“Keo,” a voice finally said through the radio. Lara. “You’re still alive.”
“Surprised?” Keo said.
“Just worried. What’s going on over there? What’s your situation? We heard shooting. Was that you?”
“It wasn’t Santa Claus. Watch out for snipers. I took one out, but there might be more.”
“I was wondering what was hanging off the bridge’s roof.”
“That would be Rod.”
“You talked to him?”
“I heard the captain and his first mate talking.”
“What else did you hear?”
“Remember our talk? That if I started shooting, there’s a damn good reason for it?”
“I remember.”
“Well, there’s a damn good reason I started shooting.”
She didn’t answer back right away. After a while, she said, “We’re getting ready to head over and board the boat right now.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“There are still three more of them running around outside the bridge. I have no idea where they are at the moment. That means they could be lying in wait for you, so there’s no point in taking the risk. At least, not yet.”
“What about you? Are you under attack?”
“Not right now. They seem to be hanging back.”
He looked over at the door just to make sure. It would have been a hell of a jinx if they burst inside as soon as the words came out of his mouth. But the door was still closed, and there were no telltale vibrations of approaching men.
These guys are either the most patient assholes left in the known universe, or they’re quaking in their boots right now.
“What about the yacht?” Lara asked. “It stopped moving.”
“I killed the engines and dropped anchor. At the moment, I have possession of the bridge. That means I control where the boat goes; or, in this case, doesn’t go. But I don’t have eyes on what’s happening outside or on the two lower decks.”
Another long pause from her. He could almost imagine that brain of hers working, turning over her options, trying to come up with a plan that wouldn’t get her people killed. The kid leader was definitely impressive.
“All right,” she said finally. “We’ll stay back for now. What are you going to do next?”
“I’m going to stay up here and wait for them to make their move. If they’re smart, they’ll realize they’re beat and take one of the life boats and abandon ship.”
“And if they’re not that smart?”
“I got plenty of bullets,” Keo said. “And since I’m surrounded by water in this floating tub, this is one time where the night’s my friend.”
The night settled down into a crawl, with the only noise coming from the occasional slapping of Beaufont Lake’s lazy waves against the hull of the Trident. It always amazed him just how dead the world was at night. Now mostly devoid of the loud excesses of humanity, there was a peacefulness here that, were he a peaceful-loving kind of guy, he might have appreciated.
Now, though, the pervading silence, with armed men somewhere outside the bridge door waiting to kill him, just made him irritable.
Keo glanced down at his watch. 12:51 A.M.
Six hours before sunrise.
He looked over at the captain, who was trying desperately not to pass out in the corner next to him. Keo didn’t know why the man was even fighting an obviously losing battle. In his experience, people sometimes hung onto things when they didn’t have to. But then again, most of the world’s population didn’t see things the way he did. Too bad, because Keo was sure he was right and everyone else was wrong.
“You got a name, cap?” Keo asked.
The man blinked sweat from his eyes, but the prospect of conversation seemed to give him new energy. “Gage.”
“As in 12-gauge?”
“Gage. G-a-g-e.”
“Cute name.”
“What’s yours?”
“This isn’t a date. I ask the questions and you answer them.” Then, “This your boat, Gage?”
“It belonged to this Mexican guy we worked for.”
“What happened to him?”
Gage shrugged. “He didn’t need it anymore.”
Keo smiled. “Gee, I wonder if you had anything to do with that.”
“I didn’t,” Gage said. His eyes flickered to the headless first mate across the room from them. “But Johns did. I…just went along with it.”
“Sure you did.”
“I had to. Johns was in charge.”
“Hey, I believe you,” Keo said, though he assumed Gage knew differently by just looking at him. He had heard the two of them talking earlier. They sounded more like partners-in-crime than boss-and-lackey. “What about the others? What were they doing when this totally mutual exchange of boat ownership went down?”
Gage decided to start drifting off at that moment.
Keo stuck a hand in front of him and snapped his fingers. “Hey, wake up. This is no time to be falling asleep, pal. Especially not in the middle of a Q&A. That’s just rude.”
Gage’s eyes opened back up. “What?”
“You were giving me a very good reason why I shouldn’t just put you out of your misery right now.”
The other man looked alarmed. “I was?”
“Yes. And let me just say, you’re doing quite the shitty job of it.” Keo drew the revolver with its five bullets and laid it across his lap, tapping the trigger guard with his forefinger for effect. “Wanna try harder?”
Gage suddenly looked very alert, or was trying very hard to give that impression, anyway. “The boat. I can drive the boat.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t your boat.”
“It’s not, but I was its captain.”
“That explains the hat,” Keo grinned.
Gage didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
“What about the other three?” Keo asked. “Your crew?”
“A couple of them. The others, we picked up along the way.”
“Like Rod?”
“Yeah.”
Keo glanced over at what was left of the first mate. “What about Johns?”
“He’s just a friend.”
“He was just a friend.”
“Yeah…”
“Your boat buddies. The ones running outside like busy little mice. Any ideas what they’re up to—”
The rattle of automatic gunfire stopped Keo in mid-sentence. His eyes darted to the door before he realized it had come from behind him — from the direction of Song Island.
He got up and hurried to the front of the bridge and looked out toward the island, just in time to see full automatic rifle fire pouring from one of the piers. It was shooting at something bobbing in the water in front of the Trident. A second rifle was shooting from the beach, both weapons spraying at what he could now see was an orange raft, its color making it nearly impossible to miss in the darkness. The small craft had been moving toward the island when it was fired upon. Now, it seemed to be floating in place and Keo could just barely make out a figure lying inside.
He unclipped the radio from his hip and pressed the transmit lever. “Song Island, come in.” He waited for a response, and when he didn’t get one after a few seconds, “Anyone there? What was the shooting about? Song Island, come in.”
“Keo,” Lara said through the radio. “Are you still on the yacht?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“People were heading toward the island on some kind of boat. They fired at Blaine, so we fired back. It’s orange.”
“I see it. Survivors?”
“Doesn’t look like it.” Then, “Shit.”
“What?”
“I think we might have hit it one time too many; it’s starting to sink.”