He swam deeper so as not to hit his head on the hulls or rudders of other boats. And the barracuda swam slowly after him, sometimes disappearing in the dark shadow of one boat, only to reappear in a brilliant flash of silver as it entered the sunlit water again. It was, Dave reflected as coolly as he was able, like being followed by a vicious and slightly cowardly dog that was only waiting the right opportunity, such as when his back was turned, to make an attack. And no matter how powerfully Dave kicked his way through the water, the barracuda maintained the same ten feet between them with an effortless flick of its stealth-shaped tail.
Dave risked a glance at his watch. Valuable minutes from an already tight schedule were ticking by. And finding that he had already swum the entire length of the Duke and was now right under the bows of the Jade at the front of the floating dock, he sensed that he would have to do something soon, or his small supply of oxygen would give out. Swimming into a pool of sunlight, Dave glanced up and saw the Jade's bow ladder touching the water about ten feet above his head. Paddling into a more vertical position he saw the sun catch his wristwatch and, at the same time, the barracuda turn fractionally toward the small burst of reflected light. There was only thing for it. Reluctantly, Dave unbuckled the watch and transferred it to the hand still holding the knife. For a second or two he let the sun play on the collection of shiny metal in his hand. Only when he was quite sure that the barracuda was watching the two bright objects did he let them go. As they sank toward the floor of the dock, the barracuda flicked its tail and cruised down after them. The creature's man-trap jaws opened and closed on the fish-scale silver of the watch's metal bracelet.
Dave hardly hesitated. He kicked hard for the undulating surface and the ladder above his head.
Even as he reached and then caught the ladder he felt the great barracuda come up after him. Adrenalin shot through his heart and shoulder muscles, launching him up the ladder with such speed that he almost thought it was someone else's arm hauling him out of the water. Inches under the bottom step of the ladder and the heel of Dave's bare foot, the barracuda arced through the oily surface then disappeared into the shallow blue water below.
Dave plucked the rebreather mouthpiece away and gulped a deep, unsteady breath of the open morning air.
'Holy shit,' he gasped. 'That was close.'
Now the fish was gone, so was the strength in his arms and it was a minute or two before he managed to climb up onto the Jade's deck. Standing there, he took another deep breath and tried to gather himself. The next instant he heard a gunshot and something zipped over his head, ricocheting off the Duke's forward bulkhead. He threw himself flat onto the deck, incredulous at this latest turn of lethal events.
'Jesus. What now?'
Lying there, he tried to determine the direction the shot had come from. Who could have fired it? Had he and Al overlooked someone among the crew or the supernumos? Someone with a gun? Or had Kate simply escaped and armed herself with a gun he hadn't known about? He raised his head a few inches to see if he could spot the gunman, then ducked again as another shot clanged into the radio mast above him. Why didn't Al do something about it? Unless this was the double-cross he had feared.
He had to find out. He crawled toward the rail of the boat and shouted, 'Hey Al, it's me, Dave. Who the fuck is doing the shooting?'
There was a brief and, Dave thought, ominous silence. Then Al said, 'Is that you, Dave?'
'Of course it's me, you idiot. Who the hell do you think it is?'
'What the fuck are you doing down there? I thought you was some nosey parker not staying indoors like he was supposed to.'
Dave jumped to his feet. Angrily tearing off his rebreather, he started up and along the wall of the ship.
'You could have killed me, you dumb fucker.'
Dave waited until he was back on board the Britannia before saying anything else. Al had put the gun in the galley, out of the way, so as not to irritate Dave any further. Otherwise, he was unapologetic.
'The fuck I was supposed to know that was you?'
'I told you not to drink on top of that medication, didn't I? Jesus, you could have shot me.'
'You go over the side of this boat and you surface at the other end of the fucking ship? What am I? A fucking telepath? Do I look like Mister Spock? Naturally I assumed this would be the boat you'd want to get back on, bein' how it's the one you got off of and how it's supposed to be our getaway vehicle carrying millions of dollars in cash.'
Al pointed to the sports bags, stuffed with money, that now filled the boat's lounge and covered the deck, as if Dave needed reminding. He said, 'My drinking ain't got nuthin' to do with the way your sense of direction is so completely all over the place. With how you end up swimming from one end of this fuckin' marina to the other.' Al frowned and then nodded at Dave's wrist. 'Hey, your watch is gone. And there's blood on your leg.'
Dave glanced down at his bleeding calf. He must have got scratched when he hauled himself up the ladder and out of harm's sabre-toothed way.
'The fuck happened down there anyway?' asked Al.
Dave shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe what had happened himself. He started to throw off the headlines securing the Britannia to the Duke's port wall. 'Fucking Jaws is what happened. There was a goddamn barracuda down there. At least six, seven feet long.'
Al looked impressed. 'As big as my dick, huh? That's some fuckin' fish.'
'Fish? That was a prehistoric monster. It was just teeth and fins. Scared the shit out of me. I'm lucky to be here with two arms and two legs.' He threw off the springlines and then looked at his empty wrist. 'It ate my watch. Can you believe that?'
'Ain't no accounting for taste.'
'A $5,000 watch.'
'You can buy seven of those when you get home. One for every day of the week.'
'Yeah, that's right. I can, can't I?' Dave waved Al toward the sternlines. 'Cast off at the stern there, will ya? And let's get outta here before something else happens.'
'Told you that swimming was dangerous,' chuckled Al. 'That bitch in Jaws? The one who goes skinny-dipping at the start of the movie? Everyone knows her ass is heading for the shark's dinner plate. Man, as soon as I saw that fuckin' film I knew you'd never get my dick in salt water. What we saw in Costa Rica just put that in triplicate. The sea's a bad neighborhood. It's like Overtown at night, and you're some dumb tourist drivin' along in a big white rental with "Sucker" written on the rear window sticker. Radio on, splashin' around, makin' a lot of noise, havin' a good time, not a care in the world. But just askin' to get his ass chewed up by some nigger with a knife. Sharks? Barracudas? Same as.'
Kate could hardly believe it when, yelping with pain and her wrist as raw as a bad case of sunburn, she finally extracted her hand from the cuff. Tearing off the tape that covered her mouth she quickly drank a glass of water, then used the lavatory. She was just about to go up on deck when she heard the gunshots. The sound brought a bitter little smile to her sticky lips. They were still on board. And if they were still on board there was a chance that she could stop them. Stop him. She didn't much care about the other guy. Or even the drugs. It was Dave she was after now.