by Landon Beach
Conrad told him and then turned to him. “You came after me. That’s all I could have ever asked for.”
“I didn’t come alone.”
“Who else?”
“Another FBI special agent and a private investigator.”
Conrad looked around. “Where are they?”
Brad motioned with his head toward the water. “Scuba diving to see what the divers off the yacht are interested in.”
Then, as if Conrad was in a confessional booth with too heavy a burden to carry, he told his brother everything that had happened since the abduction.
Brad processed it and then said, “So, Fabian’s uncle, what did you call him...Papa Pete, is going to kill Stansie’s mother?”
A nod from Conrad.
“And millions of dollars are secured in fifty dry boxes that you helped hide deep in a cave out there?”
Another nod from Conrad.
“And these guys diving from the yacht are just as dangerous as the ones we fought in here?”
“More dangerous. That’s Papa Pete’s yacht that they’re diving from. All I ever heard from Stansie and Ciro was that his bodyguards and crew are like animals.”
“Then we’ve got to go down and bring Allison and Maggie up. Then Maggie can call in some more help.”
And it was at that moment when Brad observed a change in Conrad that only a brother who had known him all of his life could see: drying of the eyes, gritting of the teeth, a stretch of the neck, and clenching and unclenching of his fists—Brad watched Conrad’s pain turn into rage.
“How many divers from the yacht?”
“Four.”
Conrad bent over and gave Stansie a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back to get you soon.” He stood up. “I see you’ve got your wetsuit on. Where’s the rest of your dive gear?”
“On the boat.”
“Let’s go. It’s time to destroy.”
31
The stack of dry boxes outside of the cave had grown to be enormous. It’ll take hours to get these up, Allison Shannon thought. The two sentry divers were still positioned outside of the cave entrance. She wondered how Brad and Patrick were doing at the house.
Then, a light illuminated her from behind. She turned and saw two divers heading their way. The light went out. Maggie turned with her, and they readied their spearguns. Then, the light came on again, and she could see that one of the divers was Brad and the other larger one...was not Patrick.
Brad gave them the okay sign and then extinguished the light. Moments later, the four knelt in a circle on the bottom. Taking turns with the dive slate, they updated each other. Maggie’s head sunk at the news of Patrick, and Allison could see the pain in Conrad’s eyes behind his mask. But she could also see a fierceness there too and a raw determination in Brad’s eyes when the dive light had come on for a moment while he wrote on the slate.
Now, the lights were off, and the group turned toward the cave. One of the sentries had unclipped his dive light from the ring on the side of the cave and aimed it in the direction of the group. The light found nothing; the group had dispersed moments before.
Conrad and Brad took out their dive knives and kicked around behind the cave entrance, while Maggie and Allison positioned themselves between the stack of dry boxes and the yacht. Conrad and Brad would kill the sentries, and Allison and Maggie would take out the two other divers as they exited the cave to deposit the dry boxes.
They knelt on the lake floor and waited.
What they didn’t know, however, was that while they were making their plan, one of the divers had left the cave, passed over the stack of dry boxes, and headed for the surface.
✽✽✽
The captain of Empire State of Mind leaned over the starboard gunwale and listened to a diver who was treading water at the surface.
“Boxes are all out of the cave,” the diver said. “Drop the airlift bags to me. We’ll float them to the surface and then kick along with them until we reach the swim platform.”
The captain gave a thumbs up and then threw over four air lift bags. Then he stood and turned around, facing two divers who had just finished gearing up. “Okay, we’re ready to start the transfer. Go down and join the other four. Use the bags and bring the boxes to the stern where I’ll collect them.” He looked back toward shore. The rain and wind were so fierce that he had trouble even making out the shoreline, let alone any of the residences. “Haven’t heard anything from the house in a while. Earlier, I thought I heard gu—ah, forget it. Must just be enjoying staying dry while we’re out in this shit.” There had been a finger or two of Wild Turkey in his coffee. He paused, eyeing the men. “Don’t tell the boss I said that. Let’s just get the boxes recovered. Remember, it’s only me up here, so you’re going to have to help push the boxes up onto the swim platform for me before you take the airlift bags back down. Got it?”
“What about that small powerboat over there?” one of the divers said.
The captain turned around to see the Stingray bobbing at anchor. “Hey, when did that little sonofabitch return?” Earlier, he had put his coffee cup down after a few gulps and taken a little snooze, but he didn’t think that it had been long enough for that boat to return.
He turned around, and both divers shrugged.
Don’t get paranoid. He took one last look at the small cabin cruiser, saw nothing move, and said, “Nothing to worry about. They’re anchored and are probably riding this thing out in the cabin. I think it was a guy and a lady friend, so who knows, maybe they’re boppin’ down below to the rhythm of the rocking seas.”
The divers laughed.
“Okay, get in there,” he said, motioning to the dark water below.
The divers gave the okay sign, put their regulators in their mouths, and moved past him to the gunwale.
The captain slid over and called down to the diver treading water on the surface. “Here they come! Let’s make this quick!”
And with that, the two divers jumped in. Seconds later, they surfaced next to the other diver. Then, one by one, they submerged.
✽✽✽
Brad and Conrad pulled their way across the top of the cave until they were directly above the two sentries. Brad held his dive knife in his right hand, his heart racing.
Watch me take my guy out, and when the other sentry goes after me, you surprise him from behind, Conrad had written on the dive slate.
Brad had wanted the four of them to get out of there, but Conrad’s rage had dominated the planning session. After writing that he would go it alone if he had to, they had decided to stay with him.
Brad controlled his breathing and waited. He could see the light reflect off of Conrad’s mask’s faceplate, making it look like a mirror that he could not see behind. To the left of Conrad’s mask, the light glinted off Conrad’s stainless-steel blade. Brad continued to focus on his breathing. Then, Conrad started to move.
In a burst of speed, Conrad kicked over the edge and got behind the sentry on the right. Using the serrated part of his knife, he drew it fast and deep across the man’s throat. Blood billowed from the wound, and all the man could do was grab his own throat with both of his hands as he died.
The other sentry pulled out his own dive knife and went after Conrad, but Brad grabbed him and ripped his knife across the man’s throat. The man spit out his regulator and died like the first man with his hands around his throat trying to stop the bleeding.
The water became warm around him from the man’s blood, and Brad’s hands shook. He’d just killed someone. Conrad was at his side and looked him in the eye as if to say, “You did fine.”
Quickly, they pulled each man to the side of the cave and then took their positions as sentries. They had thought about turning off the lights clipped to the cave entrance, but decided against it because it might tip off the divers who would be exiting the cave. When the two men did come out of the cave, Conrad and Brad would each take a man. If either man got away and tried to make an effort to
reach the boat, Allison and Maggie would unload on him with their spearguns.
The brothers waited, each with his knife in hand.
✽✽✽
Allison had watched the brothers take out the sentries. Now, all they had to do was take care of the other two divers in the cave. It was four on two. Allison’s anxiety subsided.
We’re going to get this done.
From deep within the cave, a light started to grow brighter and brighter as one of the divers approached the cave opening. She watched as Conrad drew back his knife.
Then, the water around them started to become lighter and lighter, and before her brain processed what had happened, she watched as Maggie bent over next to her—a spear had entered her from behind and was sticking out through her chest. Blood escaped from the wound, and, on instinct, Allison turned and fired her spear directly behind her.
It hit a diver square in the chest, and he screamed bubbles of air as he grabbed the spear and sunk to the lake floor.
There were two other divers next to him!
She dropped her empty gun and pulled out her dive knife. One of the divers aimed his spear gun at her. Just before he shot, she kicked to the left. The spear sped by, missing her right shoulder by inches, and continued into the open water. Both remaining divers dropped their empty guns and pulled out their knives. She kicked hard toward the cave opening, but one of the divers was fast and grabbed her ankle, making her head snap back with the force of being stopped. She turned around and saw the other man closing in and drawing back his knife.
✽✽✽
Conrad saw Maggie get hit and assessed the situation immediately. He motioned to Brad to take the diver coming out of the cave and then bolted toward Allison.
✽✽✽
Allison kicked and struggled, but now the men were on top of her, ready to stab. She thought of Keller and of the explosion and her long road to recovery. She thought of Brad and having feelings for someone again after so many years of emptiness inside her.
She felt the strength of the man who was now holding her leg with both hands and then saw the flash of the knife above her.
Conrad Cranston hit the diver holding the knife at full kicking force, and the man tumbled away from Allison.
Seeing his partner in trouble, the other man let go of Allison’s leg and rose to help.
Conrad’s mask had come up over his nose and had filled with water. Just as he was clearing it, he felt a sharp pain as the diver he had knocked over plunged his knife into Conrad’s stomach. Then, he felt another burning ache as the other diver stabbed his knife into Conrad’s back. His strength started to give out, and he made one last powerful swing with his own knife. It caught the diver, who was in front of him, in the neck, and with the last reserves of his energy, Conrad grabbed the man’s hair with his other hand and sawed back and forth with the serrated edge of the knife until the water around them was a mess of flesh and blood. But the effort had left him exposed, and the diver behind him took his knife out of Conrad’s back...
✽✽✽
Brad had killed the diver that had come out of the cave and was now kicking as fast as he could with his dive light aimed at the mass of bodies colliding near the lake bottom. He was within half a dozen kicks of reaching them when, through the haze of blood, he saw an arm reaching back with a knife ready to swing down on Conrad.
Brad reached out with his hands but watched in horror as the knife entered Conrad’s neck. Brad’s scream sent a balloon full of bubbles toward the surface, then he took his own knife and went for the diver’s neck, missed, but cut the air hose instead. The diver sucked in water and immediately tried to surface, but Brad held on to the diver’s right leg...and was then joined by Allison, who held the diver’s left leg.
The diver made a final attempt to swing his knife at his assailants but missed. His motion then became erratic as more and more water filled his lungs. His movements lessened and finally stopped. Brad and Allison let go and watched the lifeless body sink away.
Brad swam down to Conrad. I can’t lose him now. Blood from the wounds in Conrad’s chest, back, and neck leaked out and spread into rising clouds like three separate oil leaks from a sunken ship. Brad looked into Conrad’s eyes and saw them blink once; a few bubbles rose from his brother’s regulator as Conrad took his final breaths.
He’s gone, and I never told him how I felt about him or what he meant to me.
Then, Allison was next to him, holding him. Looking around, they became overwhelmed by emotion and embraced each other—breath in, bubbles out, breath in, bubbles out...rising to the surface.
The sound of the yacht’s motor broke their trance, and they kicked toward the sound.
32
The captain of Empire State of Mind had just finished raising the anchor and was in the flybridge ready to get the yacht out of there. No one had come up from beneath the surface. Plus, the rain had let up, and on the shore were police with megaphones ordering him to come ashore. The hell with that. He had stolen a glance at Nico Colombo’s house and seen the shattered sunroom. Whatever had gone wrong there or underwater was no longer his issue. He needed to get the yacht back to Detroit. That was what Papa Pete would want him to do, and Papa Pete would know what to do once he arrived.
He was the only one left on board, but he could manage the luxury yacht with ease; everything about the yacht had been constructed so that, if needed, someone could operate her alone. Automation was the way of the future—different from when he had started as a sailor long ago, but those days were never coming back.
He took one look around and then pushed the throttle forward.
At that very moment, two divers emerged from the water and climbed aboard the swim platform as the yacht began to race away from the island.
✽✽✽
Allison and Brad removed their dive gear and stepped into the stern, only wearing their wetsuits. Each had a dive knife out, ready to use. Thunder erupted above, and in seconds they were in another all-out downpour as waves smashed against the sides of the hull and sent buckets of cold lake water over the side and into the stern.
“Do you think anyone else is aboard besides the person driving the boat?” Brad asked.
“Can’t be many if there are,” Allison said. “Be ready.”
“What’s the best way up to the flybridge?” Brad asked.
She looked up at the flybridge two levels above the main deck. There was an exterior ladder, exposed to the weather, that led up to a closed hatch. There was bound to be an interior ladder as well. Should we split up or both approach from the exterior ladder? The boat hit a huge trough, and they were knocked to the deck.
“I say we split up. I’ll take the exterior ladder. You head inside the cabin and come up the interior ladder. Yell if you are in trouble.”
“Okay,” said Brad, and they took off in opposite directions.
She placed her knife back in its sheath and held on tightly to the ladder’s steel handrails as she ascended. Rain pelted her wetsuit, and the wind lashed her wet hair against her face. She continued on.
Near the top of the ladder, she could see the man steering the boat. He was trying to use a cell phone but kept swearing because he had no reception. Then, it slipped out of his hand and slid across the deck.
Is he armed? She couldn’t tell.
✽✽✽
Brad carefully made his way through the yacht’s salon. Christ, the luxury was everywhere. Massive 4K TV, Bose speakers, leather couch and recliners, card table with poker chips and cards strewn all over the deck around it, a wet bar, and an enormous galley. Then, he saw six sets of men’s clothes laid out neatly on a bench. He stopped looking and made his way to a spiral ladder on the other side of the galley. He looked above and could hear a man shouting like he was trying to hail someone on the yacht’s VHF or talk to someone on a cell phone. Then, he heard a clank as something fell to the deck, followed by “Fuck!”
He started to climb the spiral ladder.
> ✽✽✽
From the porthole in the flybridge’s aft hatch, Allison could see the top of Brad’s head rising through the hole in the deck. She decided to make her move. Drawing her knife, she slowly opened the hatch. When there was enough room for her to enter, she charged the man driving the boat.
Looking into his rearview mirror, the man saw her, and at the last second pulled a revolver out from his waistband, turned, and shot.
Allison felt the bullet enter her abdomen and got thrown off balance.
The man was lining up another shot when Brad leaped from the top rung of the ladder and knocked the gun out of his hand. They fell to the floor, and the man wrapped his hands around Brad’s neck and squeezed.
Allison started to feel lightheaded as she stood up. Blood was squirting out the hole in her wetsuit, and with no one steering the boat, it turned and hit a huge wave, knocking her to the deck again.
She shook her head and tried to focus her vision. The man was still on top of Brad strangling him. She saw the revolver a few feet away. Her body was starting to feel warm all over like it was time to take a long winter’s nap underneath a dozen blankets and wake up hours later to a warm meal and wine by the fire. She took a desperate breath and dove for the gun.
The man saw her and released his grip on Brad. As he went to jump on her, she aimed the gun and pulled the trigger as many times as she could.
The man grabbed his chest and fell back to the deck. The gun dropped from her hand.
Brad regained his breath and crawled over to Allison, immediately applying pressure to her wound. “Allison, can you hear me? You’re going to be okay.”