I grabbed the wheel and started to spin it left. The driver swung a backhand at my nose and I caught it on the side of my face. My head rang for a second. He hit the boat’s kill button, yanked a gun out from under his shirt. I grabbed his wrist with my left hand, slamming my right elbow into his mid-back. He yelped and arched forward, dropping the gun. I kneed him in the face and heard his big nose break before he collapsed in a heap.
The huge yacht was now fifteen yards away, dwarfing us. The man with the binoculars held them casually against his chest and I could clearly make out his Caesar haircut. It was Nolo Tecci, under the same sky as me, smiling like a coyote with a paw on a groundhog.
I fumbled for the start button.
Antonia screamed. Two men on the yacht moved to the bow railing. I caught the gleam of a handgun.
“Get in here now!” I shouted. The driver groaned and turned his head toward me, his face streaked with blood. I kicked him as hard as I could from two feet away.
Antonia burst into the cabin and hit the floor facedown as if diving for home plate. She held up her hand, covered with Big Nose’s blood, and screamed again.
I found the black start knob and jabbed it; the motor roared to life. Turning the wheel left, I pushed full-throttle as the first bullets shattered the glass at the back of the cabin.
“Find his gun,” I barked.
Antonia looked around frantically. “Where? I don’t see it.”
“Look
Antonia reached around Big Nose but she couldn’t budge him. “He’s too heavy! I can’t—”
“Take the wheel,” I shouted.
She sprang to her feet and grabbed the wheel just as two more shots ricocheted off the roof. Instinctively, I put my hand on her head and pushed her down low. I hit the floor, pushed Big Nose over, and found his gun. A Beretta Tomcat, seven-shot. I lurched for the back door, grabbing the jamb. I took a wide stance, aimed at one of the guys on the bow, and squeezed off three rounds. He grabbed his chest and went over backward.
Our right window splintered. Antonia screamed and swerved the boat, covering her face with her arm.
“Are you hit?” I shouted.
“No, I don’t think so!”
I spotted a ferry three hundred yards off to the left. “Head for the ferry!” I yelled.
More shots chipped wood off the stern. I crouched, squinted, and squeezed off two more rounds at another shooter on the bow. His leg burst red and he grabbed it, lost his balance, and fell overboard.
Antonia screamed, “Reb! What do I do?”
“Give me a minute. I’m thinking!”
“We haven’t got a minute!”
Three more shots splintered the doorframe. I tore open a closet. A dented old gas can. I grabbed it, gave it a shake. More than half full. I spotted a screwdriver and quickly poked a dozen holes in the top of the can.
“What are you doing?” Antonia shouted.
“Give me your scarf,” I ordered, spinning the cap off.
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
Shots tore through the cabin, exploding the windshield. Warm liquid-splashed the side of my face and Antonia screamed again. I felt my cheek. Wet, but no pain. I checked out Big Nose. His neck was spurting like a burst garden hose.
Antonia glanced my way and saw the blood. “Oh my God!”
“It’s not me.” I pointed at Big Nose. “It’s him.”
Over Antonia’s shoulder, I could see we were closing on the ferry; its horn honked loudly. A crowd of tourists pointed at us.
I stuffed most of the scarf into the gas can. I reached into Big Nose’s pocket and found his lighter.
Antonia was at the wheel, crouching low, the wind whipping her straight dark hair. “What now?” she shouted.
“Go around the front of the ferry, close to it. Cut hard and come up behind the stern of the yacht, full speed.”
“But they’re shooting at us!”
“Full speed!”
“All right! Don’t yell at me!”
We were bearing down on the ferry and I could see people waving and screaming.
“Cut around it now!”
I staggered my way onto the back deck, Beretta in one hand, gas can in the other. The third man stood at the bow in a shaky firing stance with what looked like a submachine gun tucked into his armpit. He was taking aim. I raised the pistol and fired the last two shells at his midsection. He fell back out of sight. I dropped the gun.
