by Amy Gamet
The captain stood tall with his back to Cowboy, staring out the bridge windows to the thick gray sky beyond. “You’re telling me this is mutiny. My own men taking over my ship.” He turned around. “And they’ve done it so quietly I barely even noticed.”
He moved to the helm and touched some buttons.
“I’m afraid so, sir.” Cowboy hated to see him like this, the same man who’d appeared so confident and proud when they met in New York.
“This is my last voyage. Did you know that? One final sailing to top off a thirty-year career, and they gave me their flagship vessel to do it with. I was in the navy before that. A sailor. Not a frogman like you. All I ever wanted to do was sail boats.” He frowned. “She isn’t responding.”
“Who?”
“The ship. She isn’t responding. We’re off course and I’ve been trying to correct it manually, but it’s not taking the new heading.”
Cowboy moved to stand behind the captain and look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the captain was unable to make any changes to the ship’s course.
“They’ve taken control of this, too, haven’t they?” asked the captain. “A marvel of engineering stolen right out of my grasp.”
“There might be a way to get it back, but I need your help. I believe my men from HERO Force will try to intercept the ship.”
The captain turned around to face him. “Intercept the ship how?”
“You tell me. They need to board us. How will they do it?”
“If they’re coming by air, they will land on the helipad. If they’re coming by sea, they will need to get our attention somehow.”
The first mate stood. “We can’t slow down, much less stop. Landing a helicopter on a moving vessel is extremely challenging for the most highly trained pilots in the world.”
“Don’t worry. Our pilot is one of them,” said Cowboy. “If anyone can do it, Red can.”
The captain turned to the first mate. “Beaudreau, ready the cabling and clear the helipad.”
He turned back to Cowboy. “It’s usually open to visitors as an observation area, but we’re expecting inclement weather.” He turned back to the horizon. “Do you know when HERO Force is coming?”
“No.”
“Hopefully soon. This storm isn’t going to hold off much longer. Your friends might not be able to make it through.”
15
Cowboy took the elevator down to the Lido deck, instantly aware that he should have walked inside. The gray drizzling sky was being pushed aside by an angry purple storm that was quickly engulfing the cruise ship, and thunder rumbled in the distance as lightning reached down from dark clouds, striking the water.
The captain was right. HERO Force might not be able to make it to the boat after all.
He moved quickly, careful not to slip on the wet decking as he ran half the length of the ship. The wind whipped across the deck, throwing rain into his face.
He reached the covered shelter of the elevator bay, pushed the button, and looked down at his drenched clothing before another crack of thunder brought his eyes back to the sea.
Their isolation was more apparent to him in the storm, the lack of any other people as far as the eye could see. There was only him, an unknown enemy, and whatever fate awaited them all.
And Charlotte.
He couldn’t forget Charlotte.
His stomach clenched. As much as he was enjoying her company, this easy mission was turning into something sinister, and he wished furiously she wasn’t here. The sense of foreboding he’d experienced since the murder scene was discovered had only gotten more intense. The last thing he needed was Charlotte getting into any of the trouble he felt swirling around the Gem of the Seas.
If she weren’t on this ship, you wouldn’t have gotten to be with her at all.
It was only supposed to be sex between them, but if he was being perfectly honest, he knew had feelings for her. How could he not? She was a bold, brassy woman with her heart on her sleeve, and everything about her called to Cowboy.
Maybe he could see her sometime when they got back to Atlanta. Dinner and a movie, that kind of thing. It had been a long time since he’d tried to seriously date anyone, but for Charlotte, he just might give it a whirl.
He thought of Logan and frowned. Nothing good could come from that dynamic, especially now that Cowboy was going to be in charge. It would be better to enjoy their time together and let it go than have it ruin his relationship with his men.
Wouldn’t it? He shook his head, determined to put the topic out of his mind.
He needed a plan to find the prince and princess and figure out who had taken control of the ship. The elevator doors opened and he walked inside. He needed to find Harrison, Abby, and Charlotte. They were the only people he could trust to help him on this mission.
16
Charlotte sank down deeper into the bubbles of the big, jetted tub and turned off the underwater lighting with her toe. She was grateful for every stinking penny of Rick’s money she’d spent on this over-the-top suite.
And you’re sharing it with Cowboy.
At least during the night. She picked up her glass of champagne and took a hearty sip. They’d only been at sea for two days and already she was having the time of her life.
It was nearly dinnertime and she was hoping Cowboy would join her for the meal.
What, like a date?
She’d had a lot of time to think today — maybe too much time — and she’d spent the better part of it thinking about how much she liked Leo Wilson. Dangerous shit for someone who’d only been looking to get laid.
She was on the rebound. That was it. The contrast between Rick and Cowboy made the latter look like a knight in goddamn shining armor. It wasn’t like she had actual feelings for this man. Did she? She rolled on her side in the tub, letting her hair fall in the water.
So what if he was patient and kind? Funny, too. Sweet. It didn’t mean she had to glom onto him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning.
I was just going to ask him to dinner. I was definitely not glomming.
Hell, if Cowboy didn’t work with Logan, she might go for it and try to see him after this week, but as it stood now she didn’t want to make things complicated for her brother or Leo. She would enjoy this week to its fullest, no regrets.
A distant knock and she sat up, the movement making her light-headed. The water was hot, and she’d been in here quite a while. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a big, fluffy towel before opening the door.
Cowboy stood on the other side and she felt her cheeks warm. This was her lover, the man she’d been more physically intimate with than any other in years, and her body responded to him like an animal recognizing its owner.
She stood back for him to enter. “I was just thinking about you,” she said. “Wondering what you’re doing for dinner. Would you like to join me?” She held her breath, waiting for him to answer.
He turned around, his face crestfallen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The prince and princess are missing, someone sabotaged the ship’s communication systems, and there’s been a murder below deck.”
“What?” She put her palm on her chest. “That’s crazy!”
“We need backup. I haven’t checked in with HERO Force, so I’m hoping they’ll realize there’s a problem and come to the ship, but with this weather that might be impossible.”
She sat down on the edge of the couch. “Why would someone do these things? What could they want?”
“Five thousand innocent people at their mercy. What does it make you think of?”
She met his eyes. “Terrorists.”
He nodded.
Fear settled on her like a weight. Terrorists didn’t care if they got hurt. They didn’t care if they took innocent lives. They thrived on the very things that served to keep evil in check.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Get dressed and com
e with me. I need to find Harrison and Abby and figure out what we’re going to do.”
17
The Coast Guard commander crossed his arms. “These are international waters. We can't just go out there and board a ship because you think there might be something wrong.”
Jax moved closer to the commander. “I realize that, sir. But I don't just think it, I know it. Hostile forces have infiltrated that cruise liner, putting all five thousand passengers and two members of the British royal family at risk.”
“Then maybe you should ask the Brits to help, because I can’t touch this one. That ship is flying a Bahamian flag. I have established radio contact and offered the assistance of the U.S. Coast Guard and been refused — very politely, I might add. Now, if I take your word for this and board that vessel, that could be taken as an unfriendly act from our country unto theirs. You see my problem.”
Jax did see the man's problem, which only served to exacerbate his own. Without the assistance of the Coast Guard, he and his men had no choice but to board the cruise ship on their own.
“There’s a storm at their location. Heavy rain and lightning with poor visibility. Looks like the worst of it’s about past them, though.”
Fuck.
Nothing like a helicopter coming down out of the sky to land on a cruise ship during a storm. “I’ll take it from here. Thank you for your candor,” said Jax. He walked off the bridge of the U.S.S. Rapture and back onto its sweltering deck. The rest of his HERO Force crew were standing beside their chopper.
It’d taken more than a dozen phone calls and calling in three favors to get an accurate location of the cruise ship and permission to board the Rapture, just three hundred miles from the Gem of the Seas. But no favor on earth would be great enough for a navy commander to board another country’s ship when he wasn’t welcome.
Jax spit on the ground and joined their small group. He looked at Matteo. “The cruise ship doesn’t want us there, so the Coast Guard can’t get us on the ship. The only way we’re going to make it on that boat is if we land on their helipad, uninvited.”
Hawk whistled. “Somebody could get hurt. There are thousands of civilians on that ship.”
Jax nodded. “The helipad is located on the point of the bow, like a triangle with water on two sides. The other side can see us coming. That’s not what I’m worried about. If they really don’t want us there, they’re not going to sit still like a bride on her wedding night waiting for us to hop on top of them. They’re going to keep going.”
Matteo pursed his lips. “You’re asking me if I can land on a moving ship. Mierda. How fast are they going?”
Logan cleared his throat. “The ship has a maximum cruising speed of 20 knots, about 23 miles per hour.”
“I know how fast a knot is, Doc,” said Matteo.
Jax knew what he was asking. It was the same thing he always had to ask. What’s the best you can do, and are you willing to put your life on the line for this mission? Neither question required an apology from him. His men knew what they’d signed up for.
He watched as Red considered his answer. Matteo had earned the nickname for the red matador’s muleta he kept in his locker. In a bullfight the muleta hid the sword, and Red had hidden swords of his own.
“I can do it,” said Red. “I’ll have to hover for a minute until I get the speed right, but I can land that bird on the bow, no problem.”
18
The courtyard belonged on a tropical island more than it belonged in this floating metropolis. Two clear waterslide tubes mirrored each other’s twists and turns as they fell from the highest stories of the ship to a pool a hundred yards away.
A piercing scream echoed in the distance and someone shot through a clear tube overhead. Cowboy sat with Harrison, Charlotte, and Abby at a table beneath a palm tree in the lush oasis of vegetation.
Harrison leaned forward in his chair. “I’d rather not talk in the security room anymore. Someone is communicating with the cruise line. Sending daily check-ins and reports.” He took a sip of his coffee, his hand shaking the cup.
“I thought the radio wasn’t working,” said Cowboy.
“There are protocols to be followed. If we completely stopped transmitting, they would send help to find us, but no one has come. They must be in contact somehow.”
Charlotte tapped her fingernails on the table. “So the radio isn’t out, it’s just been rerouted.”
“That’s right,” said Harrison. “And we know they’re controlling the navigation system. But what if there’s more?”
Cowboy furrowed his brow. “Come again?”
“What if it isn’t just the radio that’s been moved? We know their virus affected our security cameras. Who’s to say they haven’t tapped into those, too?”
The idea that a hidden enemy could have eyes all over the ship was beyond unnerving. Cowboy thought of the first mate preparing the helipad for HERO Force’s arrival and felt a sudden rush of concern for his teammates.
“Almost like a second bridge,” said Charlotte.
Cowboy shook his head. “So let me get this straight. This ship has been taken over by somebody — or a bunch of somebodies — without ever showing their faces? How the fuck is that possible?”
“And what are we going to do about it?” asked Abby.
“How many cabins are there on the ship?” asked Cowboy.
“Two thousand seven hundred eighty, not including the crew.”
Too many to go door to door, especially considering the people they were looking for could easily move from one room to another. Cowboy’s mind was whirling. They had a seemingly insurmountable task ahead of them and nowhere near enough resources to accomplish their goals.
Charlotte leaned forward. “You know, when I went to dry my hair this morning, I couldn’t believe how few outlets there are in the staterooms. I’ve got pretty nice digs, and I only counted two.”
“Five thousand people use a lot of power,” said Harrison. “We try to limit consumption.”
She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “But these things you’re talking about — monitors and radios and computers — they use a lot of power.”
Harrison’s head shot up. “That’s it! We don’t have to search all the staterooms because most of them couldn’t supply the amount of power these guys need to operate.”
“How many of the staterooms does that eliminate?” asked Cowboy.
“Almost all of them. There are only a handful of luxury suites that could handle it. A dozen, maybe less. And the restaurants, the casino, the theaters with all their lights. But this narrows down the list of possibilities significantly.”
“Then we start there.” Cowboy stood up. “I say we stay together. It’s too risky to split up when we can’t communicate with each other.”
Harrison nodded. “Agreed. Let’s get started.”
19
Charlotte already had her hair in a ponytail and she was beginning to wish she’d worn sensible shoes. The three-inch wedge sandals were cute, but after traipsing around a boat the size of her hometown for almost four hours, she’d pay good money for a nice pair of sneakers.
None of the luxury suites had panned out, and they’d moved on to searching areas of the ship that could provide power and some sort of secrecy.
The Stargazer Theater was home to Broadway-like shows and a French acrobatics troupe. On the main stage, two women were twirling on ropes hung from the high ceiling while the crowd oohed and aahed over the music.
Harrison led the way through the backstage area and a series of hallways, ending up in what seemed to be some kind of lighting control room. “Nothing,” he said. “Let’s head to the arcade.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. She knew where the arcade was, more than half the ship’s length away. Why couldn’t he go in some kind of order instead of traipsing all over hell’s half acre? “Wait.” She walked toward the window overlooking the theater, the performers mesmerizing even from here. “I need to tak
e my shoes off. I can go after bad guys barefooted, right?”
She bent down to unbuckle her sandals, a small red light catching her eye. She squatted and peered under the console, making out a rectangular shape with wires and a digital timer.
It looked like a bomb.
No. Surely actual bombs didn’t look so bomb-like. It was probably a prop.
Cowboy and Harrison were going to laugh at her, though she held out some hope Abby wouldn’t. “Hey, guys? I think you should take a look at this. You know, just so you can tell me it’s not a bomb.”
The men crouched down on either side of her. Cowboy pulled out his cell phone, a beam of light shining on the device. He and Harrison both cursed out loud. “It’s a bomb, all right,” said Cowboy. “Just when you were afraid that Navy SEAL training was going to go to waste.”
20
3:53.
Three hours and fifty-three minutes.
The bomb was set to detonate during the last show of the evening, the most crowded of the day.
Cowboy was sweating, the still air in the control room now stifling and stale. Harrison had stopped the show and evacuated the theater while Cowboy gathered tools and materials to shield himself from the blast just in case.
If the bomb detonated, the theater was toast. The ceiling was structured in such a way that taking out the control room would knock out the main support beam over the audience. Cowboy had insisted Harrison and the women take cover a safe distance away from the theater.
Some level of explosives training was required in BUD/s training, but Cowboy had taken it one step further and become an explosives expert. There was nothing quite as satisfying as blowing shit up, or in this case, keeping an explosion from happening. At least, that’s what he hoped would happen.