As consciousness returned once more, the one thing that was clear was the silence. She struggled to keep her eyes open. Her head pounded and she lost consciousness again for a minute, a second—she wasn’t sure.
This time when she came to she was groggy but able to sit up. As she did she saw the shadow of something against the wheelhouse. She tried to stand and slipped. Her hand caught her fall. She looked up, blinking, trying to clear her vision. She saw that Ben had somehow managed to get the pistol. But he had no chance to use it, for her father’s arm came up. His arm smashed into his assailant, knocking him backward, sending the pistol flying.
“Go!” Her father waved. He glanced her way for just a second. Then, he was pulled back into a chokehold. His assailant had taken advantage of his brief distraction. Her father directed her with his eyes. Glancing to a place behind her. There was a life raft and she knew that he wanted her to leave, to leave him alone with his attacker.
“No!” she screamed, scrambling to her feet. She clenched her fists—her hands were empty. No phone. But something else caught her eye. It was the hammer her father had used earlier to fix the back ladder. She grabbed it.
Despite her earlier failure, she wasn’t willing to give up. She’d do whatever it took to help her father. She wasn’t thinking straight. She was unschooled in any sort of self-defense but desperate times called for desperate measures. Her attack could confuse, muddy the waters, give her father an opening. And with that her only thought, she charged forward. She was unaware of the breeze that lifted her short sleep T-shirt revealing her upper thighs. Unaware that the silk wrap had slipped off her shoulders or that it floated behind her. Her father choked as Ben crushed his throat with one arm. But she’d caught Ben’s attention, she could feel his eyes on her and that was all she needed. She’d become the distraction and hopefully by doing that give her father enough of an edge to get free. Unfortunately, she could see from the look on his face that the only thing that stood between her and rape was her father. If her father died...
Ben looked at her with eyes filled with lust. He smiled in a way that held an ugly promise, one no woman would fail to recognize and one no woman would ever want. It made her feel dirty and terrified at once. She was frightened not just for her father but for herself. Too late, she realized her mistake. She should have put something else on, anything but what she had grabbed in her panic.
She’d never trusted him. She wished she’d told her father that. But it was too late. As if killing her father wasn’t enough... It wouldn’t happen. Her father wasn’t dead and no matter how many times she had to remind herself of that, it wouldn’t happen.
She raised the hammer and brought it down, catching Ben in the shoulder. He roared, releasing his grip on her father, reaching for her.
“Dad!” she screamed as she scrambled to get away from Ben.
Her father slammed Ben’s arm into the wheelhouse. He buried his fist in the man’s midsection, throwing him off balance. Another punch hit him in the jaw and Ben gasped for breath. His third punch knocked Ben down.
“Run, Ava!” her father shouted and didn’t give her a chance to consider before he had grabbed her hand. Together they ran, stumbling, propping each other up heading for the back of the yacht.
“Get in the life raft,” he hissed in an urgent undertone. “Get out of here. I’ll catch up. Once I...” His words were slurred. A tooth was broken and blood streamed from his mouth. His hair was wild and his eyes glazed. “Go.” He was half lifting her over the edge of the yacht, giving her no option. She shook her head. Her fractured thoughts spun.
“Call Faisal!” her father said with a shove that had her landing in the dinghy. “Al-Nassar,” he added as if she wouldn’t know who he meant with just his given name. There was no other Faisal who had been in their life. But why call him now? Then she remembered—Nassar Security. There was no time for thoughts or justifications—there was no time for anything. They needed to get out of here. Already her father was undoing the ropes that attached the small craft to the yacht.
“No.” She couldn’t leave him alone. “Come with me!”
“This is the only way you can help me, kid.” It was the pet name he’d always used for her, and still did despite her recent quarter-of-a-century status. He’d teased her on her birthday about how old she was and how old that made him.
Her eyes met his.
“Go.”
“No.” The word was strangled, panicked. As if she had any choice. She was already below deck level and had to look up. “If you stay, so do I. I won’t leave you alone.”
He was so banged up. She couldn’t leave him.
“I need you to go,” he said firmly. “I can’t be distracted trying to save you. I need to know you’re safe.”
It was his way of promising that he’d make it.
She knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind. Her teeth were pressing so hard into her lip that she tasted blood. And none of that stopped the shaking, the fear for both of them and for him especially.
“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”
“Here.” She stood up, fighting for balance as she reached up and handed him the hammer. She had to trust that he’d be safe. There was no help for it. He’d taken the option of choice from her. And she could see now that the life raft was so small it might sink under the weight of both of them.
He took the hammer, his fingers brushing hers, and at the same time pushed something into her hand. She didn’t look but only closed her hand around the damp plastic.
“Call...” He wiped a trail of blood from his upper lip. His nose was bleeding, the blood mixing with that from his lip and trailing down his chin. “Al-Nassar. The number’s there,” he reminded her in a voice that was pitched only for her. Behind them she could see his assailant struggling to his feet.
“Go!” The word echoed like the needless repetition it was. She had no choice. Choice was the option that had been removed from her arsenal. Her father had decided. She would be safe and he would face... She couldn’t think, didn’t know. She only knew that she was alone.
“Dad...” That one word trailed, bottomless and hopeless. For there was nothing to say.
A gunshot had her on her knees with a scream as the raft rocked and threatened to tip. She clutched the rope lashed to the side. The raft settled enough that she could look up. There was no doubt that what she’d heard was a handgun. She’d heard them many times, on the firing range with her father.
Her head spun and she sat back down. When she looked up to where she had last seen her father, he was gone. Waves pushed against the side of the life raft taking it farther from the yacht. She needed to get to shore, get help. She pulled the engine cord, grimacing at the old-fashioned technology. Her father was usually the first to buy the newest and latest, except for the life raft. Its age was jarring in the scheme of everything else that was always so top-of-the-line. She yanked the cord again. Her arm ached and nothing happened.
Her father’s last words seemed to spin in an endless reel through her mind.
Faisal. She had to call Faisal.
It was her last thought before she passed out in a heap in the middle of the dinghy.
* * *
BEN WASN’T SURE how it had happened. But he’d gotten lucky and landed in the water. He’d just missed hitting his head on the way down. He’d seen Dan fall overboard. But then he’d fallen in himself. It didn’t matter, he’d planned to swim for shore anyway. He’d shot Dan first and he’d gone over a dead man. The yacht was on autopilot, its navigational system dead, heading somewhere out to sea. In other circumstances he might have laughed. It would keep the authorities occupied trying to find the boat.
There was only one threat left and that was the little witch of a daughter Dan had managed to dump in the life raft. There’d been nothing he could do to stop
him. It had all happened so fast. He felt a twinge of regret. Now Dan was gone and the yacht was already too far away to be a consideration. He’d raised the anchor before the altercation began.
He swam toward shore. He’d locked in his mind in what direction and how far away they had drifted. Yet, the weather system was moving in faster than had been reported. It was a squall, and that and his aching shoulder had him gulping water and struggling as the weather worsened. Combine the weather with the fact that his clothes weighed him down, and it was rough going. He reached down, wrestling with the laces of his oxfords, finally managing to get them off and tie them to the belt loop of his pants. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He wished he hadn’t had to kill Dan, but once he’d made the decision, he’d accomplished what he’d meant to. He’d shot Dan and he’d fallen overboard. Now there was only one problem he had to resolve before he could become a rich man. The one fly in the ointment was Dan’s daughter. She wasn’t supposed to be on the yacht. Yet, there she’d been like it was her right. He hadn’t liked her the first and only other time he’d met her.
She’d heard too much and she’d injured him. Neither offense could be forgiven. A wave pushed him backward and had him swallowing water. He choked and flipped onto his back, resting, thinking. He had to get to shore and then he had to find Ava Adams, and when he did, the little witch had to die.
Chapter Two
Saturday, June 11
The United States Coast Guard received the first distress call shortly before 0100 hours from BASRA. The acronym stood for the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association. A volunteer association, their resources were stretched with other cases and they were more than willing to request help. Two hours after the information was in the hands of the United States Coast Guard, that information was relayed to the Wyoming branch of Nassar Security.
It had taken that long for the connection between the owner of the yacht, Dan Adams, and Sheik Faisal Al-Nassar to be made. The connection came from the yacht owner’s electronic log that had also provided their last location off the coast of Paradise Island. Dan Adams had included in the log his next destination and purpose. A meeting in Fort Lauderdale with Faisal Al-Nassar.
Faisal was told that the call for help was made on a cell phone. The call lasted exactly nine seconds and then had broken off and been too short to trace. It had been a male caller who had provided only two words, Mayday and Ava. Ava was Dan’s stepdaughter’s name and the other person aboard that yacht. There was no record of anyone else being on the yacht. The call had ended immediately after that.
Faisal couldn’t believe that the father and daughter were missing. He was reminded of how long it had been since he’d spoken to Ava. While her father had remained in contact, he and Ava had lost touch. Still, the father and daughter were considered friends of the family. Now if it had been possible, Faisal would have left to begin the search immediately. But not only did he have to get to the Jackson, Wyoming, airport where they kept the company jet, the pilot had to ready himself and the craft for takeoff. They followed the twenty-minute rule. That was how long it took the pilot to prepare for takeoff.
Faisal glanced at his snowboard with regret. He’d just hung it up after waxing it and preparing it for a trip to Mount Hood in Oregon where there was enough snow to board throughout the year. Now that would have to wait. The thoughts of snowboarding were only a way of grounding himself, by thinking of what he loved, before being immersed in a case that was much too personal.
He brought his attention to the immediate as he called his brother Emir. Emir, the oldest in their family and the head of Nassar Security, was located in their head office, which was situated in Marrakech, Morocco. He knew without question that he could count on Emir to relay the plight of their old friend to the rest of the Al-Nassar family.
“Dan and Ava are lost at sea. The US Coast Guard is deployed as is the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association. Of course, the latter is volunteer. I’m on wing to fly to Florida,” he said abruptly when Emir answered.
“What happened?” Emir asked. “They were on vacation. Last I heard they...” The words ended on an expletive.
“The yacht was last seen just off the coast of Paradise Island, Bahamas. It’s since disappeared off the radar. When I spoke to Dan, he said he was heading to Fort Lauderdale earlier than planned. We had a meeting set up. A change of plans and then they disappear. Is there a connection?” Faisal asked. There was a raw edge to his voice that he made no effort to mute. “Look, I’ve got a plane to catch, I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll let the rest of the family know. Dan stuck by us when everyone else thought expanding the business to the United States was a crazy idea. We’ll stick by him now.”
“Definitely,” Faisal said, remembering all Dan had done. The Al-Nassars were an old and revered family in Morocco and Nassar Security was an established business in Marrakech. His family had been anxious to expand and it was partially because of Dan, who had lived in Wyoming at the time, that they had chosen that state. The rest, he knew, had been his own doing. He’d pushed the envelope with his siblings. He loved Wyoming and the wide open spaces. It was where he’d finished his degree. Fresh out of university, he’d been eager to be part of the new venture, especially if he could convince his siblings to choose Wyoming...and he had. He’d loved the new branch from the beginning, particularly because of the challenge. He’d known that in Wyoming his name and status as Sheik Faisal Al-Nassar would not open doors like it did at home. The idea had challenged and excited him. And despite the obstacles, his brothers had agreed—they’d all welcomed the challenge. And so Nassar Security had expanded. Dan had been a mentor to him in the early years.
During that first year of getting a footing in a new country, Dan had been the father that Faisal had lost too young. He shook his head as if that would dislodge memories. He’d never forget how special Dan Adams was to their family. Nor, despite losing touch with her, did he forget how special his daughter had once been to him. In fact, he was reeling more from knowing that Ava too was now considered lost at sea. His mind kept going back to the dark-haired beauty. He’d spent his last year of university with her. He remembered the jokes, the teasing and the parties, and he remembered something else—how she had made him feel.
Three hours later, from one of the Nassar Gulfstream jets, Faisal looked out the window. It was dark and cloudy in the minutes before the sun began to rise. His mind went beyond what he could see to the Atlantic where two people he cared for were now missing.
According to the United States Coast Guard, there had been only one call for help. It was thought to have come from the Adamses’ yacht as that was the only vessel reported missing. They had heard a name but the call had disconnected. There hadn’t been enough to give them a location, nothing. All they had was the name Ava spoken in a male voice.
He pushed back a strand of hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. He should get it cut but there never seemed to be enough time. He’d tried it short but that hadn’t lasted. Ava had once told him that she loved his hair just over the tips of his earlobes and longer if he’d consider it. The latter wasn’t a consideration but the former had stuck in his mind. He’d met her during his senior year in university and they’d become friends. They’d both grown up since then and gone their own ways. That part of his life was long over. At least that’s what he told himself. Except today. He was again faced with the truth. He’d never forgotten her.
“We’ll find them,” he said in an undertone as if saying the words made them somehow more real. Maybe the words made his doubts of success smaller. While the Bahamas were close to the continental United States there was still a lot of ocean to cover. Without coordinates of any kind, they had only guesswork. Despite that and maybe because of it, he was not going to sit around waiting. Dan had planned to see him in Fort Lauderdale—it was up to him to make sure that meeting happened.
&
nbsp; His thoughts went back to the last phone call.
Based on what they knew, the Adamses could be anywhere. They were no longer close to Paradise Island’s shoreline. A search by the Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Association had already exhausted that option. Wherever they were, whatever had happened, the answers were on that yacht.
* * *
AVA ADAMS OPENED her eyes. Her head ached and something deep inside her hurt. That hurt was overshadowing the thumping that seemed to want to break her skull. Yet it wasn’t pain. Not a physical pain but something more emotional. Fear. Anger. She didn’t know what. Instead, she shivered. She was alone and she wasn’t on the yacht. Where was she?
The yacht was gone. She had no idea what had happened to either it or her father. It had disappeared while she’d slipped out of consciousness. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. Nothing held any relevance, not time nor space—nor anything that had happened. All of it was a frightening blur.
The breeze ran light, cool fingers across her damp skin and she shivered. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, all she knew was that she was alone and there was no land in sight. Her head pounded and her vision was blurred. She couldn’t see clearly no matter how hard she tried. She was fighting to remain conscious so that she could make that promised call to get help. Her father was counting on her.
The thought made her prop herself up despite her shaking limbs. She tried not to look at the dark water. There was only a thin layer of rubber and canvas between her and it. She couldn’t think of it any more than she could contemplate the fate of her father. All she knew was that the yacht was gone and with it her father. She didn’t know when it had disappeared or if her father was on board or if he was even alive. She struggled to sit up and the world spun. She took a deep breath and passed out.
Sheik Defense Page 2