by J. B. Hawker
─ Genesis 19:17
Gilles came home for lunch to check on Ellery. She was fretful about her aunt and he was trying to distract her. He hated to see her unhappy. He’d contacted everyone he could think of, but no one was able to tell him anything more, beyond the plans for a rescue.
If only they knew for certain whether Bunny and her new husband were actually on that blasted ship, it would be more bearable. Ellery was right that the couple might already be dead, or even miles away on their skiff, completely oblivious to the anxiety they were causing by leaving the sailboat without notice. Gilles doubted that last, but knew it was the possibility Ellery was trying to cling to.
“Hello, darling wife-of-mine! How was your morning?”
“Oh, fine. How were things at the University?” Ellery asked, without animation.
“Come on, Darling. You’re worrying yourself sick. Let’s get you out into the fresh air. We’ll run around the corner to that little pizza place you love and eat outside, for a change.”
“But, I’ve already fixed you a sandwich and salad.”
“It will keep. I’ll wrap it up while you powder your nose.”
“What if someone calls about Bunny?”
“If they call, they’ll call my cell. Now, scoot. There’s a feta cheese and spinach pizza calling my name!”
“Say, Franz…”
“Yes, my friend.”
“You were with me when we told that guard about the Benish woman’s death,” Warren reminded him.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Well, the same guard is on duty tonight.”
“What does it matter who is holding the gun? They are all killers.”
“That plan we talked about before is going down tonight. It sort of depends on this guy reacting the same way when Max keels over as he did the other time. I was thinking, if we are standing together like we were then, it might trigger his memory a bit and encourage him to react like he did before. You see?”
“Ah, yes, the psychological approach. It may work.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Certainly.”
“If things go pear-shaped, you could be caught up in any bad results. They will think you were in on it, you know.”
“But, I am ‘in on it’. I do not mind any danger to myself. I have nothing to live for with my precious Analise gone. If they kill me, they kill me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Thanks for helping. Let’s move over here, so we’ll be in a better spot to grab the guy’s gun when Max and Bunny stick him.”
“It happens now?”
“Pretty soon, yeah. Come on.”
The two men repositioned themselves quietly.
Warren looked around to check on locations of the people on deck to satisfy himself that the moment had come. He took a deep breath, caught Max’s eye and gave him a nod.
Now.
Shimbir kept an eye on his men in the wheelhouse, unable to trust any of them, any longer. The others’ attempted mutiny had inflamed his usual distrust into wild paranoia. He could tell by looking at them the men were all against him, now.
They would be his friends again quickly enough when the money came in, he was sure of that. But, why should he share the money with such enemies? These men were only waiting to get their hands on the money then they would kill him if they could.
He decided not to give them that chance. As soon as he saw the money was in his account he would kill everyone on this accursed ship, his traitorous crew included.
Perhaps he should kill these, now. Were they of use to him, any longer? Shimbir could launch a skiff by himself, after all. These men were only needed to guide the ship. He knew from reading the ship’s instruments they were within easy reach of Darsa, already. He could eliminate these three men right now, the others as it suited him.
He lazily slipped the rifle from his back, casually cradling it in his arms. Walking to the doorway, he turned and hit each man in the back of the head, firing three rapid single shots. After the men fell, Shimbir pulled the door shut behind him and sauntered to the deck below, quite pleased with himself.
Remembering three more of his treacherous crewmen were still guarding the pleasure rooms, he continued on down to that level. These, too, could now be dispensed with.
By midnight, when his money was in his account, he could eliminate all the rest and be on his way, a rich and feared man.
The sound of Shimbir’s gunshots alarmed the guards out on deck. Seeing this, Warren gave Max the signal to abort the mission and walked over to him.
“We’re calling it off?” Max asked.
“No, just waiting to see what’s going on. I think I heard gunshots and now all the guards are shouting to each other.”
“Okay. We wait, but we can’t wait much longer. Who knows when the next round of executions will happen? Those shots may have been the opening salvo.”
“Let’s give it a few minutes. If things settle down, we’ll be good to go.”
“Okay. But another false start and I won’t be faking my heart attack!” Max only half-joked.
Shimbir strode purposefully down the corridor to the pleasure rooms where the young women were held. He was satisfied they had served their purpose.
Although casual about any spiritual observances of their religion, these pirates shared the fundamentalist’s view of Infidels: the value of an Infidel man’s life was equal to that of a stray dog; an Infidel woman’s worth was much lower.
Opening the first cabin door it was immediately obvious these women had not been treated as exceptions.
The guard sat in a chair in the corner, his rifle across his lap, but alert and doing his duty. There were no longer any breaks for the pirates on the upper decks, so the women under this man’s charge were lying on their beds, unmolested for the moment.
The room held two broken-down beds, the mattresses and linens askew. The naked, bruised and battered young women on these squalid bunks had tried to cover themselves with the torn and filthy bedclothes.
A petite blond was on the bed nearest to the door. When she heard the door opening, she cringed into a fetal position with her eyes tightly shut, as if to blot out what was to come.
On the next bed a girl with long, dark hair stared unflinchingly at the pirate captain, with bleak, empty, almond-shaped eyes.
Shimbir curtly instructed the guard to take the two women topside.
“These are no longer necessary. They may die with the rest.”
Although his plan was to kill this man, seeing him still obediently on duty, Shimbir decided to spare him, for now.
When his leader left the room the guard shouted at the women to get up. Uncomprehending, they continued to lie still, so he grabbed the taller girl by her thick, dark hair and pulled her onto the floor, shouting, “Go!” in English and prodding her with his foot.
She struggled to her feet and stood on shaking legs beside the bed while the pirate approached the blond. She was still hiding from reality behind tightly closed lids until his hard slap shocked her into opening them.
The girl scrambled from the disheveled bed, tripping on a pile of foul bedding on the floor. Clutching one of the bloody blankets to her thin, battered frame, she allowed the pirate to prod her to the door.
In the corridor, the pirate continued to shout abuse at the women, poking them with his gun and slapping or punching them when they hesitated or stumbled on their way to the stairs leading to the open deck.
Shimbir had continued down the corridor and stood before the open door of the next pleasure suite, a dangerous look of disapproval on his face.
There was no guard on duty in this room. Its only occupant, a chorus girl, had apparently been dead for many hours. Her throat showed the purple marks of strangulation, while her exposed flesh bore shallow slashes, bruises and burns.
Her torture did not upset Shimbir. Such things happened when men’s passions were aroused. But, where was the other g
irl who should be sharing this room? And where was her guard?
He turned to the next door along the hallway and noticed sounds from within. Flinging wide the door, his anger burned brighter at the sight before him.
When the pirates first commandeered the ship and brought the dancers to these rooms there were nine female dancers, divided three to a room with two guards for each room. Shimbir had discovered this allowed the guards to take turns with the women without awaiting their assigned rest breaks. Learning this, the other pirates became belligerent as they vied for this assignment, so Shimbir had released half the men to other duties and left only one guard per room. He knew no one man could control three women while raping one of them.
In this room he found two guards, one holding his gun while the other took his pleasure with the girls. His pleasures seemed to include many of those exercised on the dead woman in the room across the corridor.
In a rage, Shimbir sprayed the room with bullets, killing both guards and wounding two of the three girls.
He screamed and gestured at the women until they dragged one another into the hallway.
The most badly wounded soon lost consciousness. Shimbir forced the others to leave her. He put a bullet into her head as he stepped across her body.
On deck, Warren had once again given Max the go-ahead.
Max moaned, stood up, clutched his chest and began to stagger to the prearranged location for his death scene, Bunny scurrying behind him, clucking as convincingly as possible, “Max, what’s wrong?”
Reaching his mark, Max gasped and collapsed onto the deck.
Bunny dropped beside him screeching, “Max! Don’t leave me!”
Warren pulled her off gently and briefly went through the motions of performing CPR before turning to the group gathering around them and shaking his head.
“I’m afraid the old boy’s gone.”
At his words, Bunny began to howl and beat weakly on Max’s chest with her fists, finally collapsing across him, weeping.
Warren stood with Franz at his side and attempted to get the pirate’s attention.
The guard had already been drawn to their little drama by Bunny’s histrionics. He raised his rifle and warned the crowd away as he approached the body.
Bunny ignored his instructions, apparently overcome with grief.
As before, the pirate prodded the body with his foot. Getting no response, he drew back his leg for a much stronger kick.
In that instant, Bunny rose up and drove her knife into his lower abdomen. Startled and off-balance, he began to topple toward Max who slashed the man’s neck and quickly rolled out of the way of the falling body.
Warren and Franz rushed up. Warren took the rifle and checked for a pulse. Finding none, he nodded to Franz to search the body for other weapons.
Franz found a knife in the man’s boot and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his trousers just as Marco crept up to join the men.
“Have you ever shot a pistol, young man?” Franz asked.
“I’m pretty good at Duck Hunt,” Marco responded.
“You hunt ducks with a pistol? Oh, well, as long as you can shoot. Here, take it. I will use the knife.”
Bunny and Tricia, who had rushed in to help, rolled the pirate’s body behind some containers.
Looking around to see if they had been observed, the prisoners realized everyone else had been distracted by the arrival on deck of the first of the abused chorus girls.
Although this was a lucky break for the rebellious prisoners, it was not a good sign for the passengers at large. It could only mean further bloodshed.
When Bunny straightened up from moving the man she’d just helped to kill, a wave of nausea hit her and her body turned alternately cold and hot. Recognizing this for the first signs of shock, she quickly squatted with her head between her knees until she no longer felt faint.
“What’s the matter with you?” Tricia barked. “Get up and let’s get back to the others. There’s plans to be made.”
Tricia hurried off while Bunny took several deep, slow breaths and got to her feet. She could feel her body returning to normal, but couldn’t rid her mind of the images of the guard’s face as she eviscerated him with her knife.
She hadn’t realized the damage she was doing until she felt slippery bits of the man’s insides sliding over her hand. She gulped to fight back rising bile.
“Father, forgive me!” she prayed and hurried to join the others.
Chapter Nineteen
You shall hide them in the secret place of Your presence from the plots of man ─Psalm 31:20
Warren and Max were surrounded by the rest of their group when Bunny joined them. Feeling her presence, Max wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
“Great job, Buns!”
Seeing her pallor, he quickly added, “Are you okay?”
Forcing a weak, lopsided grin, she nodded, “Just a little shook up. I guess I won’t hire out as a hit lady any time soon. I don’t have the temperament.”
Max gave her another squeeze and turned his attention back to what Warren was saying.
“It looks like we were lucky, there. But, I can’t think they brought those girls up on deck for anything good. We need to carry out the rest of our plans quickly.”
“How are we going to take another one by surprise, now that their leader is up on deck?”
“They are going to miss our guy, soon, and start looking for him.”
“What will we do if they find him here? They’ll know we killed him!”
Everyone was asking questions at once until Max held up his hand for silence.
“We’re in a tight spot, all right. But we were in a worse one before. Now we have two guns and three knives. No one but us knows what’s happened, so we still have the element of surprise going for us. Warren and I talked about this. We’d hoped to pick off these guys one at a time. That is no longer possible. We think the thing to do, now, is scatter. While those poor girls and the pirate leader are the focus of attention over there, we can go in small groups, each with a weapon, and sneak around to the far stairs. Once below decks, we find hidey-holes and lay low until we are rescued.”
“We need to act, now, while no one’s paying us any attention,” Warren urged.
“I’ve got my knife and Bunny has hers, but she’s going with me. Who wants her knife?”
“I’ll take it,” Sammy reached out for the knife.
“It’s awfully bloody, I’m afraid,” Bunny apologized as she handed the blade over.
“I also have a knife, who comes with me?” Franz asked.
Strother and Virginia joined him, “We will.”
“Floydie and me will go with the kid and his mother. The kid’s got the Glock, and my old man can help him use it, if necessary,” Tricia asserted.
“I’d like Marki to go with Bunny and me, if she doesn’t mind,” Max looked at his daughter as he spoke.
“I guess so,” Marki replied.
“All right, then, everyone has a weapon and knows who they are traveling with, right?” Warren asked.
“Let’s go. But keep to the edges and move slowly, so you don’t attract attention. Don’t make a sound until you are below. Go.”
The captives crept away. After waiting in limbo for so long, they were eager to act. Adrenaline surged in everyone’s veins, outrunning the terror threatening to paralyze them and spoil the escape.
Sammy and Celine were the first to leave the relative safety of their prison compound. Celine clung so closely to her partner’s arm Sammy was having difficulty moving her bulk with stealth. She reached behind and pushed Celine in front of her, both for maneuverability and to protect her in case they were spotted.
Celine opened her mouth to object, but Sammy clamped a meaty hand over it and shook her head as a reminder of the need to keep silent. Celine nodded her understanding and allowed the larger woman to propel her along her chosen path.
When these first two were about ten yards aw
ay, the next group ventured out.
Marco allowed his mother to go before him and Tricia followed Marcella. Floyd Winston followed, staying close to Marco. The boy was grateful for the older man’s nearness. He felt a heavy weight of responsibility for his companions. The pistol, so unlike the plastic shooting game controller, grew slippery in his hand.
Max urged his wife and daughter out next, taking a slightly divergent path from the others, but keeping well under cover. Looking back, he saw Franz following with Strother and Virginia.
Warren was standing watch, covering them with the rifle.
This part of the plan was the most dangerous, and the most painstaking.
Everyone felt their senses more acutely than ever before as they tried to control quivering muscles and suppress urges to sneeze, cough or whimper.
Sammy and Celine reached the stairway door where Sammy clutched the handle and paused. What if the door squeaked or creaked? Holding her breath, she squeezed the lever and began to pull.
There was a soft click and the door opened without another sound.
The two women dashed through. Sammy prodded Celine down the steps and started after before remembering to pull the door shut behind her. She climbed back up and eased it closed, without allowing the latch to click, and then crept as quickly as possible down the stairs to join Celine. Once there she expelled her breath in a huge gust.
Now, where to hide?
Those following were encouraged by the women’s success and moved a bit more quickly toward the safety of the door.
Marco’s little band was now nearest to the door and he fought an intense desire to dash through, slamming and locking it behind him. He resisted the urge as he and the others continued their cautious advance and was soon rewarded by slipping through the door and down the stairs.
Max was pleased to see the plan working well, so far. Nevertheless, the risk grew every second. At any moment one of the pirates might look around and notice their guard was no longer at his post. They would be exposed, then, and outgunned.