Cybernation

wipe the computers, but she would have time enough to destroy the disk, and that was all that she could do now. If they caught her, CyberNation’s lawyers would get her out of jail, and once that happened, she would disappear. She had half a dozen false identities ready for use, money stashed under those names. This was a big loss, but she would survive. She could start over, under another name. Work her way back up. It might even be fun, that kind of challenge.

She couldn’t risk hiding the disk. They might take this ship down to the waterline for all she knew, and if they found it, CyberNation would suffer a major, maybe even a killing blow. The files were damning — names, dates, places, a criminal prosecutor’s dream. She had done it to protect herself in case CyberNation decided she was no longer worth having around, but now she needed their help, and anything that hurt them might hurt her.

It wasn’t enough just to break the disk. Supposedly there were recovery devices now that could get information from fragmented DVDs. It could be glued back together, and while some of it would be lost, much could be salvaged. She couldn’t afford the risk.

No, she had to make sure there was nothing left to recover.

There was a cigarette lighter on her desk, a fancy thing of carved jade and semiprecious stones, a gift from a former lover. She would burn the disk. The pistol would make sure nobody would get to her before the disk was destroyed, if need be. A few shots fired into the floor or ceiling would make anybody heading her way cautious. She’d only need a minute or two. After that, she would surrender. Sooner or later, she would make bail.

She hurried down the corridor toward her office.

39

Toni came out of the room; she looked carefully up and down the corridors. There were people milling about, a score of tourists who were puzzled and upset, but none of them were Santos or any of his guards that she could tell.

“What’s going on?” somebody said.

“Pirates!” a fat man answered. “We’ve been taken over by hijackers!”

Toni smiled.

“What’s funny, lady?” a bald man with a bad complexion said. “You think being hijacked by pirates is funny?”

“It’s not pirates,” she said. “It’s just my husband, come to rescue me.”

The man stared at her as if she had turned into a giant snake. She smiled again and started toward the stairs.

Boy, this was gonna be a great story to tell Little Alex someday. Maybe when he was forty or fifty…

40

“I never saw anybody move like that!” Jay said.

“Did you hit him?” the boss asked.

John Howard shook his head. “Not so you’d notice. I didn’t think a man could be that fast, rolling and all. He a gymnast?”

“Capoeira,” the boss said. “South American fighting art.”

“We’ll get him,” Howard said. “We have the ship. The more important thing is, our people control the computer room, and they’ve pulled the plug. Jay here can have a field day.” He pulled a pistol from his belt and threw it to Michaels. “But just in case we run into your friend along the way, here. If you see him, shoot him.”

Michaels nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

As they were heading toward the stairs, Toni appeared.

Michaels nearly knocked her down he grabbed her so hard. They hugged, spun in a circle. Jay could feel the relief coming off both of them like heat off a fireplace. And he had to admit, he felt a lot better himself. He had been worried a little.

Toni held up a mini-DVD. “The plans for the attack on the net,” she said. “They ramped things up. You need to get these locations to the appropriate authorities,” she said.

Howard took the disc. “Yes, ma’am. Although they won’t be doing anything from here. We control this vessel.”

“You collected Santos and Jasmine Chance?”

“Not yet. But we will.”

“He’s a dangerous man,” she said.

“Tell me about it,” the boss said.

* * *

Santos saw that the door to Missy’s office was closed, and when he got to it, he found it locked. She wasn’t in her room, and he didn’t think she would be trying to hide on the ship, she was too smart not to know they’d find her. No, she’d be here, and likely working on some scheme to save her beautiful ass. That was the thing about Missy, she always had a backup plan.

He touched the door, nodded once, and stepped back. He hit it with his shoulder and slammed it open, recovered his balance, and moved through the atrium to the inner office.

“Roberto! What are you doing?”

She had a cigarette lighter in one hand, a small pistol in the other. Something was burning in the ashtray on her desk.

“Come to pay my respects, Missy. Leaving you a little gift before I retire.”

“What are you talking about? We don’t have time for this!”

“Your left leg, I think,” he said. “Just above the knee. I think that would balance us. I wasn’t so rough on Jackson, but it wasn’t really his fault, was it? When your woman screws another man, if it isn’t rape, then she is the one who is responsible. All she has to do is say ‘No.’ You will have plenty of time to think on it when you are propped up in the cast waiting to heal.”

She raised the gun. “You’ve lost your mind. I’m not going to just stand here and let you break my leg!”

He grinned. “Easier on you if you do. You think that little gun is enough? You sinned, you know it. It’s only justice.”

“You talk about justice?! You were humping every waitress and change girl on the ship! You think I didn’t know? Get out!”

“Men are men,” he said. “It’s not the same. You can’t understand that.” He took a step forward.

She dropped the cigarette lighter and grabbed the pistol with her other hand. Aimed right at his chest.

“If you shoot, I will break your neck instead. A leg is not so bad.”

He took another step.

She shot him. The noise didn’t seem all that loud, and the impact of the bullet, high and to his right, didn’t hurt. It was like being hit with a finger-poke, nothing, really. He leaped—

* * *

Chance pulled the trigger, again and again, until the pistol clicked empty. She saw the holes appear in Santos’s body, his chest, belly, one in his outstretched hand, but he kept coming!

She tried to leap out of the way, but he snagged her with one big arm, caught her around the waist—

She hammered at his head with the butt of the pistol, saw the skin tear on his scalp, watched the bright red blood gush, but he wouldn’t let go…

He dragged her down, knocked the chair behind her away, slammed her back against the floor

“Roberto! Don’t—!”

She kept hammering at his head. Saw him grinning through the blood streaming down his face. He slid his hand up her body, caught her by the throat. He squeezed, his big fingers biting into the vessels of her neck. Her sight went gray.