Dragon's Triangle (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 2) (31 page)

“Come on,” the skipper said. “Let’s go round them up.”

The man might as well admit he can’t control his own men
, Ozzie thought. He followed him to the far side of the cave and stood staring up at the dragon’s gaping mouth. The workmanship was extraordinary. The value of the statue would go far beyond its weight in gold.

“H2O. Try your hand,” the skipper said. “See if they’ll listen to you.”

One sailor had taken off his shirt, spread it out on the cave floor, and piled gold bricks on it. He was now tying the cloth around it to make a bundle he could carry in one hand while he held his flashlight in the other. He was just a kid, no more than nineteen years old.

Ozzie walked up and shoved his shoulder. “Sailor!” he barked.

The young man jumped up and saluted.

A loud bang echoed in the stone chamber, and a hole appeared in the kid’s forehead. His flashlight hit the ground first and his body crumpled after it.

Ozzie drew his weapon and crouched, looking all around him, but he didn’t see anyone other than their own men. The shot seemed to have come from very close by. The gold now forgotten, the other sailors grabbed their rifles. The skipper scrambled for cover behind one of the larger crates.

“Turn off your flashlights,” Ozzie said.

The other lights clicked off except for the one lone beam that still lit the cave floor next to the dead sailor.

Jensen, a machinist first class, stood with his rifle to his shoulder and began advancing on the dragon. One of the others clicked a flashlight on. As he shone the light around the platform and the pile of gold bricks, a dragon-shaped statue danced on the wall.

Another shot sounded. The sailor dropped his rifle and pitched forward onto the pile of gold bricks. The flashlight clicked off, leaving the cave in the eerie half light from that single flashlight beam.

The shots seemed to be coming from somewhere on the other side of the dragon. The prince had said the statue was on a cart. Ozzie wondered if the shooter could be under it.

Ozzie began to crawl backward, staying as close as he could to the side of the walkway next to the wood crates. If he could just locate the prince he could get him to put a stop to this. He cursed himself for not keeping the man close to him when he went with Westbrooke.

He heard the skipper’s hushed voice calling out to his remaining men. “Can anyone spot the shooter?”

Still on his knees, Ozzie lifted himself up to look over the top of the crates next to him. He saw some movement. One of the sailors had hung his shirt on his rifle barrel and then raised it up above the crate he was hiding behind. Ozzie shifted his eyes to watch the back of the cave wall. With another loud pop, a bullet tore a hole through the fabric. Ozzie hadn’t seen any movement or muzzle flash, but he was certain that was where the bullets were coming from. Where the hell was the shooter hiding?

“Captain Westbrooke.” Prince Masako’s voice sounded loud in the silence following the shots. “Unless you want my men to kill you one by one, I suggest you order your men to lay down their arms.”

Westbrooke stood with his hands in the air and issued the order.

Ozzie joined the others as they lined up and placed their weapons on the ground in front of them. Ben appeared and pointed at Ozzie’s flashlight. He handed it to the boy. Ben walked over to the pile of weapons, picked up a pistol, and disappeared back into the darkness.

There was movement back where Ben had gone. It was the prince in his white uniform. He stepped out from behind one of the large crates and spoke what sounded like an order in Japanese. A flashlight clicked on, blinding the Americans lined up with their hands in the air.

There was a loud clank of metal behind them. Ozzie turned away from the light to look. A small door hung open in the raised belly of the dragon. A man dressed in what looked like white pajamas tumbled out. He reached back inside the statue and pulled out a rifle.

Ozzie smiled. Well played, Prince.

Aboard Indonesian Fishing Boat
Natuna Besar

November 24, 2012

Elijah ducked as the pirogue slapped into a wave and salt spray flew back over the occupants of the boat. Irv was sitting next to him on the wooden bench seat, and the old man swore as he wiped the water off his face and neck. Elijah kept his eyes on the ribbon of blue water between the overhanging green jungle banks. The wind was blowing straight down the estuary inlet, creating wind waves that hit them as soon as they’d left the dock. He was determined not to let the old man know how nauseous he felt.

Benny had left their hotel in Ranai before dawn to go out on the fishing boat they’d hired to intercept the woman’s boat. He’d called over an hour ago to say he had succeeded and would meet them as planned at the anchorage on the west side of the island.

Elijah had spent the morning with Irv making certain that he would never again consider stealing property that belonged to the Enterprise. Elijah hadn’t wanted to stress the old man’s weak heart—especially when he knew how soft it was. Even as remote a place as Ranai
had prostitutes. Turned out it wasn’t even necessary to cut the woman. The threat had been enough to have the old man begging for another chance.

Elijah had put himself into this situation of being overreliant on someone. He would fix it as soon as they had the documents and the old man had provided them with the location. Irv said he had stolen the documents and sold them because he wanted to retire and disappear. It was time for Irv to train his successor, and then Elijah would be happy to make him disappear.

When the green banks fell away and the bay opened up, Elijah saw the brightly painted fishing boat towing a sailboat less than a mile away. The boat was much bigger than the pirogue. He guessed that the boat’s driver was just inside that back cabin looking out the windows across the front. He turned around and motioned to their boat driver, a brown little man who squatted in the stern next to the pirogue’s ancient motor. The driver nodded and pointed at a sheltered cove just ahead. It looked like the fishing boat was headed that way, too.

Elijah recognized Benny moving among the others on the deck of the boat. They were rigging an awning to cover the foredeck that was piled high with nets, equipment, and plastic fuel drums. As their pirogue closed on the fishing boat, Elijah could hear the loud
put-put
of the engine. He wondered how the fishermen could stand it.

The bigger boat slowed and as the sailboat coasted up to it one of the fishermen jumped aboard. He threw off the towline and prepared to anchor the sailboat. The pirogue driver pulled his boat alongside the fishing boat just as it dropped its anchor a hundred feet away from the sailboat. The fishing boat captain shut down the noisy engine.

Benny reached down to give Irv a hand as the two men climbed aboard. “Perfect timing,” he said. “She’s just starting to come around.”

Elijah followed the older man, and he was struck by the overpowering stench of fish, gasoline, and body odor. And the heat. Now that
he was no longer moving through the water, the air was absolutely still. He already felt his shirt was damp under his arms.

“What do you mean?” Irv said. He had already taken his hat out and was fixing it on his head. The odor didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“I shot her with a dart,” Benny said.

Irv’s hands stopped moving. “What?”

“It’s okay. Nothing deadly. Just something to knock her out.”

Elijah saw the young woman lying on the pile of nets in the shade of the canopy they’d rigged. She looked like she was sleeping.

Irv walked up to Benny and stuck his chin up toward the Malay. “Was that necessary?”

Elijah put his hand on the old man’s arm. “Irv,” he said. “Enough.”

“Yeah, it was,” Benny said. “She got one of the men here with some kind of poison spray. He still can’t see. They’re going to take him to the hospital, so we’ll be a man down.”

One of the crew was helping the injured man into the pirogue that had brought them out.

Elijah pulled his bolo tie off and began to unbutton his shirt. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe on the filthy fishing boat and the pirogue was his tie to the far shore. “That’s our boat,” he said, pointing at the pirogue. “How are we going to get back ashore?”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be back.”

The young woman on the nets moved her bare legs and groaned. She was only wearing shorts and a white tank top and her skin looked tan and firm. Although Caucasian women usually did not interest him, Elijah decided he was going to enjoy this. He took off his shirt, folded it, and placed it on top of a fuel drum.

“Get a bucket of water,” he said. “Wake her.”

As the pirogue pulled away and headed back up the estuary, Benny took a white plastic bucket attached to a rope and dropped it over the side. He retrieved the full bucket and threw the water at the woman.

The response was immediate. She sat up gasping for air, her hair dripping around her face, her white shirt turned semitransparent. She glowered at Benny.

“Our common friend here sold you something,” Elijah said, “and we need it back.”

She swung her head to look at him. “Who are you?” she said.

“You don’t ask questions here.” He turned to Benny, making sure that the woman and the fishermen would be able to get a good look at the dragon on his back. “Again.”

Benny refilled the bucket and threw the water on her. She pushed to her feet and lunged at him. Elijah pulled his boot knife, grabbed her by her dripping hair, and yanked her head back. Her eyes widened when she saw the knife.

“Hawkes! Stop!” Irv yelled.

Benny backhanded the old man, then said something to the Indonesian crew.

“I would advise you to cooperate,” Elijah said, his face inches away from hers. He looked for fear in her eyes, but saw only defiance. He let go of her hair and shoved her down and she fell back half on the nets, her bare legs splayed across the wood deck.

At Benny’s direction, the Indonesian fishermen dragged Irv over to a fuel drum, picked him up, and sat him on top. Benny reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. One of the fishermen pointed to the drums and shook his head. He said a word that sounded like
benzine
. The Malay put the cigarettes away.

“I understand you had help when you evaded my friend Benny there back in Bangkok.”

She looked away.

“Who do you work for?”

She didn’t answer.

He threw the knife and it stuck into the wood deck a fraction of an inch from her bare foot.

Irv yelled, “Hawkes, enough!”

She lurched forward for the knife, but Elijah grabbed her wrist before she got it. He twisted her arm and she winced, but she didn’t make a sound.

“You will tell me. You’ll tell me who your friend is and how to find him.”

Her head was turned away from him, her wet hair hanging down, now hiding her face.

“Look at me!”

“Go to hell,” she said.

“You don’t want to make me angry.”

She swung her head around to face him, her wet hair flying out of her face, and stared at him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.” He turned to Benny and nodded toward the girl.

The girl was still glaring at Elijah so she didn’t see him coming. In seconds Benny had flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her, holding her arms behind her back.

“Get her up.” The sun shone on Elijah’s back and he reveled in the burning, tingling sensation. He stretched his shoulders back and rotated his head until he heard his neck crack.

Benny dragged the girl to her feet. She struggled and the Malay yanked her arms higher, causing her to arch her back, thrusting her breasts forward. Elijah could see the outline of a white bra through the wet fabric of her shirt and the twin dark shadows of her nipples. He stepped closer and pressed the tip of his razor-sharp knife to her chin. He saw a droplet of blood appear on her skin. He pressed harder and the bubble grew.

“I want my property back.”

She stopped struggling and stared at him with those fearless eyes.

“And I want to know who else knows about this. We know you bought it from the old man,” he said, and he removed the knife from
her chin. The blood ran down her chin, dripped into the crevice between her breasts, and disappeared inside her shirt.

“Where’s my boat?”

“I told you not to ask questions.”

He laid the knife flat against the bare skin of her shoulder and slid it under the straps of her tank top and bra. The skin on top of her shoulder was mottled with scar tissue. “And if you don’t tell me where it is, you’re going to have some new scars to add to your collection.” He turned the knife and pulled and slit through the straps. The front of her shirt fell forward, exposing her breast almost to the nipple.

Elijah heard noise. He blinked and turned his head.

Irv yelled, “Hawkes! Put me on her boat. I’ll find it.”

“Shut up!” Elijah yelled. The old man was spoiling his concentration.

He laid the knife flat and slid it under the other strap. He would make her fear him. “After I am finished with you, no one who knew you before will be able to recognize you.” He slit the other straps. When the other half of her shirt fell open, he saw a little more of the red line the blood had traced between her breasts. He lifted the knife slowly, his eyes locked on hers as he prepared to follow the trail of blood with his knife and slice open the front of her shirt.