Undertow (37 page)

Teal tried to separate how many voices she heard, but quickly realized it was impossible.

The good news was the bunch of muscle-bound guys was gathered on the p row watching the
Decrepit
. Al together. In one space. And neatly confined to the front wedge of the
Slow
Dance
like cornered rats. The bad news? If any of them glanced up, they·d see her slithering on her bel y along the level above them.

Very careful y, clutching the plastic bag and bottles in one arm, she crawled out of the window, onto the roof of what was probably the salon below. It wasn·t meant to be walked on, and the shiny white paintwork was slick and slightly sloped. As the men talked, their voices covered the crinkling of the plastic bag and the chink of glass on glass as she moved cautiously into position, flat on her stomach.

Careful y withdrawing her Molotov cocktails, she lined them up under the window she·d just come through.

Maria and Janel e were to wait for the second explosion before they crossed the open back deck, then they had to run like hel for the dive platform and the launch. They·d be waiting back there now, scared and eager to go.

She lifted her hip and, two-fingered, withdrew a book of matches. Lighting the tampon in the first bottle, Teal kept her head down, and lobbed it over the edge of the roof. One. Two ³

It shattered on the narrow deck walkway below with a gratifying
boom
! She felt the heat of the flames and the rush of air from the explosion, but didn·t waste time looking as she bel y -

crawled to the other side and lit and dropped the next one as black smoke bil owed among the leaping flames.

Boom!
Pause «
Whoosh!

The men went bal istic, and she heard the clicks and snaps of guns as they yel ed at one another to ´Go there, go over there. Get³µ

Suppressing a cough as the smoke tickled her throat, she lit the fuse of the third, let it rol down the slope of the roof toward them.
Boom!
Pause «
Whoosh!

Several men jumped overboard to avoid the ensuing explosion. There was nowhere to run because both narrow decks leading to the front of the boat were engulfed in super cool looking, ten-foot-high flames.

With relief, Teal heard the faint sound of the launch·s engine·s starting up.
Go.

Go. Go
. She lit another match, held it to the fuse. The match blew out. She struck another.

Shit. The wind got that one too. Four matches later, she managed to touch it to the tampon fuse. This time, it flared, then caught the alcohol-saturated cotton.

She let that bottle rol off to one side of the roof, lit another, and sent that one down the opposite side. The sound of the rol ing glass was lost in al the other noise of shooting flames, men yel ing, and a couple of sharp retorts of gunfire. Nobody was going to hear her stomping around up there.

The entire front wedge of the
Slow Dance
·s bow was engulfed in leaping flames. And leaping
men
as more of them went into the water, screaming like little girls.

Teal grinned as she crawled backward, staying low. Not that any of them had time to look up; they probably thought the bombs had come from across the water.

Taking the last cocktail with her, she climbed back inside the window, then paused to admire her handiwork before she used some muscle to throw the last bottle far and wide.

She dusted off her hands, pleased with her work. Smiling, she turned around and slammed smack into the man standing directly behind her.

Uh-oh.

´You appear to have a death wish, young lady.µ

The flames shooting up behind her reflected in the mirrored surface of the man·s black -

rimmed glasses. Salt-and-pepper hair, pink shirt. Big scowl. Throbbing forehead vein. Angry as hel . Which meant his tight control, as he jammed his fists into the front pockets of his pristine white dress slacks, was scarier.

She was already beyond scared. Being this close to evil brought her right back to her childhood and the various únclesµ her mother had entertained. She angled her chin, as if she didn·t have a care in the world. ´Wanna back up, big guy?µ She narrowed her eyes. Í

don·t like being hit by some goon or imprisoned against my wil ,µ Teal told the man she presumed was Werner.

He was too in control and too wel dressed to not be the boss. He wasn·t alone. Two burly guys flanked him. Teal kept her attention on him, knowing he was the most dangerous of the three. She tried to see his eyes. Tried to gauge what was coming next. But al she could see were leaping orange flames and black smoke reflected in the lenses covering his expression. She coughed as some of the smoke blew in through the open window behind her.

Please, let the girls have escaped.

´My men said you were a spitfire.µ He reached out his finger to caress her cheek and it was al Teal could do not to cringe. ´You, my dear, are my bargaining chip,µ he said with a faint German accent. Únfortunately, you wil have to accept my hospitality for a little longer while we wait for Mr. Cutter to return my property.µ

The three men had her backed against the bank of windows with the most excel ent view of the incinerated prow. She got some satisfaction watching the flames dance in the man·s lenses.

´You picked the wrong bargaining chip. He doesn·t give a rat·s ass about me,µ

she said flatly. ´Where is he?µ

´Who? Your Mr. Cutter?µ

Ńot mine, but yeah. Where is he?µ Teal couldn·t even feel her heart, it was beating so fast.

Or hel , maybe it had stopped.

´He·s attaching the lift to bring the Cessna up on deck.µ

So Zane had come back. Alone? ´Then what?µ

´Then he must retrieve the chip from the wreckage and give it to me.µ

Ánd then you·l kil him.µ

His lips curved with unpleasant satisfaction. Ánd before we do
that, Schatzie,
we have promised your lover that we wil do everything in our power to encourage his speed and compliance. With you.µ

Okay. There was her heart. Throbbing loud enough to hear it as dizziness made her skin heat, then freeze. She didn·t want to know how or what. The threat was sufficient to terrify her.

She struggled to find moisture to lubricate her tongue. She was damned if she·d go down whimpering. ´The girls are gone. They·re coming back with the cops.µ

´Too bad. But you did save us time. We were g oing to have to dispose of them anyway. Did you help them escape?µ When Teal nodded, he showed large, too white teeth, and absolutely no humor behind that toothy smile. ´What an enterprising young woman you are. We·l have to find a more secure location for the rest of your visit. Which, if your lover doesn·t hurry, wil be woeful y short.µ He snapped his fingers at the man on his right, then turned to leave.

The man grabbed her upper arm in a fist the size of a Thanksgiving turkey.

´Wait! Oh, please,µ Teal put every ounce of her seventh -grade drama skil s into her voice as the older man glanced back. ´Please, please don·t put me anywhere there are big engines.

The noise«µ She let her voice break and tried to look girly and very frigh tened and completely unthreatening. The first two she was.

´
Machines
of
any
kind. I·m claustrophobic and the vibrations and the smel make me deathly sick. I·l ³µ She managed a ful body shudder. ´
Anywhere
else, okay? I promise I won·t even
try
to get away again. A guest cabin«?µ

Śhut her up.µ

Shit. She·d overplayed her hand.

The man gripping her arm pul ed back his fist. Teal glared at him as her spit dried up again, and her heart went manic. She struggled to get out of the way, her neck arching painful y.

´Don·t you
da
³µ

Everything went black.

* * *

The two men split up, flanking Zane·s position and coming at him fast, darting through the water like fucking barracudas. Zane squeezed off a shot. A dead click.

Out of bul ets. Shit. He dropped the gun, tightening his fingers around his dive knife.

Inside his suit, he was bathed in a cold sweat, and his heartbeat was hard and fast.

He warned himself to control his breathing and stay focused.

This wasn·t a fight. This was combat. Th ey were experienced, he wasn·t.

Which meant he had to stay cool, and calm, and two steps ahead of them at al times.

A blur of black, a white face behind the mask, fil ed with cold intent. Zane threw himself backward as the first guy hit his shoulder with a powerful fist. Bubbles shot through the water from their regulators. A moray eel shot out of hiding, teeth bared, but quickly became a shadow of movement as it darted away. Al Zane saw was an arching blur of steel catch the light where his heart had been a moment before.

He rol ed and twisted out of reach, then came back into the guy. There was no doubt the other man wanted blood. His expression was set, his eyes, behind his mask, telegraphed death. He was also shocked that he hadn·t done what he planne d with the attack.

Him or me. Him or me.
Zane chanted in his head, as he tightened his grip on his knife. These men weren·t just tough guys. They were battle ready, professional kil ers. They·d been
ordered
to get the Alphachip and kil
him
.

They had orders. Zane had Teal. It was as simple and complicated as that.

The second man came in fast, hovering somewhere near Zane·s left shoulder.

Zane used his flippers to angle out of reach as fast as possible, but they came at him in perfect unison, knives flashing. Zane pushed the inflation button on his buoyancy vest, causing him to rapidly shoot upward, out of reach, with seconds to spare.

Their surprise didn·t last long; with arms and feet churning, they came after him. Zane dived down. Fast. He·d spotted something that might come in useful on the sand. But he had to get there in one piece to grab it.

Anything he could use to his advantage, against their experience and training, was a plus.

As the first man came at him, his knife held like a fist, Zane pick ed up the gold bar and rammed it into the man·s mask, putting his body behind the blow. The mask cracked and slid off the man·s shocked face. His mouthpiece floated free and bubbles shot upward in a rapid silver stream.

Zane grabbed him from behind, his elbow around the guy·s throat. He used his struggling body as a shield as the second guy came in for the kil .

The man was swimming in fast, coming at Zane from above.
Wait for it. Wait
for it
. Zane shot out his arm, the gold bar clutched tightly in his fi st. He hit the guy in the bal s with al his might. He rol ed up like a centipede. Screaming into his air bubbles as he gripped his dick with both hands, and rol ed around and around, suspended in agony.

Zane released the guy he was holding onto and let hi m float up slowly. He swam to his doubled-over friend and cut his regulator hose, releasing a frantic ribbon of bubbles as the man·s eyes went wide and terrified with the knowledge. He hung in the water, then slowly started rising.

Zane glanced at his dive watch, angling it to catch more light. Heartbeat fast, but fairly steady, he knew he was now wel beyond the thirty -minute mark.

And while there was fuck-al Pink Shirt could do to him down here, there was Teal stuck on board the
Slow Dance
to consider.

Zane put on speed and swam to the Cessna. The chains from the crane hung down like a delicate cage around the broken fuselage. Time. It ticked in his brain as though a fucking clock was right by his ear.
Go. Go. Go!

He grabbed the lead chain and started dragging it away from the plane. It was hard going, sweat filmed his skin, the wet suit itched, his slashed arm burned, his right hand, the one he·d used to strike the men, throbbed. A glance up showed four divers stil suspended in the water. They hadn·t reached the surface. Yet.

Zane didn·t want to think about whether they were alive or not. He pul ed and tugged that fucking chain, using one arm to hold it over his shoulder as he swam, dragged it through water that felt as thick and viscous as honey.
Hurry-hurry-hurry.

When he reached the first cannon, he swam the chain around it several times, fixing the lifts to the heavy, ten-foot length of solid bronze. Then took a length and swam the twelve feet to the other saker, wrapping and securing the chain around that one as wel .

It would take a while to raise the weight. They·d take their time, mindful that the Cessna could break apart further, and drop back to the ocean floor in smal er pieces. The cannon would delay them, but not for long. Let them suck on that.

Zane started swimming toward the
Slow Dance
. And Teal.

Holding her hot face where the second guy had punched her, Teal shifted her jaw to see if he·d broken it. Nothing appeared busted, but it ached like hel . The bastard. She was lying on a cold vinyl floor. The familiar, comforting throb of a generator soothed her frazzled, indignant nerves. The lights were very bright overhead. She closed her eyes again and waited for the dizziness and nausea to abate before she sat up.

The double pain in her jaw was nothing compared to her elation when she realized where they·d put her.

Ah, man
. ´This is what I·m talking about!µ The
Slow Dance
·s engine room. She took a moment to have severe engine envy. The 3516s were stark white, and someone had splurged on the chrome package for the luxury pleasure craft·s beautiful engines. The place gleamed like a gangster·s dental work.

Teal coveted those engines for the
Decrepit
like a druggie craved crack. She would·ve gi ven anything to spend a couple of hours there. Instead, she got up and looked around for tools.

She had no idea how much time she had, but she wasn·t going to waste a second. Even to stroke and fondle a sweet pair of 3516s. The
Slow Dance
might have pristine and beautiful engines, but whoever worked in the ER was a slob. His tools were stuffed along with dirty rags in a nearby tool drawer.