by John J. Rust
Pilka looked at Karen again, his hatred for her trying to overcome his fear.
***
Rastun got to his feet. Piet threw a punch. Rastun blocked it. He rammed his knee into Piet’s hip. The South African groaned and clenched his teeth. He punched Rastun in the gut, then went for the sheath on his belt. Out came an ominous-looking knife with little oval cutouts running down the middle blade. A Sultan’s Warrior.
Rastun backed away just as Piet slashed. He felt the blade whip past his chest, missing him by inches.
Rastun tried to keep his distance. Not easy to do in the confined space of the corridor. He thought of the AK-74 and the SIG lying on the deck behind him. The last thing he wanted to do was turn his back on Piet. He still had his tactical knife in his pocket. But by the time he took it out, Piet would be on him.
They eyed one another, waiting for an opening. Water lapped over their boots.
Let him come to you. Charging an opponent with a knife while you had only your bare hands was a good way to get killed. Rastun would wait for him to make the first move, then counter it.
Piet didn’t disappoint. He moved in and slashed. Rastun avoided it. Piet immediately followed with a thrust. Rastun moved to the right and clamped down on Piet’s wrist with both hands. He tried to twist the knife out of his grasp.
Piet punched him in the side of his head. Rastun let up his hold on the South African for a moment.
A moment was all Piet needed.
The blade dug into Rastun’s side.
FIFTY
Karen’s head snapped up when she heard the agonized cry from outside.
“Jack,” her voice cracked.
She stared at the door. Part of her wanted to open it, to see what was happening. Another part was too scared by what she might find.
Her heart pounded. The pain that seared her ribs was soon forgotten. Was Jack hurt? Was he dy…?
Tears spilled from her eyes. She didn’t want to finish that thought, didn’t want to think that the last words she said to him were words of anger. She recalled the hurt she felt that Jack believed she had betrayed him, betrayed the entire expedition. How could she ever forgive him for something like that?
Yet just beyond that door he was fighting that sick, perverted fuck, risking his life for her. How many other men would do that for her, for anyone? Karen saw the fear and anger on Jack’s face. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to tear Piet apart, then hold her in his arms and never let go.
What if he dies? What if I never tell him…?
Karen stood, gritting her teeth against the burst of pain from her ribs. They were definitely broken. Broken by Jack! But what he’d done had saved her life. She could deal with broken ribs better than being shot.
She had to do something to help Jack. She looked around the storeroom and noticed some darts scattered on the floor. One of them had a red tail.
Golden Poison Frog toxin.
Karen bent down to get it when she noticed movement from the corner of the storeroom.
Raleigh Pilka stood up from behind a tarp, an Aster 7 dart gun in his hands. His face twisted in pure hatred.
“Hello, Karen.”
***
Rastun let out a primal scream. He head-butted Piet in the nose. Bone and cartilage cracked and caved in. Piet howled and stumbled back. The knife came out of Rastun’s flesh. He staggered against the wall and looked down. Blood stained his left side and ran down his pant leg. The pain grew into a white hot fire throughout his body. He pressed his left hand against the wound and clenched his teeth. The fight wasn’t over. He had to keep going.
Rangers didn’t quit.
He reached for his pocket and the tactical knife inside.
Piet charged. Rastun brought up his right forearm, aiming for his opponent’s bloodied nose.
He hit Piet’s chin instead.
Piet slammed him against the wall and kneed him in the wound. Rastun cried out and sagged to the deck.
Piet’s boot slammed into his face.
***
“Raleigh, please.” Karen held up her hands. “Don’t do this. I’m begging you, think about Emily. She needs me.”
“You think I care what happens to that little piece of trash? She’s the reason my life went to hell!”
“Don’t you dare call her—”
“Shut up!” Pilka jabbed the dart gun at her.
Karen shivered, staring at the barrel. Was there a toxin dart in there? Oh God, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave Emily alone.
“Everything was fine until you got pregnant. I would have paid for an abortion, but you wanted to have that thing. You thought it would make us a real family. Stupid, delusional whore! You cost me my real family! My job! Everything! And then you had the audacity to walk out on me!”
“Because you were groping every woman you worked with!”
Pilka trembled with anger. He moved closer to Karen. The gun was aimed at her chest.
Ice formed in the pit of her stomach. A clear image of Emily formed in her mind’s eye.
Another image accompanied it. Jack.
“Raleigh, please don’t. Please let me go. Please let me take care of our daughter.”
“She’s not my daughter! She’s a fucking leech!”
Rage overshadowed Karen’s fear. How could she have ever loved this man? Let him touch her? Have a child with him?
“You fucking bastard. How can you say that about your own child? At least Jack—”
“To hell with your precious Jack. The only reason you’re sleeping with him is to piss me off.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Then why would you?”
Karen drew a breath and squared her shoulders. “Because I love him, more than I ever loved you.”
Pilka’s eyes widened. Veins protruded from his neck. His look was beyond fury.
Karen tensed, expecting a toxin dart to hit her any second.
Pilka glanced at the dart gun. “Too quick.”
He raised it over his head and swung. Karen brought up her right arm and blocked it.
She heard the crack of a bone breaking.
Karen screamed and clutched her arm.
Pilka clubbed her on the back. Karen crumpled to the deck.
Pilka kicked her in the stomach. It felt like her ribs exploded. She shrieked and rolled on her back. A fist struck her in the face. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth before she blacked out.
FIFTY-ONE
Blood trickled from Rastun’s mouth and chin as he tried to push himself up.
Piet kicked him in the face again.
“Pathetic.” He looked down at him, slowly moving his knife back and forth. “I expected more of a challenge from an Army Ranger.”
Rastun drew a wheezing breath. A vice crushed his ribs. Fangs of pain sank into his side. He swore he heard Karen screaming from the storeroom. Was she in trouble?
Once more, he tried to get up.
Piet kicked him in the stomach. Rastun rolled on his back. He felt something under his right buttock, something small and metal.
It was his tactical knife. It must have fallen out of his pocket.
He rolled on his side and curled up in a fetal position.
The South African laughed. “What, gonna have a cry now?”
Rastun moved his hands toward stomach, pretending to cover his side. Piet kicked him again. Rastun grunted in pain. He wedged his left hand under his side.
“You don’t have to be scared, Ranger. I’m not going to kill you. Well, not right away.”
Rastun moaned and rolled slightly from side-to-side, making a production out of the pain thrashing his body. His fingers slid through the water and under his damp pants. He felt the hilt of his tactical knife.
“I want you to see something before I finish you off,” said Piet.
Rastun wrapped his hand around the knife.
“I want you to see your little photographer girlfriend screaming, as I’m peeling
off her skin and fucking her up the ass.”
Rastun looked up at him. “Fuck …YOU!”
He pulled out his hand from under him. The blade popped out. Rastun roared and drove it into Piet’s balls. A banshee-like shriek burst from his mouth. Rastun pushed the blade deeper into Piet’s scrotum. He then gave it a twist. Blood poured over his hand. He pulled out the knife.
Piet wailed and collapsed on his knees. His Sultan’s Warrior knife splashed on the deck.
Rastun pushed himself to his feet. He stared down at Piet’s knife.
Pocketing his tactical knife, he picked up the Sultan’s Warrior. Rastun grabbed Piet’s head and yanked it back. The blade flashed across his throat. Blood cascaded into the water covering the deck. A gurgling noise came from Piet as he clamped his hands over his severed throat. He fell on his side. The gurgling noise tapered off. Soon Andres Piet made no more sounds.
A wave of dizziness swept through Rastun. He leaned against the wall and looked down at his bloody side. He needed to get a first aid kit. Hell, he needed to get to a fucking doctor.
That’s when he remembered the scream coming from the storeroom.
Karen.
He moved around Piet’s corpse and up the corridor. The blood-red water came up to his ankles.
“Karen!” Rastun nearly fell against the door as another dizzy spell hit him. He’d lost a lot of blood. It probably wouldn’t be long before he went into shock.
But Karen’s welfare came ahead of his.
“Karen.” He twisted the knob and opened the hatch.
Dread surged through him when he saw Karen on the floor, moaning, blood trickling out of her mouth. Pilka stood near her, Aster 7 in his hands.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Rastun staggered toward him.
Pilka raised the Aster 7. Rastun slashed with the Sultan’s Warrior and struck the dart gun. It tumbled out of Pilka’s hands.
Another dizzy spell hit Rastun. He tried to shake it off.
Pilka pushed him. Rastun lost his balance and fell. Pilka stomped on his wounded side. Rastun howled. The knife slipped from his hands. He clenched his teeth, pushing through the pain. He started to sit up.
“Don’t.”
Pilka had retrieved the Aster 7 and aimed it at Rastun.
FIFTY-TWO
Rastun glanced at the knife. It couldn’t be more than a foot out of his reach.
And as soon as I reach for it, I’m dead. It didn’t matter that Pilka was fat, middle-aged and never served in the military. From this distance, he couldn’t miss.
“I’ve got you, and I’ve got the bitch.” Pilka grinned as he kept the Aster 7 trained on him. “This is too good to be true.”
“Pilka, you don’t want to do this.”
“Why not? That slut wasn’t the only one to ruin my life. You did, too! Everything was going to turn around for me. We were going to make millions off those Sea Raptors. I’d have enough money to start a new life, someplace where Karen and my ex-wife couldn’t get to me. But you had to play the crusading hero. You had to find that mansion. Why? Why?” he yelled. “All you had to do was march around with your gun and look tough, and everything would have been fine.”
Pilka chuckled. “Well, you don’t look so tough now.”
“Think about it.” Rastun hoped to keep him talking, to buy time for Geek and Sherlock to take care of Piet’s men and get down here. Or maybe he could find some opening take down Pilka himself. “Right now you’re facing a long stay in prison. But at least you’ll be alive. You’ll have a shot at parole, especially if you help us put Gunderson out of business. If you kill Karen and me, you can forget about that. You’ll be looking at the death penalty.”
Pilka stood in silence. Rastun studied the man’s face and eyes. He could tell the marine biologist was thinking it over. Now if he’d just put down the dart gun, or look away. He could—
A wave of dizziness went through him. He slumped to one side.
Dammit, no! He couldn’t afford to be weak now.
Rastun’s head cleared. “You’re not a killer, Raleigh. You’re a scientist. You’re trained to study evidence and come to a logical conclusion.”
Pilka just stared at him.
“You’re in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You have two former Rangers up top to deal with.” Rastun prayed Geek and Sherlock were still alive. “Even if you somehow get past them, the Coast Guard has every boat and helicopter they can spare converging on our position. Do you really think you can escape?”
Pilka bit his lower lip. He still kept his eyes, and the dart gun, on Rastun.
Come on, look away.
A new look of resolve formed on Pilka’s fleshy face. “You’d like that. Have me sit in some fucking cell, while you and that whore enjoy your lives, screw each other every chance you get, and laugh at how you both destroyed my life. I’ll take my chances on death row.”
Rastun saw Pilka’s hands tighten around the Aster 7’s pistol grip. He rolled to the left, hoping to avoid the dart, then come up and attack Pilka. It was a desperate plan, but desperate was all he had.
Rastun sprang to his feet. At least, he tried to. The pain in his side sliced through his body. Another dizzy spell took hold.
I’m dead.
His vision cleared. He remained on his feet.
Pilka was on the floor, face down in the water flowing from the corridor. A dart with a red tail stuck out of his back. Rastun blinked a couple of times, not really believing what he saw.
The dart containing the Golden Poison Frog toxin remained in Pilka’s back.
“Jack?”
He turned his head. Karen stood over Pilka’s body.
How…? Rastun checked around the room. He noticed a pile of darts on the floor a few feet from Karen. All of them had the blue tails of a tranquilizer dart. Karen must have grabbed the lone toxin dart.
His adrenaline began to wear off. His knees buckled. He half-sat, half-fell to the deck.
“Oh my God, Jack!”
Karen hurried over and knelt beside him. She clutched his shoulders, a distressed look on her face. “What happened?”
“Fight. Hell of a fight. But you should see the other guy.” He tried to smile. Even doing that hurt.
Tears welled up in Karen’s eyes as she gazed at his bloody side. “I’m gonna get a first aid kit. You lie down. Don’t move too much.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Rastun laid back, water flowing around him. Only a couple of inches deep now. It would be more in a few minutes.
Karen ripped the first aid kit from its wall mounting and rushed back to Rastun. He noticed her right arm hanging by her side. Her teeth were bared in a pained expression. Dark bruises covered her face.
What the hell had Pilka done to her?
He looked at the marine biologist’s body. Whatever he’d done, he’d paid for it.
Karen opened the kit. She used a pair of shears to cut away the part of his t-shirt around the wound. Next, she doused a handful of gauze with disinfectant and wiped it over the wound.
“I’m sorry, Karen. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” She started bandaging the wound.
“I should’ve known you weren’t the mole. I should’ve known you’d never work for someone like Norman Gunderson. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.”
He lifted his head. “I love you. I am so sorry if I hurt you.”
“Stop talking like you’re gonna die!” yelled Karen. “I finally met a great guy, so you can bet your ass there’s no way I’m gonna lose you.”
Rastun smiled and leaned his head back as Karen bandaged his wound.
Footsteps splashed in the corridor. Geek and Sherlock, he assumed.
Or maybe Piet’s remaining two mercenaries.
“Gun.” Rastun sat up. “Get the dart gun.”
“Jack, you can’t—”
“Gun!” he repeated through clenched teeth.
Karen gave him a worried look, but picked up the Aster 7 Pilka had us
ed. She gave it to Rastun, who rolled on his stomach, grimacing as pain tore through his insides. He felt another dizzy spell coming on. He clenched his teeth and aimed at the open hatch.
The splashes drew closer.
Someone swung around the doorframe, holding a pistol. Much of the person’s body was out of view, but whoever it was wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses.
“Don’t shoot!” shouted Karen.
“I found the Cap’n and Karen,” said Geek. He entered the room, Sherlock right behind him.
“Help him,” Karen pleaded. “He’s hurt.”
“So are you.” Sherlock bent down and examined her wounds.
Rastun set down the Aster 7 and rolled on his back. Geek knelt beside him.
“Good God, sir. What happened?”
“Got stabbed. Probably some broken ribs.”
“At least you’re better off than him.” Geek nodded toward Piet’s body.
“What happened to the other two bad guys?”
“A couple of flash/bangs, a couple of double-taps to the head, and it’s another win for the good guys.”
Rastun nodded. “Rangers lead the way.”
“Rangers lead the way,” Geek repeated.
“Doctor Ehrenberg says there’s a Coast Guard helicopter fifteen minutes out,” Sherlock reported. “We’ll get you and Karen to a hospital in no time.”
The marshal took off his field jacket, wrapped it around Karen’s right arm and taped it to create a makeshift splint. He also gave her a cold pack from the first aid kit for the bruises on her face. Geek took the silver thermal blanket from the kit and gave it to Rastun.
“You lost a lot of blood, sir. We don’t want you going into shock.”
Rastun wrapped the blanket around him. Geek helped him into the corridor, where the water came up past their ankles. Sherlock and Karen followed. When they emerged topside, Rastun saw Ehrenberg, Malakov and Montebello near the stern. He felt the heat coming from the flames that engulfed the Coast Guard MLB. The mercenaries’ boat, meanwhile, had drifted about thirty feet away from Epic Venture.