit more serious. He took one in the chest, but he’s tough, is Julius. He’ll be fine, but stress the urgency of the medical assistance. It doesn’t pay to take chances, especially with bullet wounds.’

  ‘And Kim? Is she with Jack?’ Alan said.

  ‘Kim’s dead. She took a flare in the face. She was dead before she hit the floor.’

  Billie gasped. ‘Stevie had the flare gun. Did she…?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Poor kid. She’s going to feel so bad.’

  ‘Not a word to the police about Stevie and the flare gun, and, when you see her, tell her to keep her mouth shut about it. If they press her she’s to say she was outside the door and saw nothing. Okay?’

  Billie nodded. ‘Not a word. Do you want me to get rid of it?’

  ‘Throw it into the sea as far as you can.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I can do that.’

  Sam was peering nervously over the side at the dinghy as it kicked and bucked on the waves. ‘And you want us to get back to the island in that?’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘The storm’s dying out.’ I tried to hurry them along. Every moment we spent in conversation put more distance between Jack and us.

  Billie squeezed his arm. ‘Come on. It’s down to us now.’ She hopped over the rail and onto the rope ladder, descending to the dinghy. Sam was slower, but he made it aboard. Billie started the motor, released the tether, and they were away.

  ‘Well,’ Alan said. ‘Just you and me. Like old times.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, this is nothing like old times, Alan. We used to be friends. And apparently we’re supposed to be brothers.’

  ‘Ouch,’ he said. ‘Harry, I’m sorry I ran out on you, okay, but I couldn’t take the chance you’d have a change of heart and turn me over to the police. I can’t go to jail, Harry, it would finish me. And remember, I know you very well. You would have had that change of heart.’

  ‘Do you think about anyone but yourself?’ I said as I climbed up to the flying bridge. I slotted the key in the ignition and the en
gine started smoothly.

  ‘That’s unfair,’ Alan said.

  ‘I don’t think so. We could have all been killed back at the house. You knew that and still you ran out on us.’ I eased the throttle forward; the propellers spun, churning up a white spume, and the boat began to move. ‘This has all happened because of you.’

  ‘It’s all happened because I’ve been trying to stop it.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place if you cared more about people than you do for making more money. I’ve known you all my life, and any respect, any love I had for you has just about been drained out of me.’

  Alan moved to the long, leather seat at the back of the flying bridge and sat down, crossing his legs. ‘How do you know where Jack’s headed?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know for certain, but my guess is he’s going to make for Florida. His luck’s run out on the Islands and he knows it. He’ll head for Florida because he’s obviously got contacts there and, once he’s in the US, he’ll find it easy enough to disappear. So that’s the course I’m taking. What’s the top speed of this thing?’

  ‘Thirty-five knots,’ he said.

  ‘Then we’ll catch him. Jack has a maximum speed of twenty-two.’

  ‘I admire your optimism,’ Alan said.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘You just sit there on your ass and admire it, because I promised Jack Dylan I was going to bring him down and, unlike some, I don’t go back on my word.’

  64

  The storm had blown back out to sea and the sun was breaking through the clouds, glinting off the wave caps. The exhilaration of feeling the wind blowing through my hair was making me feel lightheaded. It was almost possible to put all thoughts of Jack out of my mind and just settle into enjoying the ride.

  Alan’s boat handled like a dream, and I felt the adrenaline rush of being in charge of a vessel that was responsive to my every whim. The Lady used to handle like that, though not at this kind of speed. Already I was thinking about her in the past tense, and it was a sickening thought. She was insured, but I knew I’d never be able to replace her. I could buy another boat with the insurance money, sure, but whatever craft I bought next, I knew I’d never be able to recapture the sheer buzz of almost elemental excitement I’d felt whenever I started The Lady’s engines. I had loved that boat with a passion bordering on the obsessive. She may have cost me my relationship with Katy, but she had more than compensated for that loss over the years.

  ‘There he is,’ Alan said.

  I turned. He was still sitting casually on the long seat, but he was holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes and pointing off to starboard. I followed his line of sight and saw a small speck on the horizon.

  ‘Are you sure it’s him?’

  ‘It’s him.’

  I turned the wheel and the boat responded. The small speck grew larger as we closed in on it, and ten minutes later I had Jack in my sights. ‘Right, you bastard,’ I said under my breath. ‘Payback time.’

  We were half a mile away from him when he began firing at us. I could see the flare from a machine pistol’s barrel, but could not yet hear it over the roar of the boat’s engines. A bullet whistled past my ear and took a bite out of the superstructure of the flying bridge.

  ‘Get down to the cockpit and take over the controls,’ I shouted at Alan. ‘I want you to bring us alongside him. Close.’

  ‘How close?’

  ‘Close enough for me to board him.’

  ‘You are out of your mind,’ he said, but was already moving down the stairs to the cockpit and the duplicate set of controls.

  Once I felt him take over I let go of the wheel and moved down to the sun deck. Alan was sitting in the cockpit steering the Princess like the expert he obviously was. He glanced back at me and made an OK sign with his finger and thumb.

  I looked across and saw Jack standing on the bridge of the Marko, steering one-handed and trying to aim the machine pistol in my direction. He was smiling. The bastard was actually smiling! Alan tweaked the controls and brought us up alongside. Realizing what we were doing, Jack swung the pistol around and sprayed the cockpit. Windows shattered and I felt the Princess lurch. I only had one chance at this. I ran for the side and jumped.

  For a brief few seconds I was airborne, and then with a bone-crunching jolt I landed in a heap on the aft deck of the Marko.

  I rolled and hauled myself to my feet, glancing back at the Princess, but she had veered away and was slowing down. We were leaving her and Alan behind. Jack killed the engine and was moving down from the bridge, advancing on me, machine pistol cocked.

  ‘Jesus, Harry, you just couldn’t let it go, could you?’ He raised the pistol. I looked back again at the Princess, but she had slowed to a halt and was dead in the water.

  With almost a fatalistic fascination I watched Jack’s finger tighten on the trigger and held my breath, waiting for the hail of bullets to cut me in two.

  Nothing happened.

  A frown crossed Jack’s forehead and he shook the weapon, willing it to work; but the magazine was empty. The gun was useless. With a frustrated roar he threw the machine pistol into the sea and launched himself at me.

  Jack was six inches taller and forty pounds heavier, and he came at me like a bear, catching me around the waist and taking me down to the deck. We had fought as children, and even then he’d had the advantage of size. The results of those fights were inevitable. Jack would win, usually by pinning me down and trapping some or other part of my anatomy in a crippling submission hold; but that was when we were children. I’d learned a few things since then, and one of them was how to fight dirty. As we tumbled to the deck I rammed my knee up between his legs, and listened with satisfaction as the air rushed out of him and he groaned.

  He rolled off me and lay there for a moment, clutching himself. I struggled up to my feet again, but he shot out a hand and grabbed my ankle, tugging hard and taking me off balance. I fell back to the deck, landing badly on my elbow. A numbing pain shot up my arm and turned to fire in my shoulder.

  I lay there for a moment, fighting down a wave of nausea, but Jack was back on his feet, reaching down and hauling me upright by my hair. He smashed a fist into the side of my head that sent me reeling across the deck like a drunken puppet. I crashed into the side rail, but had the presence of mind to grab the cold metal and stop myself from tumbling overboard.

  The bear was coming for me again. The civilized mask Jack usually wore had slipped away completely, and in its place was a face filled with a killing rage; eyes wild, lips pulled back in a savage snarl. The real Jack Dylan.

  I leaned back against the rail and stuck out my foot, catching him in the stomach, and then wheeled away and staggered across the deck, looking for something to use as a weapon. Jack could keep this up for hours. He was stronger than me, and hyped up with adrenaline from the fight. As he came at me again I grabbed at one of the coils of anchor chain still stowed at the rear of the deck. It was only about six feet in length, but as heavy as hell. Using what was left of my strength, I swung at him. The chain caught him a glancing blow on the head, opening a deep gash on his brow. Blood poured down his face and he reeled backwards, but he didn’t go down.

  I dropped the chain. I didn’t have enough strength for another swing. Jack glared at me. His hand went to his head and came away covered in blood. He stared down at his hand and then growled deep in his throat and barreled towards me, hands outstretched, ready to separate me from my limbs.

  When he was a yard away I dropped flat onto the deck, but his momentum kept him coming. He tripped over me and crashed into the aft rail. For a moment he hung there, doubled over, flapping his arms, trying desperately to regain his balance, but then his canvas shoes slipped on the deck, his center of gravity shifted, and he tumbled over the rail and into the sea.

  65

  A current must have taken him, because by the time I pulled myself upright and looked over the stern, he was over a hundred yards away, treadin
g water. The mask was back and he was smiling.

  ‘Come on, Harry. Throw me a line. You know you want to,’ he called.

  ‘But that’s just it, Jack. I don’t want to. I want to let you drown.’

  He laughed. ‘You haven’t got it in you. You’re not like me.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, Jack. I’m not.’

  There was a life belt stowed under a locker at the front of the deck. I went across and hauled it out, unravelling the nylon line. ‘Swim closer,’ I called when I reached the aft rail. ‘The line’s not long enough.’

  He started to swim towards me. When he’d halved the distance I tossed the lifebelt into the water. It landed just in front of him. ‘Cheers, Harry,’ he said, and struck out towards it. He had it half over his head when he suddenly vanished beneath the water.

  It took me a moment to realize what was happening, and then I saw four triangular dorsal fins cutting through the waves towards the lifebelt.

  Sharks; four of them, blocking off his route back to the boat. A fifth had taken him under.

  He surfaced a second later, further away.

  ‘Oh, Jesus Christ! Help me, Harry! Hel…’ And he disappeared again.

  I looked on helplessly as the four fins switched direction towards the point where Jack had vanished. He reappeared briefly, once, but the water around him was already turning red with his blood. He was flailing with his arms and looking about him frantically. Our eyes met. There was terror in his, and something else. Resignation.

  He went under again, and this time he didn’t resurface. I watched the water boil as the sharks began their feeding frenzy. Finally, sickened, I turned away and went back to the wheel, started the engine, and steered off in the direction of Alan’s boat.

  I pulled up alongside it, cut the engine, and tied the two boats together. I climbed over the rail onto Alan’s Princess. I could see no movement in the cockpit, but I could see the back of Alan’s head. As I drew closer I saw the cockpit was a mess. Bullets from Jack’s machine pistol had shattered most of the windows and pockmarked the superstructure. As I entered Alan turned his head.