painful. What if I’m left with a disfiguring scar? Do you think I can sue Aleksandr?’
Luca shook his head in disgust. He knew now more than ever that if they survived this ordeal, then it was definitely time for him to move on.
Thank God it was light out, for if it had been dark there would’ve been no way of finding a body in the sea.
Is that what they were looking for? Flynn wondered. A dead body? Had the pirate
‘Can you see anything?’ he yelled at Taye.
Taye’s eyes scoured the sea until finally he spotted arms waving above the swell. ‘I’m going in,’ he shouted. ‘There’s someone out there.’
‘You a good swimmer?’ Flynn asked, grabbing a life preserver and tossing it overboard.
‘Better than most,’ Taye boasted, stripping off his pants and T-shirt, then making a clean dive over the side of the boat.
The current was surprisingly strong, but it didn’t stop Taye. He swam boldly towards the flailing arms and grabbed the victim in a rescue hold.
‘Thank God!’ Captain Dickson gasped, as Taye managed to get them both back to the boat, where Flynn helped haul them aboard.
The other speedboat was now way off in the distance. Flynn decided they had to go after it anyway to save the girl.
‘What girl?’ Captain Dickson managed, spluttering and coughing up seawater.
‘The stewardess,’ Flynn said. ‘We can’t let them take her.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Captain Dickson said, filled with relief that his prayers had been answered. ‘She’s one of them.’
Horse tranquillizers affect humans in various ways, depending on how much they have ingested. Basra had taken enough to knock out any normal person for many hours; however, there was nothing normal about Basra.
The main drug in horse tranquillizers — Ketamine — was a powerful mind-changer. After having wolfed down several of the brownies Mercedes had laced with the stuff, Basra awoke with a lethal headache and a strong urge to puke.
His mind was a blank slate. He didn’t know where he was or what he was supposed to be doing.
He sat up, swung his feet to the ground and encountered the blood-soaked body of a naked man.
After coughing up a wad of phlegm, he spat it on the man.
Next he picked up his AK assault rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and set off to discover where he was.
Basra was in a killing daze.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
With Captain Dickson safely aboard, and the news that the stewardess, Mercedes, had turned out to be connected to the pirates, Flynn turned the speedboat around and headed back to
Galad was still trussed up and immobile in the back of the boat, although he’d recovered consciousness and was glaring at his captors with deep loathing. They all ignored him while Captain Dickson filled them in on everything he knew — which wasn’t much. Just that the Mexican man was obviously running the operation and had no compunction about leaving his men behind, or even about shooting them.
Flynn tried to discover more about the girl. The Captain had no further information on her, other than that Guy, his entertainment director, had hired her against his wishes.
Flynn flashed back to the day he’d caught Mercedes coming out of his room. He should’ve been suspicious then, but she’d had a perfectly feasible excuse about checking out the mini-bar, and at the time his mind had been concentrating on Sierra.
So, Mercedes had been the pirates’ inside connection. Then who exactly was the Mexican man running the show? As an investigative journalist and a guest on the yacht, Flynn had to find out. For his own peace of mind he needed to know.
The big question was — who had targeted Aleksandr Kasianenko, and why?
Meanwhile, there were things to tidy up on the yacht. How many pirates were still on the loose? Maybe three or even four?
With their leader having taken flight, perhaps they’d surrendered. Flynn sincerely hoped so; he’d had enough action for one day. Besides, he was anxious to see how Sierra was doing.
‘We gotta be careful,’ he warned Taye and the Captain as their speedboat approached
The Captain groaned.
Taye, however, was totally into it.
Random thoughts crossed Cliff’s mind as he and Den swept each deck, guns drawn.
How many times had he enacted a similar scene in a movie? Although in a movie every step was choreographed, every move worked out by a professional stuntman. There was plenty of fake blood when needed. Guns that shot blanks. Actors who made it all look too real.
Cliff had the stance down. Over the years he’d played three detectives, two cops, a renegade gunrunner, a man out to revenge his wife’s murder and a maverick cowboy.
When Cliff was six, his mother had shot his father right between the eyes. It was a secret from his past that he’d managed to hide from the world. Oh yes, Cliff Baxter and guns were way too familiar. Yet he refused to keep one in his home lest a visitor discovered it and shot someone by accident.
So far, he and Den had encountered no lurking pirates.
‘Think they’ve run their sorry arses outta here,’ Den said, as they finished a sweep of the lower deck. ‘Must’ve found out we caught their mates, so they pissed off.’
‘You think?’ Cliff said, lowering his gun.
‘Bunch of yellow bastards,’ Den scoffed. ‘We’re done.’
‘But we didn’t find Flynn or Taye,’ Cliff pointed out.
‘They’re probably in the mess-hall with Aleksandr,’ Den said, quite full of himself. ‘Uh… I mean Mr Kasianenko.’
‘Right,’ Cliff said.
‘We should go join up,’ Den said, wondering if anyone had a camera so he could get a souvenir photo of himself with Cliff Baxter. What a
‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ Cliff said.
Den started off in the other direction, and as he did so, Basra appeared.
The pirate made a grotesque sight. Gaunt and haggard, with his matted dreadlocks and filthy clothes drenched in blood. His face was cadaverous, his eyes manic: he looked like a feral animal caught in a steel trap.
Den had his back to him, he was already heading for the mess-hall.
But Cliff was facing him.
Man to man.
There they were, the grisly murderous pirate and the handsome movie star.
They both raised their guns.
A shot rang out and one of them fell to the ground.
Den spun around. It was too late for him to do anything.
