“I’ll ask the questions, lady. Why you snooping around other people’s property?”
“I am an employee of the ship. I am allowed to be here.”
“Not here, sweetheart. You need to back away and leave this area well alone.”
“This is a staff area,” Tally told him. “You are the one who must leave.”
The man waggled his revolver at her. “D’you realise I have a gun pointed at your pretty little face, lady? I’m not kidding around.”
“Shoot me,” she said bluntly. “Believe me when I tell you I’ll get over it.”
The man seemed confused by the comment and the revolver lowered slightly. Jack decided to try and take control of the conversation while the man was briefly unsure of himself.
He chose politeness as his opening tactic. “Why do you have a gun, sir? Is this area restricted?”
The cowboy’s smile was crooked and he repeated the word, “Sir? I like the sound of that.” He moved the gun closer to Jack’s face. “But I’m afraid I’m still going to have to insist you both mosey on out of here. This is my cargo and you’re trespassing, so could you kindly fuck off?”
Jack didn’t appreciate being sworn at, especially when he had so many questions. “What the hell are you guarding?”
“None of your business. Now get!”
Tally started backing away and Jack decided to follow her. They could force the issue and see where it led, but it would probably be better to take a step back and re-strategize. It was clear that the ship’s cargo hold was being used to transport something they weren’t supposed to know about.
“Where are we going now?” Jack asked Tally as they headed back to the elevator.
“We’re going to see the captain,” she said. “To let him know that there’s an armed man aboard his ship.”
***
Tally used her limited credentials to get herself and Jack inside the ship’s Bridge. It was clear by the reaction of the technical staff that a waitress was not welcome in that particular area, but her insistence – and possibly her beauty – eventually got her through. After convincing a young radioman that there was an urgent matter that needed to be brought to the captain’s attention, she and Jack were finally led inside a small office to wait. It was set up like a meeting room, with an oblong table and leather-backed chairs arranged at its centre. Both Tally and Jack took a seat.
After a short wait, a white-uniformed man entered the room and observed them suspiciously. Each arm of his jacket was emblazoned by four horizontal stripes and an executive loop, while his white peaked cap featured a small emblem of an anchor on a blue oval background, which itself was encircled by a golden wreath of oak leaves. Jack knew from his days in the forces that this man was the ship’s commanding officer.
“I am Captain Marangakis,” he said, addressing them with the stern tone of a man who had little time to be wasted. “I understand you wish to inform me of something.”
“Yes, sir,” Tally said respectfully.
The captain remained standing, his back straight. “Well? What is it?”
Tally told him. “There’s a man with a gun in the cargo area.”
The captain nodded very slowly and stared at them both for a moment, and then he pulled up a chair and sat down. Before he said anything, he removed his cap and placed it carefully down on the desk in front of him. His head was balding. “May I ask what exactly you were doing in my cargo area?”
Jack didn’t have an answer that would suffice, so he decided to ignore the question. “Did you hear what we said? There is a man with a gun down there. Does that not concern you?”
“That man is allowed to be there. He is a member of BR Shipping’s maritime security force. He is here to protect their assets.”
Jack spluttered. “What? You’re telling me that you know that this cruise liner, full of children and families, is being used to transport dangerous cargo?”
“Who said it was dangerous?”
Jack sighed. “You don’t pay an armed guard to protect something benign.”
The captain bored a hole into Jack with his narrow brown eyes. “I assure you that the cargo in this ship is of no danger to anyone. It is merely BR policy to protect their possessions.”
“Okay,” Jack said, willing to play along. “Then tell me what is being stored down there?”
“Who are you to demand anything of me? This is my ship.”
“I’m a police officer. Sergeant Jack Wardsley.”
“Well, Mr Wardsley,” the captain seemed to make a point not to use the word Sergeant. “We are currently one-hundred and sixty miles off the coast of France, so I regret to inform you that your authority is null and void aboard my ship and equally so when we land in a country that is not your own. In fact, right now, I find you guilty of trespassing. What do you think I should do about that?”
Jack tried to calm things down. “I respect your authority as captain of this ship, but something is very wrong here. People are sick and getting worse – speak to Doctor Fortuné. I have concerns that it may all be a result of what is being held down in your cargo bay. Black Remedy owns this ship, and they are also one of the world’s leading investors in medical research. It worries me that they use their own cruise liners as transporters for pharmaceuticals and God knows what else. It’s unethical.”
“That may be,” the captain agreed, somewhat surprisingly. “But it is their ship and I am their employee. You, sir, are the only danger here. I’m afraid I must insist that you disembark at Cannes. Until then, you will immediately accompany me down to the holding cells. I cannot have you running around my ship spreading your paranoid delusions. You too, young lady.” He nodded to Tally. “Your service aboard this vessel is no longer required.”
Jack and Tally both sighed in unison, but neither of them resisted. They could try all over again tomorrow.
Day 200
Jack met Tally by the elevators on C Deck. They discussed what to do and both decided that this time they would forget the subtle approach. It seemed the armed guard in the cargo area had free reign to be there and probably even license to kill if he deemed it necessary, so they would only be wasting time by trying to be gentle.
“So we have a plan then,” Tally stated.
Jack nodded. “It should work. Not like we have anything to fear, is it? If we get shot then we’ll try something else tomorrow – or today, or whatever. You know what I mean.”
They took the elevator back down to the cargo bay and stepped out onto the walkway. Jack stayed back while Tally headed off towards the cargo area, making a big show of being there, clomping her feet down on the metal walkway and whistling loudly. Jack crouched down and hugged the walls of the hull, ducking behind the various machinery and boxes that littered the metal walkway. When Tally reached the shipment pallets in the cargo area, she made a B-line for the blue, plastic crates. Immediately, she started tugging at one, trying to get it free from the pallet. It was only seconds before the cowboy appeared behind her.
Jack put his half of the plan into action and crept up behind the gunman while Tally distracted him by crying and begging for him not to shoot. Jack ran up behind the cowboy and struck him in the back of the head with his fist. Years of combat training meant that the attack was a guaranteed knockout blow and the victim hit the floor face-first. His revolver skittered across the metal walkway. The plan had worked flawlessly. Now it was time to get some answers.
***
The first question Jack asked the cowboy, once the man had regained consciousness, was what his name was. When he refused to answer, Jack pointed the gun and asked the question again. “Don’t make me lose my temper. What’s your name?”
“Caleb Donovan.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You shitting me? What kind of fruity name is that?” Jack was doing his best bad cop impression, hoping that he could use intimidation and insults while Tally used a softer tactic more befitting to her age and beauty.
“My name is Caleb D
onovan and that is all you are getting from me.”
Jack slapped the man with the back of his hand, feeling no remorse, for any bruises he caused would disappear at midnight. He knelt down and looked the man in the eyes. “Look, Caleb. My friend here can happily go and turn your cargo upside down right now, or you can just tell us what’s inside. It seems less messy if you just go with the latter option.”
The cowboy frowned. “Why do you care anyway? Are you here to steal it?”
“Steal what?” Jack asked. “What the hell have you got here? Did you make everybody onboard sick?”
“Sick? What are you talking about?”
Jack slapped the man again, but it seemed to have little effect. Donovan’s square jaw seemed more than capable of absorbing a blow or two. If anything, Jack’s throbbing hand was coming off worse.
“Do not play ignorant,” Tally said. “Someone has infected the passengers with a virus, and you just so happen to work for a company that specialises in medical research. Not to mention you’re holed up down here on your own, with a gun.”
“It’s my job, missy. I’m paid to be down here with a gun. Ask the captain of the ship.”
“We did,” Jack admitted. “Doesn’t mean I trust you or what you’re doing down here. Why do you need to protect it the cargo?”
“Why d’you think? Pirates, terrorists, opportunistic passengers like you. The world is a dangerous place, pardner. It needs people like me to keep belongings with their rightful owners. Take this situation for instance. Seems I was right to bring a gun onboard.”
“Pity you couldn’t keep a hold of it,” Jack said, waving the revolver in front of him. “But we’re no thieves. I just want to know what the hell is happening onboard this ship.”
The man scrunched his face up in confusion. “Why do you keep saying that? What’s wrong with the ship? It’s cruising along exactly as it’s supposed to be.”
Jack looked down at Donovan and tried to figure out if the man was lying. There were no telltale signs that suggested he was being deceitful – no twitches or furtive glances – but, with an adequate amount of training, anyone could bend the truth effectively.
“What’s in the boxes?” Jack demanded.
Donovan sighed. “Look for yourself. I’d rather that then betray my employers.”
Jack nodded. “Fair enough. Tally, go check it out.”
Tally nodded and headed over to the pallet of blue, plastic crates. She clawed at the cellophane wrapping and gradually managed to wrench one of the boxes free. It fell to the floor as the weight came loose, too heavy for Tally to handle by herself.
“Shit! Be careful,” Donovan told her.
“It’s locked,” Tally said, thumbing the edges of the crate.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Jack said. “Come check the guy’s pockets.”
Tally edged over to Donovan, wary of the man despite him being subdued. Jack kept the gun sighted at the man’s chest the whole time, while Tally located the keys in his breast pocket. She headed back over to the crate with them.
“You sure you wanna do this, pardner?” Donovan asked Jack.
Jack nodded. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re gunna stir up a shit storm you don’t wanna get caught in.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Holy shit!” Tally shouted. “Jack, look at this.”
Jack spun around to look at the contents of the crate and was shocked by what he saw. In the brief moment he was distracted, Donovan leapt up and skilfully took the gun from Jack. He fired two bullets right into his chest.
Day 201
Jack woke up breathless. He’d never been shot before and the pain had been blinding, yet mercifully brief. Now he was in his bed again, ready to start another version of the same day. It felt like every time he got close to any sort of answers, something bad happened and sent him spiralling back to square one. But it was nothing more than a setback this time. Yet, Tally had said something a couple days ago that worried him. We may feel like we have eternity, but we do not. Jack wondered if his ability to withstand bullets to the chest would eventually end. Maybe next time, he would stop waking up in bed unharmed and would just be dead.
He had to find out what the deal was with Donovan and his cargo. Why was the ship’s hold crammed with blue plastic crates full of American Dollars? There had been only a brief second to see what Tally had discovered in the crates before Donovan shot him to death, but Jack calculated that if all of the crates on all of the pallets were full of money, then there was several million dollars in the cargo hold.
Jack hadn’t seen what had become of Tally, because he’d been inconveniently dead, but he assumed Donovan would have dealt with her the same way. She’d probably woken up screaming in her bed the same way he had. He hoped she was okay.
Jack decided to hang around the pool area and wait for Tally. It was the most likely place she would go to find him and he wanted to make sure he was there if she needed him. After performing his morning ritual of saying hello to the seagull at his window, he got in the shower and took a little longer under the steaming torrent of water than usual. His tired and battered body kept him there. He ran his soapy hands over his shoulders, kneading his trapezius muscles and the back of his neck. The pressure felt good and he moved his hand down along his shoulders and inwards towards his chest.
Shit!
Jack hissed in pain as a dull throb erupted behind his ribs. He looked down at his naked body and was shocked. Below his left nipple was a patch of discoloured skin – a deep bruise spreading out in a ragged oval shape. It was exactly where the bullets had entered. His injuries hadn’t completely healed. Did that mean he would be able to die soon? The thought filled him with both fear and excitement. He wanted to die, to be released from his torment, but he also wanted to live – especially now that his investigations were finally getting somewhere.
He quickly dried himself and got out of the shower, putting clothes on and heading immediately for the Lido Deck by the pool. Once there, he headed for the sun deck on the upper balcony. Although he was still eager to discover more about the cash in the hold, he needed five minutes to himself. Discovering that he could now be hurt permanently changed things – made it necessary to think stuff through a little more cautiously. He was vulnerable again, and that brought with it fear.
Claire was upstairs in her usual spot and Jack took the sun lounger beside her, not bothering to remove the green towel.
“I’d move that,” she said. “It’s been there all day. Probably pretty funky by now.”
Jack smiled at her. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll let you know if I start to itch.”
“Okay, but if you get fleas don’t pass them on to me.”
“I promise.” He leant over and offered her his hand. “Jack.”
“Claire.”
“Good to meet you, Claire. You here with anyone?”
“My boyfriend and his mates.”
“His mates? None of yours?”
Claire shifted in her seat. “I don’t really have many friends. I spend all my time with Conner.”
“Your boyfriend?”
She nodded.
“I bet you did have friends, though? I mean, before you got with him.”
Claire didn’t answer, just shrugged.
“Well, listen up, Claire. You seem like a nice girl, so I’m going to give you a little bit of advice. I’m older than you, and a police officer, so I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen a lot of nice young girls get isolated from their friends and family by a controlling boyfriend. It always happens gradually, so slowly that the girl doesn’t even realise what is happening. My advice to you is to get away while you still can. Find your friends and tell them that you’re sorry. They’ll forgive you. Then tell Conner to go take a hike.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said defiantly, but there was a slither of doubt in her voice.
Jack looked her in the eye. “Am I wrong?”
She was silent for a while, but eventually let out a sigh and nodded. “No, you’re not wrong. He’s horrible to me. Doesn’t let me do anything. But I love him. He’s just young and acting tough in front of his mates, you know? He’ll change, I know he will.”
Jack laughed but he didn’t mean it to be cruel. “You know how many women have said that before you? And how many have regretted it? You shouldn’t have to wait for a man to treat you right. You’re a nice girl, Claire. One day you’ll see the big difference between men and boys. Not all guys will treat you like Conner does. You’re wasting your life with him.”
She seemed close to tears. “I can’t leave him.”
“Of course you can.”
“No, I can’t. I’m…we’re...”
Jack was about to respond to Claire, but before he could, Conner appeared. Right on schedule, Jack thought ruefully.
The lad tilted his head towards Jack and scowled. “How you doing, mate?”
“I’m good. Claire and I were just in the middle of a conversation.”
“The conversation’s over, mate.”
Jack stared at Conner, not breaking eye contact for a single second. “Why is that?”
“What you mean, why is that? Because I fucking said so.”
“Can’t Claire make up her own mind? Is she not allowed to have a conversation unless you allow it?”
Conner looked down at Jack as though he were a new species of ape. “You crazy or something? I’ll fuck you up, mate.”
“I’d very much like to see you to try.”
Claire jumped up off her lounger and rushed in front of Conner. “Honey, just leave it. I don’t even know the guy.”
“She’s right,” Jack said. “She doesn’t know me at all. But I know you, Conner. You’re a sad, pathetic, little bully who controls women because you’re so scared of them leaving you. The reason you think like that is because you’re a piece of shit, and you know it. No girl would ever stay with you unless you chipped away at her until she was nothing.”
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