DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten (the Charlie Fox crime thriller series) (37 page)

Dyer gave a single shake of his head. “Go,” he said. “Save the others.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed. He gave a faint smile. I turned away from him, asked Sean, “How many left guarding the casino?”

“Two,” he said. “We should clear the hostages before we take the bridge.”

“Was anyone else separated out?”

“Apart from Mrs van Zant, just Miss Sinclair and Vic Morton—I don’t know where they were taken.” He glanced at Jimmy as if seeing him for the first time. “He should know.”

I indicated Tom O’Day. “Tom suggested we try the meat locker in the galley.”

Sean nodded. “Good idea,” he said. His eyes shifted across Blake Dyer’s figure. There was a hollow note to his voice I recognised as guilt—guilt that he hadn’t killed Castille while he had the chance. “Someone should stay here.”

Baptiste said quickly, “I’ll stay.”

“Someone Blake knows,” I said, ignoring him.

Someone he loves—someone who loves him.

“I guess that would be either me or Jimmy,” Tom O’Day said. He glanced at his son. “Jimmy, I think—”

Jimmy must have known what was coming. “
You
should stay with Uncle Blake,” he interrupted, voice firm and calm. “I–I need to find Autumn—see that she’s safe.”

Tom O’Day rocked back a little. He nodded, swallowed as if unable to speak.

“OK, son,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

He flicked the safety onto the M16 and handed it across. Jimmy took it gingerly. He rolled his shoulders and covertly copied Sean’s stance.

I sighed, picked the gun out of his hands and held it so he could clearly see the fire selector. “Safe. Single shot. Full auto,” I said. “Stick to single shot—one round at a time. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire, and don’t point it at anything you’re not prepared to kill. OK?”

Jimmy glanced at Sean again, as if hoping for more advice.

Sean shook his head. “That about covers it,” he said.

Most beginners, I remembered, fared better with a long gun than a pistol. I could only hope Jimmy fell into the majority. Probably best not to have him behind us, though. Just in case.

“What about me?” Baptiste demanded.

Sean checked over our captured weapons supply, gave one to me and left one on the deck next to Tom O’Day where he sat with his dying friend. He turned back to Baptiste and shook his head.

“No way,” he said coldly. “The last time you had a gun in your hands, you shot a man in the back.”

In the end we gave Baptiste a couple of the unbroken bottles from the bar. After all, he’d proved numerous times on the baseball field that he could pitch a fast ball at close to a hundred miles an hour, and hit a target as small as a catcher’s mitt more than sixty feet away. What better weapon to give him than something he could throw?

Sean led us down the service staircase towards the casino deck. Baptiste followed, then Jimmy, still nervously clutching the unfamiliar M16. I brought up the rear, checking up and back to make sure nobody came down on top of us.

The casino was on the lowest deck. We reached the bottom of the staircase unmolested. Sean made a closed-fist “hold” gesture as we gathered outside the double doors leading through into the bar area at the back of the casino floor. We waited, straining to hear what was going on inside. Noises, voices, confusion.

Sean indicated that Jimmy and Baptiste should wait. He signalled me low right while he would go high left. I swallowed, just once, then nodded.

I’d been through doors before with Sean but this time was different.

This time
he
was different.

I tried not to let that matter, moving at the same instant he did, diving through the door the second he pushed it aside. I hit the deck, rolled, landing on my belly with my elbows spread into a firing stance, anchored, tight.

Even as I went in, as fast and aggressive as Sean himself, my eyes were searching for the first target. The first man with a weapon in a room full of non-combatants. In a fraction of a second my eyes fed information and my brain processed it.

Two armed assailants, in two locations with hostages behind them.

I tracked the one on the right, knowing Sean would automatically target the other. The man half-turned and froze at our explosive entry, presenting me with a near perfect sight-picture. I would have normally aimed for low centre body mass, but I had a solid opportunity for a head shot with no clutter behind him. I let my body drop to raise my aim a fraction, took up pressure on the trigger.

The butt of the M16 kicked into my shoulder. I had time to see the hijacker jerk from the impact and start to fall. There was no need for a second round.

In my peripheral vision I saw the second gunman take a couple of solid hits to the body but he didn’t go down. Some of the security guys had elected for body armour, I recalled. It was clear our assailants had done so as well.

I twisted onto my side, sweeping the gun round fast. The hijacker was already lining up on Sean, a snarl of pain and fury on his face. I knew there was no way Sean should have let him get that far.

Come on, for God’s sake, take him!

Still he hesitated that vital split-second.

I couldn’t afford to wait. I squeezed the trigger for another head shot, feeling nothing but frustration. The shot was clean, and all animation abruptly left him. Part of me knew I should have let Sean counter his own demons.

And part of me was afraid he wasn’t going to.

The sound of gunfire inside the casino was raucous. Into the artificial silence that followed the sounds of the room returned slowly to my bruised ears. Muffled sobs and sounds of fright. As it equalised I saw one of the bodyguards rise. He’d thrown himself over an elderly man in a tuxedo as soon as the shooting started.

“Meyer?” he said in disbelief, coming up out of a crouch. “Hey, man, we thought you were fish food. How d’you pull that one off?”

Sean didn’t say anything, just jerked his head sideways. The man followed his gaze across to me, lying behind the gun. After a moment, he nodded.

“Ah . . . good work,” he said, and if the praise was cool the fact it was offered at all meant more.

Then, with sudden force, the doors to the casino were shoved open. I rolled over onto my back, lifting the M16 up and ready.

Baptiste and Jimmy came in, hurrying. Behind them, as if using them as a shield, came another man with a gun.

I lined up on him instinctively, sights on his mouth where he would drop fast and clean. It was all smooth and automatic now, drilled in. I started to take up the trigger.

And realised the man behind the gun was Vic Morton.

I almost took the shot anyway.

Almost.

Then he swung the muzzle of the gun up and to the side, spread his arms in the universal gesture of, if not surrender then too much of a non-threat for me ever to justify.

Shit—too slow.

I let the muzzle of the gun drift down slowly.

Shaky from the adrenaline flooding my system, I got to my feet. “I thought they took you away,” I said, aware of a slight note of disappointment in my voice. “How did you get loose?”

Morton held up his right arm. One bracelet of a set of handcuffs was still fastened around his wrist. The other was locked but hanging free. Now I checked him out, Morton had a narrow sliced cut through his eyebrow, the blood congealed around his eye. There was also a darkening bruise on his jaw.

“Guess the bit of this old tub they attached me to wasn’t quite as structurally sound as they hoped,” he said.

The realisation that they’d been rescued was gradually dawning on people. Their faces were shocked and greyed, but relief started to show through. Some had recovered enough to eye Baptiste with contempt. Whatever else they tried to forget about this night, they would not forget his confession—however it had been extracted. Watching Baptiste’s face, I saw the moment that fact settled on him.

“If these people are safe, we need to secure the rest of the ship,” I said. “Do we have any other casualties down here?”

The other bodyguard shook his head. “Just these two bad guys,” he said.

“And another further aft,” Morton said casually. When Sean glanced at him he shrugged. “I had to get a gun from somewhere, didn’t I?”

The bodyguard raised his eyebrows, cracked a smile. “You Brits really don’t mess around, huh?”

Morton grinned at Sean. “That’s how I was trained,” he said. He switched his gaze to me. “Eh, Fox?” And I realised he knew without a doubt how close I’d been to killing him. The satisfaction at my own self-restraint was blunted only by his smug expression.

“Did you find Autumn?” Jimmy blurted.

“No,” Morton said. “I thought they took the two of you off together.”

“They kept us apart,” Jimmy said, sounding desperate. “We
have
to find her.”

He started for the door, still clutching his M16. I put my arm out to stop him.

“Nobody goes off anywhere until we have retaken control of this ship.” And when he would have struggled to pull free I added, “You saw what happened up in the bar, Jimmy. Want that to be you?”

He stopped struggling.

“What happened?” Morton asked. “Mr O’Day—is he all right?”

I should have known he’d be worried about the guy who signed the cheques.

“He’s fine,” Sean said. “But Blake Dyer took a knife in the belly. If we don’t get him some help soon . . .” He didn’t need to finish that sentence.

Morton let out a low whistle and fixed me with a crafty eye. “Bummer of a thing to have happen on your watch, Fox.”

Bastard
.

I had neither the time nor the inclination to start offering feeble excuses, knowing that’s exactly how they would have come across.

“We need to move,” Sean said shortly. “These guys obviously had an exit strategy. If we’re going to stop them using it we need to act now.”

“We should split up—cover more ground that way,” Morton said. “I’ll head for the bridge. See how fast the skipper can get this old crate dockside.”

“See if he’s got any kind of radio gear that isn’t being jammed,” Sean said. “We need some reinforcements—and a medevac.”

Morton nodded, pulled the M16 up into his shoulder and went out.

“What about Autumn?” Jimmy demanded, his face flushed. “We can’t just forget about her. Dad said we should try the meat locker—”

“We haven’t forgotten,” I said, although I got the feeling Sean did not have finding the missing woman high on the priority list. “I’ll check out the galley.”

I turned, would have followed Morton out through the doors to the service stairwell when Sean called me back.

“No, I want you with me, Charlie,” he said. I would have argued, but something in his voice warned me it would not be a good idea. “Jimmy, stay here and help look after these people.” He jerked his head to me and headed for the outer deck instead, without waiting to see if I was right behind him.

As soon as we were outside he paused.

I took a breath. “Sean—”

He whirled to face me. “No,” he said again, more sharply this time. “You think I didn’t see what happened back there? You think I don’t know how close you were to slotting him?” He let his own breath out, fast and hard. “No, Charlie, I want you right where I can see you.”

“Yes. He dropped into my sights and just for a second I was tempted,” I said. “But do you honestly think I’d go after him in cold blood?”

Be very careful how you answer.

“I don’t know.” Sean made an impatient gesture, ended up rubbing his scar as if it itched in some kind of warning. He let out his breath. “OK, no. I just don’t want to give you the opportunity—to let temptation get in the way. We’ve got enough on our plates.”

“If I was planning to follow through on a vendetta,” I said tightly, “I would have gone after Morton and his pals years ago.”

He looked at me for a moment, then murmured, “Yeah, you would as well, wouldn’t you?”

But as he turned away and we hurried along the side deck heading aft, I saw the doubt in his face.

Good thing he moved ahead and couldn’t see the doubt in mine.

Sean feared I might shoot too easily. I remembered his hesitation and feared he might not shoot easily enough.

We progressed as fast as we dared while still remaining quiet, keeping as far apart as the side deck allowed to present a wider target spread. Sean stayed a little in front. I hung back, covering his rear and my own.

It was Sean, therefore, who caught first sight of the man’s body.