“Sure.”
He exhaled loudly and left the room. Jessica hated hurting his feelings – she hated hurting anyone’s feelings, really – but she needed to be alone. She needed to be the only one deciding things for a while.
Her eyes turned to the suitcases on the bed. “Man, I should’ve had him put everything back before leaving…”
Chapter 22
Surprisingly little time was spent wallowing. Jessica hardened herself while she put her clothes away again. Don’t let him break you down, she told herself. She’d made great strides in the last 24 hours and she didn’t want to go back to being passive.
After she was done, she finished her water and picked up the phone. She called Sam Tollefsrud at Queen Emma Helicopter Tours and when she identified herself the woman came on the line in record time.
“Hello, Jessy. I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon. Actually, I didn’t think I’d hear from you ever again.”
“What? You thought I’d be on the first plane out of here?”
“Or between your precious Dutchman’s legs doing the nasty things nasty girls do.”
“Don’t confuse your fantasies with mine. I’m calling you because I want to give you one last chance to comply with what I asked you earlier today.”
The CIA woman burst into laughter. “Seriously, you should definitely consider a career in comedy. Oh that’s right, you do need to consider a career change, don’t you? I hear there have been budget cuts over at the USGS, not to mention all these papers you plagiarized.”
“Funny, they only told me I plagiarized one paper.”
“Damn, they always get creative on you when they don’t need to be.”
“You know who else can get creative?” Jessica asked, feeling bolder with every second spent on phone. “Me.”
“Is that so?”
“You don’t want to help finding my friend, okay. But you go after me? You take my career away from me? That is not nice, lady.”
“Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
“The rules of the game just changed, Tollefsrud.”
“Oh yeah, how?”
“Your 24-hour deadline just melted away. What I want from you is your personal assurance that you will loop the US government in so they can rescue Daphne.”
“You want me to send in the Marines or something?”
“Whatever it takes. Then I want you to lay off Ryker. He’ll help you like he said he would, but he needs more time and more diamonds. If you don’t comply, I will follow up on the promise I made to you earlier. I’ll expose you for who you really are.”
“Oh Jessy, it’s really cute to see you acting all tough. You remind me of my little niece. She’s four years old and you should see her trying to walk in her mom’s high heels, her face full of makeup, looking like a circus clown.” The woman snorted. “I’m sure pretty boy told you already that Daphne is dead, no?”
“Then rescuing her should be easy for you, right? I’m giving you five seconds to agree. Five, four…”
“You’re wasting your breath.”
“Three, two…”
“Don’t be a bitch, it doesn’t suit you.”
“One, zero. Time’s up.”
“There, you feel better, Jessy? Do you feel all grown up now?”
“Tollefsrud, you picked the wrong girl to send over the edge. Good luck dealing with the consequences.”
“Wait–”
Jessica slammed the receiver down as hard as she could. She was pissed off something fierce and her restraint was quickly vanishing. Being a good girl was useless now. She had to become what people didn’t expect her to be.
She grabbed her iPad and sat down at the table. The Wi-Fi signal strangely varied in strength during the day but now it was strong enough. She spent the next half-hour collecting e-mail addresses to every publication she could think of, from the New York Times and Washington Post to European newspapers like De Telegraaf in Amsterdam and Pravda in Moscow.
However, she also focused heavily on local papers serving the Caribbean, knowing fully well they would react the most to her information. In fact, she counted on it. After that, it was a matter of writing her message.
She used strong evocative phrases like American betrayal, imperialist designs, and intense bullying to convey what the CIA was doing in friendly Curaçao. Subtlety was definitely not her chief concern. The only thing she didn’t talk about was the particular Venezuela angle. There was no need to jeopardize national security.
Satisfied with the two paragraphs on the situation and a third on Samantha Tollefsrud’s personal involvement and general douchebaggery, she hit the Send button.
“How you like me now, bitch?”
She wasn’t certain if her message would even be read by anyone but she would consider the mission a success if only one reporter showed up at the hangar to ask questions.
It felt good to do something. Now what else could she do?
* * *
Jessica’s sorrow and sense of ineptitude was fading away. She had a sense her self-pitying days were over. Technically, she was happy having life simply happen to her but now that she knew how it felt to be the architect of her own destiny, she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to being passive.
She got into the Range Rover yet again and drove across the island to Ryker’s home. She rang the doorbell and it was Max who answered, his mouth half-full as he chewed.
“You again?”
“Hi!” she said.
She walked past him and into the house. He didn’t stop her and almost looked resigned.
“Maybe it would be more convenient if you moved in, miss. You’re here more often than me.”
She chuckled. “Where is he, his office?”
“Dining room.”
She changed directions and followed the aroma of roasted chicken and fresh herbs to the dining room. Ryker was at the end of the table while Hubrecht and Vurnon sat nearby. The platters of chicken, rice, and sautéed eggplants had been pushed to the other end because most of the table was taken up by maps.
“Jessica, I did not think I would see you so soon again.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
“I’m sorry, boss,” the overweight man said sheepishly. “She walked in without invitation.”
“It is all right, Max. I do not think you would have been able to stop her anyway. Would you like to dine with us, Jessica?”
Without waiting for an answer, he stood up, went to the other end, and began carving some chicken. At the same time, he shouted in Dutch. The chef appeared moments later with a plate and utensils. Jessica hadn’t come here to eat but it smelled so good that she couldn’t turn it down.
“Uh, thanks.”
The smuggler cleared some space next to him so she could sit down. She started eating while he poured her lemonade from a crystal pitcher. The meat was tender and succulent and it almost made her forget why she was here. Almost.
“I called Tollefsrud again.”
“You did? And what did you converse about?”
“I told her to get off your back.”
“And you think it will make a difference this time?”
She nodded and smiled wickedly. “I gave her a five-second ultimatum and then I wrote e-mails to newspapers to expose her.”
Ryker’s eyes widened, clearly impressed. “And do you think it will work?”
“I don’t know but it felt so good!”
They all laughed and resumed eating. Her eyes were drawn to the maps on the table. There were nautical charts and the topographic map from before. She leaned in and discovered it represented Aruba.
“So you’re really planning something, aren’t you?”
He paused, letting his eyes bore into her as if he wanted to make sure she was trustworthy.
“I said that I would.”
“Are you… Are you going to war or are you going to rescue Daphne?”
“Jessica…”
“I don’t
care about the reason. I wanna come.”
She held his gaze. She hadn’t been this sure about anything in forever.
Chapter 23
Jessica kept her mouth shut while they finished the meal but she kept stealing glances at the maps. She didn’t push it for now and the men kept mostly quiet. When they didn’t speak, they spoke in Dutch or Papiamentu so she wouldn’t understand, making her feel like a child again. Boys and their stupid codes!
The chef and server came to clear away the dishes and Ryker had his henchmen disappear as well. He leaned into his chair and gazed at the maps while the American looked on in fascination. He jotted down some notes.
“I really do want to come, Ryker.”
“And I really do want peace on earth; it does not mean it will happen.”
“It’s my friend out there! There’s no telling what they’re doing to her and I need to help.”
He turned toward her, his face hardening. “You do not understand, Jessica. This is dangerous. What we will be doing tonight will cost some people their lives. Do you understand? People will be killed.”
“They deserve it for what they did to Daphne.”
“What if these people that will die include you? How do you think this will make me feel?”
“You tell me,” she spat defiantly.
He stared and neither spoke for a long time. She knew she would never win a staring contest with him but she had to show him she wasn’t the indecisive lost soul from before.
“I’m ready for this, Ryker.”
“No, you are not. No one is ever ready for this.”
“I need to do this. I need to know that I did something to help.”
“But you have! You have searched high and low for her, you have come to me and convinced me to get involved. You have done so much for your friend.”
“Is that why you’re getting involved? You’re doing this for Daphne, not because Baiz shot at you and stole your merchandise?”
“Our goals converged for a while, yes, but you are correct, I am not doing this for Daphne. I am doing this for you.”
He put his hands on her upper arms and held her still while he kissed her. It was so unexpected that she almost resisted. Then she realized there was no way to resist him. The mere smell of him, his warm breath on her skin, it was enough to make her lose her mind. She savored his lips as he drank her in.
Her benchmark for good relationships was when the guy offered to pay for dinner. This man was about to invade an island for her. She couldn’t doubt his feelings anymore and kissed him with more vigor. She wished the other men weren’t in the house because she wanted to climb on his lap and let him have his way with her. She was growing hot at the thought.
Ryker broke the kiss and gently pushed her away. “Jessica…”
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me into backing down?”
“It is too dangerous for you to come with us.”
“Simply being with you is dangerous.” It certainly was dangerous for her heart, she didn’t add. “Don’t leave me behind.”
“Tell me this tomorrow and I will agree. After tonight, I will never leave you behind.”
This time it was her who kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and wanted to pretend they were alone in the world, that they would never be separated. No matter how far-fetched it was, it was a great fantasy to have.
“I must get ready,” he said with a twinge of regret in his voice. “We need to sail away with the tide.”
He left the dining room with his maps and notes. She lazily followed him after a minute. In the living room the other men were assembled with oversized nylon bags that seemed heavy. One of them was open and she saw that it was filled with weapons.
To the heart-thumping bass groove of Audioslave’s Shadow on the Sun, they went over the plan again – in Dutch so she couldn’t understand, naturally – and before long they were all standing up.
“Get some rest and the next time we see each other I will have your friend.”
“Be careful, please…”
He nodded and turned away.
* * *
She followed his instructions for 15 minutes, just long enough to use the bathroom and realize that all this talk about danger and nobility was nothing but a steaming pile of crap. Daphne was her friend and true friends warranted taking risks.
She recalled Ryker saying they were sailing away and surmised that they had to leave from his private wharf behind the warehouse. She jumped into the SUV and sped through the winding roads like a local, doing her best not to lose her way.
Her heart was light as a feather when she spotted his car in the small lot. She was at the right place! She parked next to it and ran out toward the back. Her footsteps were loud on the wooden planks and Hubrecht was the first to aim a weapon at her.
“It’s me, Jessica!”
She raised her hands so he would properly identify her and he slowly lowered his gun. She began walking forward again.
She had never seen this boat before, or at the very least had not paid attention to it. She didn’t know much about boats but this one was definitely a yacht. It was close to 60 feet long and even through the fast-approaching darkness she could see it was off-white in color. At first she thought there were two stories – whatever you called them in nautical terms, she scoffed – but then noticed that the top floor was what they called a flying bridge, an open area where you could sit and pilot the boat.
At the same time, it had nothing in common with those boats she had seen on shows where drunken frat boys get strapped in to haul in a swordfish. No, this one was a lot sleeker, more luxurious. When she was close enough she saw the name stenciled in the back: The Swimming Dutchman.
Ryker came out to the aft deck where Hubrecht and Vurnon were, getting ready to cast off. He looked at her and his face went from surprise to annoyance to resignation. He crossed his arms as she came all the way to the edge of the pier.
“I thought we had made a deal, Jessica.”
“And I think I got screwed on that deal. So I’m coming along.”
“Boss?” Hubrecht asked for guidance.
“Let her come, she will change her mind on the way to Aruba.”
It was impossible to conceal her grin as she climbed aboard. It felt good to finally get her way, not to be at anyone’s mercy. Ryker held her hand as she steadied herself.
“Come inside, we are about to leave.”
The sun was almost completely gone and the ocean glimmered with a few last orange sparkles. Taking into account the luxurious salon she was standing in, this could have been a fairytale. There were an L-shaped sofa and a settee with a low teak table between them. The walls were mostly covered with windows but around the glass it was teak again.
The engine roared and Jessica sat down a second before they cast off. At the end of the sitting area was a U-shaped dinette. She could see Max in the cockpit through a glass partition.
“How far are we?” she asked as the men joined her inside.
“Roughly 60 nautical miles.”
“That’s not so bad, right?”
“On land, no. We are not on land though. The journey should take four hours.”
“Oh.”
She decided to keep quiet for the time being. There was no sense making more of a fool out of herself and giving them further reasons to laugh at her, to lament her coming. While she did her best to be stone-like, she simply observed the three men. They were by and large silent and if they spoke it was in one-word sentences. They were comfortable with each other, a well-oiled machine.
Hubrecht plopped a bag on the dinette table and the three of them retrieve all sorts of tactical gear, webbing, holsters, and bulletproof vests. Aside from the heavy Kevlar vests, they strapped them on immediately. She could see they were also making a distinct pile, presumably for Max.
Then, the second satchel went up on the table. Judging from Vurnon’s strained expression, it was incredibly heavy. It was filled wit
h the guns she had seen earlier at the house. They pulled out a bunch of submachine guns and racked the slides to make sure nothing jammed. Then they loaded magazines with bullets.
She couldn’t believe how professional they all looked doing this. They were scary in their efficiency but at the same time there was no denying that this was the ultimate show of machismo, of raw masculinity. She was strangely turned on and it alarmed her. She had never been one to be impressed by a man in uniform but watching the single-minded Ryker cocking military-grade firearms was beginning to make her sweat.
A lot.
Chapter 24
The Dutchman said something and Hubrecht handed him a fancy black handgun with a gadget mounted underneath. A laser sight perhaps? Once he was satisfied with its functioning, he inserted a fresh clip and holstered it in the low-riding sheath along his right thigh. This struck her as peculiar.
“Where’s your big shiny silver gun?” she asked.
“The Desert Eagle?”
“I don’t know, the scary one.”
He laughed softly. “It is a good weapon to scare people, indeed. It is large and one of the strongest calibers commercially available. Sadly, that is the extent of its usefulness. It does not hold enough ammunition for our purpose tonight and it is quite unwieldy. I prefer this SIG Sauer P226.”
“Do I get one?”
Vurnon burst into laughter and the other bodyguard joined in. Ryker smiled good-naturedly before shaking his head.
“I have told you already that you are not coming with us. Once we reach our destination you will wait on the yacht for our return.”
She was about to argue but realized it wasn’t time yet to tell these boys she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She opted for a different approach.
“Let’s say, hypothetically, that while y’all are away I get attacked by someone you missed. Shouldn’t I get a gun?”
Ryker folded his arms and leaned against the table, crossing his ankles in the process. His lips curled up in amusement.
“All right, in the spirit of hypothetical conversations. Have you ever handled firearms before?”
“Well, I’m no expert or anything. I fired a shotgun once, I was 13.”
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