Dreamboat

by Judith Gould

  “Now I have to take you with me, Crissy,” he whispered. “You’re going on a little boat ride with me before the ship explodes.”

  Ship explodes? she thought miserably. God help me. What am I going to do? She tried to kick him again, but she was completely pinned against the beam and couldn’t move.

  Luca strode into the disco and scanned the busy room. There was always a bigger crowd on formal nights, and the guests always stayed up drinking and dancing much later than usual. Tonight was no exception. Walking toward the back of the big room, he looked from table to table, but saw no sign of Crissy. Nor did he see the captain and his party—an odd circumstance, since he or some of the officers should be at a table in this area. The dance floor, he thought, reassuring himself that all was well.

  He walked toward the packed dance floor, scanning its perimeter, but seeing neither Crissy nor any of the ship’s officers. The constantly moving lights made seeing difficult, and their constantly changing colors didn’t help either. Moving closer to the dance floor, he kept searching, but to no avail. Finally, he walked onto the floor itself and began weaving his way through the throng of writhing bodies, but Crissy was nowhere in sight. He walked toward the port side of the room, his eyes constantly on the lookout, but he was rewarded with nothing.

  From a table nearby, Monika Graf called to him. He focused on her. The breather, he thought. The miserable bitch who harassed Crissy. Monika was fanning herself with an old-fashioned hand fan, and a smile wreathed her heavily made-up face. “Doctor Santo,” she called, waving him toward her.

  Luca went to the table at once. “Have you seen Crissy?” he asked, making an effort to be polite. He would like nothing more than to give the woman a good tongue-lashing, but restrained himself.

  “I saw the darling child leave only a few moments ago,” Monika said. “She went out alone after the captain and his party left.”

  “The captain left?” he said.

  Monika nodded. “Odd, isn’t it? He always closes the place.” She laughed lightly. “But I imagine Crissy was only going to the loo. Why don’t you sit with me and wait for her? We have some wonderful champagne. A Taittinger, I believe. Quite good.”

  Luca’s eyes continued to search the room. “Thank you,” he said, “but I don’t think so. I’ll have a quick look for Crissy.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t worry, darling boy,” Monika said. “She’ll be back any minute. I know she was waiting for you. No doubt with bated breath.” She laughed lightly again and patted the seat next to hers. “Do have a seat and some champagne, won’t you?”

  “No, thanks,” Luca replied. “I must go find her.” He left the table, rushing toward the starboard exit.

  Captain Papadapolis, followed by five officers, reached the Security office. Rather than wait for one of his underlings to open the locked door to the area, he took out his keys and searched for the correct one.

  “Who made the call, sir?” Thrassos asked.

  “Christopolous,” the captain replied. “Said he needed every hand here. I don’t get it. There’s no one in lockup but Vilos, but we’ll soon see what the problem is.” He finally found the right key, a short, thick, round-barreled steel one that was virtually impossible for an outsider to duplicate, and the lock it fit would present a time-consuming difficulty to even the most accomplished criminal. The small brig was inside the Security office, and although it was seldom needed, it was built to hold the most hardened of criminals.

  Captain Papadapolis inserted the key in the lock and turned it to the right. The door lock sprang loose at once, and he entered the office, his officers in their dress whites close behind. “Close and lock that behind you, Thrassos,” he said.

  “What the hell—?” the captain stood, arms akimbo, surveying the sight before him, his officers gathered around him.

  “Jesus, sir,” Thrassos swore as he turned around after locking the door.

  Christopolous, Anasthasia, and five other security personnel lay immobile on the floor, their hands and feet bound securely with duct tape. Across their mouths and wrapped around their heads, duct tape made certain they would make no sound, if indeed they could breathe.

  Captain Papadapolis looked for signs of life, but he only had an instant to witness the scene. Before he could detect anything, the air in the room suddenly filled with fumes, their powerful stench stinging their nostrils and burning their eyes. The gas seemed to come from every direction, and the captain swiveled his head, trying to ascertain where a gas canister might be, but his eyes shut before he could see the source of the gas. The first to enter the room, the captain was the first to collapse, falling to his knees, then head and torso over onto Christopolous’ legs. The other five men fell almost as a unit, collapsing in a heap just inside the door, hardly aware of what had caused their falls.

  “We’re on a collision course, Crissy,” he whispered, still smiling. “With a tanker loaded with propane.” He slammed against her even harder, and could hear rather than feel the slight expulsion of air from her mouth on his glove. “The Sea Nymph will be blown out of the water. There will only be bits and pieces of anything or anyone left, and that includes your boyfriend, Crissy.”

  She tried to kick him again, but she couldn’t move her legs at all. She could feel tears rolling down her cheeks, and it infuriated her that this monster could see her anguish and fear.

  “Now you’re going to be a good little girl, aren’t you, Crissy? I’m going to put you in the boat where you’ll be safe and sound. Aren’t you happy? I’m saving your life so we can have some fun when we reach land.” His intense gray eyes held an evil glint that was more frightening than ever, and his lips formed a kiss. “Yes, Crissy, we’ll have a lot of fun together, you and I.”

  Suddenly he jerked her away from the beam, so quickly she didn’t know what was happening at first. One hand was still across her mouth, the other arm was wrapped around her back, and he was taking her toward the boat, still pressed hard against his body. Her heels barely touched the deck.

  They reached the boat in what seemed an instant, and she felt the back of her thighs hit it hard. The impact sent a sharp bolt of pain up her spine, and she tried to struggle against him again. It was then that she realized she had one arm free. She had been so frozen with terror that it hadn’t dawned on her that he couldn’t keep her mouth covered and restrain both of her arms at once.

  As Valentin started to drag her over the top of the boat’s side, she brought her free arm back as far as possible, then swung up with it, aiming at his head, golden minaudière in hand. She felt the blow in her arm as metal met skull, and pain shot up the length of her arm. Valentin jerked, and the hand that had been clamped over her mouth automatically flew up to his head. Then, without warning, he slammed the hand across her cheek with such force that she thought every bone in her cheek must be broken.

  Crissy began to scream like she’d never screamed before. At first almost no sound came out. He had almost suffocated her, and that, combined with the blow to her face, had left her winded. But before he could clamp his hand across her mouth again, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. His hand clamped across her mouth quickly, this time with such force that it knocked her backward over the side of the motorboat and down into it. He went with her, forcing her head to the floor with his hand. Her legs pedaled in the air, and she tried to kick at him. Valentin knew what he was doing, however, and he already had a length of rope in his free hand and expertly looped it around her legs. He pulled them tight together, then shoved them down inside the boat.

  Crissy furiously kicked the boat with her legs, bound together though they were. Even in her state of panic, she realized she was hardly making any noise and that she was hardly deterring him from his mission at all. Then her eyes caught the glint of silver as a roll of duct tape appeared in his hand.

  Oh, God, no! she thought. No, no, no.

  Luca darted into the ladies’ restroom outside the disco and shouted Crissy’s name. When there was no r
esponse, he banged on closed stall doors, but only got little shrieks in answer. Rushing out onto the deck nearest the disco, he looked fore and aft, but didn’t see anyone. He shouted her name as he ran down the deck a few feet, but there was no response. He decided there was no one about, and went back inside and ran down the stairs to the deck below. It occurred to him that Crissy liked this deck because it was less trafficked by people from the disco.

  Shoving the door open, he burst out onto the deck and looked fore and aft as he had on the deck above. At first he saw no one, nor did he see anything out of the ordinary. He began going aft, his eyes scanning the deck. Suddenly he saw movement in one of the motorboats.

  Moving closer, he saw that the canvas covering it had been unsnapped, and the ropes that should be lashing it down were nowhere to be seen. Then, to his horror, he saw the boat begin to swing on its davits, up and out.

  Oh, jeez, no! he thought, rushing to the motorboat. He reached it and, with both arms, lifted himself over the side. The boat hadn’t yet cleared the railing, but it would in another minute, then begin its descent to the sea. He jerked apart the canvas, pulling it back so that he could see inside the boat, and when he saw her bound and gagged on its floor, he thought for an instant that he would be sick.

  “Crissy!” he shouted. “Jesus! Crissy!” With both arms, he pulled himself up and over the boat’s side, jumping down into it. Without hesitation, he pulled her up off the floor, gathering her in his arms. There wasn’t a moment to spare, and he stood up, pulling her up with him. He took her under her arms, which were taped behind her back, lifted her into the air, then slowly, carefully let her down toward the deck.

  Her feet didn’t meet it, but Luca had no choice. He had to drop her. He slid his hands out from under her arms and let go. Crissy fell to the deck and rolled onto her side. He jumped after her, landing right beside her. Grasping the duct tape wrapped around her head, he pulled fiercely and quickly, knowing that it was going to be painful but having no choice.

  The instant the tape was off her mouth, she cried out to him. “Luca! Oh, Luca! Watch! Watch! He’s . . . he’s—”

  Luca felt mighty hands clamp his shoulders and his body being dragged backward, away from Crissy. When he tried to turn and face his opponent, Valentin let go of one of his shoulders and slammed a fist into the side of his head. Luca was momentarily senseless, but when he saw Crissy, still bound at feet and hands in front of him, a furious rage filled his body with a strength he didn’t know he had. With a roar, he leapt to his feet, and both elbows out and raised, turned on Valentin like a whirlwind.

  Valentin was caught off guard, and when Luca’s elbow caught his head, the impact sent him reeling backward. He fell to the deck with a loud thud, but quickly found his feet and jumped into a low squat. Luca cocked a leg and kicked the side of Valentin’s head with all his might.

  Valentin was knocked off his feet again and sprawled on the deck, one hand going up to his head. Before he could regain his feet, Luca let go with his leg again, this time kicking him in the gut. Once. Twice. Three times. He then reached down and grabbed his head between his hands and slammed it down onto the deck. Once. Twice. Three times.

  Valentin lay motionless.

  Luca scanned the deck around the motorboat and found what he needed. It wasn’t a lot of rope, but he didn’t need much. He tied Valentin’s hands together, then ran a length of the rope down to his ankles and tied them, pulling them up toward his hands in a hog tie.

  That done, he rushed over to Crissy and removed the duct tape from her hands and ankles, then took her into his arms. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, and she shook from fear and relief at once. Luca hugged her tightly, whispering to her constantly. “It’s going to be all right, Crissy,” he promised. “I’m here now, and it’s going to be all right.”

  “Luca,” she said. “Luca, the boat’s going to explode.”

  “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” He thought for a minute that her words were a result of shock. Obviously, she had undergone an ordeal: There was no telling what she might say.

  “He told me,” she said. “Valentin. He said the ship’s on a collision course. It’s going to hit a propane tanker.”

  “You’re sure about this?” he said.

  “Yes, I’m positive,” Crissy said. “We have to do something right away. He was leaving the ship to escape the explosion.”

  Luca helped her to her feet. “We’ve got to inform the captain right away.”

  “He went down to Security,” she said. “I heard that he and all the officers in the disco were called down there just before I came out here.”

  “What? All of them? What the hell’s going on?” He took out his cell phone and put in the captain’s number, but he only got his voice mail. “I’ll try Christopolous,” he said. “He’ll know what’s going on.” He got his voice mail, too. “This is weird,” he said.

  “We’d better go down there, hadn’t we?” Crissy asked. “Or to the control room on the bridge?”

  “The bridge? Why go there?”

  “Luca, the ship’s on automatic pilot, and we’re headed toward a tanker. This ship won’t automatically alter course, even with that tanker on its radar. Sheila and Tommy, these people I met, told me about it. They took a tour of the control room on the bridge.”

  “I know that, Crissy,” he said, “but there are officers in the control room, so we don’t have to worry about that.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Or are there? Demetrios and the others were called down to Security. . . .”

  “Maybe we should run down to Security first,” she said.

  “I think we have to check it out, but the bridge is our first concern. If we are on a collision course, that’s the only place to change it.” He looked toward Valentin. He was still out, but Luca feared he might come to at any moment.

  “Give me two seconds,” he said to Crissy. He went to the motorboat and lowered it back down onto the deck. Searching inside, he found the duct tape. Hunching over Valentin, he wrapped several lengths around his ankles, then his hands.

  “Just to make certain he doesn’t come to and get away,” he said, looking at Crissy.

  Then, dragging him by his feet, he pulled him over to the motorboat. Picking him up under the arms, Luca lifted his torso and, with a grunt of exertion, heaved his body into the boat. As Valentin landed on the bottom there was a loud thud. Luca grabbed the loose canvas cover and draped it across him so that a passerby wouldn’t notice him.

  “We don’t want to unnecessarily alarm anyone, do we?” he said. Taking Crissy’s arm, he started for the door. “Let’s head up to the bridge.”

  “Maybe we should split up, Luca,” she said as they went through the door into the corridor. “I could check out Security while you go up to the bridge.”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned her to face him. “Absolutely not,” he said. “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he said. “I almost lost you just a few minutes ago, and I don’t want to risk that again. Not now, not ever.”

  Crissy couldn’t argue with that. “Okay. To the bridge.”

  Rather than wait for the elevator, they rushed up the stairs and through the ship. They passed a couple walking drunkenly down a corridor, but they only smiled and nodded, paying little attention to the two of them, hurrying though they were. When they reached the top deck, Luca led the way to the bridge. Crissy had been there, but she didn’t think she could ever have found the way back again. When they reached the door, she paused to catch her breath.

  Luca slipped a card out of the inside breast pocket of his dress white uniform jacket.

  “Will that work?” Crissy asked, looking up at him.

  “It works like a pass key,” Luca said. “I have to have it so that I can enter any room on the ship in case something happens to a passenger or one of the crew.”

  He started to swipe the card, but the door, heavy though it was, shifted slightly ajar. “Jesus, it’s not locked,” he said. Opening
the door all the way, he stepped into the bridge, Crissy’s hand firmly held in his.

  The huge room, which ran the width of the ship, appeared to be empty. There was no one stationed at any of the control consoles, but when they reached midway across the width of the bridge, they saw that it wasn’t deserted. Inside the offices, through the huge windows that looked out to the bridge, they saw three officers. One of them was slumped over his desk, a second one lay on the floor, and the third was in his desk chair, sitting up, his head thrown back over the top of the chair.

  The door was open, and they stepped inside the office. Crissy saw blood pooling on the industrial blue and green carpeting. It came from the young officer who lay on the floor, facedown. When she focused on his head, it looked as if a huge bite had been taken out of his skull.

  Crissy’s stomach lurched, but she took a few deep breaths and looked away. Luca bent down and turned the young man over. There was a single bullet hole in his forehead, small and round and almost bloodless. It was pointless to feel for a pulse. At the desks, the two other officers had been killed the same way: a single shot to the forehead, a small point of entry in each of them, with their brains blown out the back of their heads.

  Crissy’s mind reeled, and suddenly the stench of coppery blood made her stomach lurch again, and she was certain that she would be sick. She could taste the bile that rose up in her throat, but she fought it down, turning her head away from the sight.

  “Is there anything you can do, Luca?” she asked, knowing what the answer was but feeling the need to ask the question nevertheless.

  “No, nothing,” he said. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ve got to get down to Security and find an officer, somebody who knows how to manually run this ship. I know a lot about this ship, but that’s one thing I don’t know a damn thing about.”

  Crissy’s eyes glanced at the control consoles with their computer screens, joysticks, and seemingly countless controls of various sorts. It was hopeless, she thought. Absolutely hopeless. She focused on one screen in the central console, then pointed at it. “Luca, look.”