Riptide (40 page)

A gunshot sliced through the noise. They froze, pressed against the bookcase as it was followed by a succession of short loud retorts.

Both sides
were
on board.

Bright lights circled overhead, and men started dropping from the sky like black spiders shimmying down gossamer-thin spider webs.

“Good or bad?” Bria pointed, hoping the new arrivals were friends of his.

“
Bad!
” Nick grabbed her hand and started running across the room. They raced past ceiling-to-floor bookcases, a long table, and groupings of chairs, ghostly in the shadows. It was as loud as a frat party outside.

Concealed inside the dark room, its tinted windows affording at least some cover, Bria prayed they couldn’t be seen and that the auxiliary generator Nick had mentioned didn’t decide to kick in, illuminating them like goldfish in a bowl.

The doors to the side deck were only about twenty feet away. She saw the lifeboat hanging right
there.
But men ran past it, and Nick put his hand across her chest to hold her until they disappeared around the corner. What did he think she’d do? Run out there and engage them in conversation? The grip on the Bersa was damp from nervous perspiration. Bria reminded herself that she’d been trained well by Marv. She knew how to shoot. How to defend herself. How to survive.

She knew it
academically
. Marv’s relentless lessons were about to be put to the test. Her heartbeat pounded crazy fast. Sweat ran down her temples, and she had that jittery too-much-caffeine feeling as high-octane adrenaline surged through her bloodstream. Something brushed her ankle under the water, and she almost screamed; instead she bit her lip and forced herself to regulate her breathing and get a grip. This was not the time to get spooked, or to give in to fear.

On this deck, the water was barely ankle-deep, a plus after wading up to her armpits down below.

She looked out at the Uzi-wielding men running around like black ants outside. The bastards were between them and the damned lifeboat. So near and yet so far. The chaos outside was getting louder and brighter. Big, brilliant lights strafed the decks. More men scaled the sides of the
Scorpion
as small craft came alongside.

The ship was crawling with men. Lots of men. Through the darkened windows she saw dozens of them inside now, heard their running footsteps on the deck overhead. They all wore dark clothing. How did they know who was on their side, and who was on the other? And how were she, Nick, and Jonah going to get into that damned lifeboat? With this much illumination, and this many men, they’d be exposed for as long as it took to lower the boat all the way down, and then once they were in the water, they’d literally be sitting ducks with anyone looking down able to see them quite clearly.

The bright lights outside bled through the windows, illuminating a wide expanse of shiny wood floor a foot from where she and Nick stood in the shadows.

The cluster of ominous human forms outside melted from eight to four, then two. Then none. Bria held her breath watching Nick for a signal.

He shook his head.

She took shallow breaths, although no one out there could possibly hear them inside.

After several tense moments, Nick yelled, “
Move,
” and gave her a push. Needing no urging, Bria broke into a run, splashing through the cold water, feeling the slip and slide of the wood floor, then the squishy pile of the area rugs beneath her bare feet.

Behind her, Nick yelled unnecessarily, “Go. Go. Go!”

Men shouted, and the pounding of running footsteps on deck was muffled by the closed windows. But the pirates—because, God only knew, that’s what they were—were trading gunshots in a hail of bullets, muzzle flashes, and loud splintering crashes of parts of Nick’s beautiful
Scorpion
being blown to smithereens. Bria’s heart was beating so fast, she felt dizzy.

She reached the doors just as a group of black-garbed men stopped right outside again. Nick grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into deep shadow against the back wall. The Sig he was holding brushed her breast. His bare chest felt hot through the thin wet cotton of her shirt as he held her tightly against him.

“They’re not going to give us time to lower that boat, are they?” Bria whispered, her harsh breathing sounding far too loud to her own ears.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Nick absently rubbed her arm with his free hand. She wasn’t sure he was aware he was doing it, but it helped. “Head to the dive platform. There’s an inflatable life raft there.”

She kept her attention on the men moving about near the lifeboat. “We can’t get there unless they move.”

“Right. Give them a minute.”

They didn’t have a lot of minutes to spare. But then Nick knew that as well as she did. She relaxed in his hold, and concentrated on regulating her breathing. She scanned the deck beyond the windows, measuring how many steps it would take to cross it and get to the ladder down to the dive platform.

Probably thirty feet. But with that many armed men, the obstacle course would be lethal.

The clump of men outside the door broke up, melting into the shadows. But Bria heard the roar of more powerful engines, and the eggbeater sound of a large helicopter overhead. The bright flashing lights strobed onto the wood paneling just feet away from where the stood. She didn’t so much as blink.

Nick kept his arm around her waist as the brilliant light slid slowly across the wall. “
Wait. Wait. Wait
,” he whispered.

Bria’s mouth was so dry she could barely swallow. Her soaking wet clothing clung uncomfortably to her skin, but she still felt the tickle of perspiration between her breasts as she waited for Nick to say the word.

She felt that half-scared, half-excited feeling she’d experienced when she’d run track in high school. Ready. Set. Wait. Wait …

“
Now!
”

Go!

They raced across the library. Bria, a nose ahead, threw out a hand and slammed through the door, letting in a rush of warm night air, a faint acrid smell, and a stronger stink of sweaty male.

It was much, much louder outside. She blocked it out. Run. Run. Run.

Through the door, turn left, run like hell, bare feet slapping against the teak deck, heartbeat knocking hard against her chest. An enormous helicopter, blades whipped to a blur, engines throbbing, lights strafing, hovered low on the starboard side of the ship, half a dozen ropes swaying in the wind the rotors caused. The high-beam white light shining down cast black shadows where they ran close to the wall.

Nick wasn’t letting her slow down. For now, and Bria knew the respite was merely temporary, they were the only ones on the side deck. This was their window of opportunity to get to the dive platform undetected.

Something banged loudly against the side of the
Scorpion
. A
boat
? They stayed where they were. Bria wanted to keep running so badly she could taste it. Things were going from bad to worse, hesitation wasn’t going to get them across the deck, down the ladder, and anywhere
near
that damn life raft. Nick stopped her with the steel band of his forearm across her midriff. Half a dozen men swarmed over the side railing on the far side of the deck. He put a finger to his lips, and pointed up.

God!
Now
what? It took a moment over the other loud noises to hear the altercation breaking out on the sun deck directly overhead. The three men must be standing against the railing, and their rapid-fire Arabic, while low-pitched, carried easily to the deck below.

She had no idea where the men who’d rappelled down from the helicopter were. The group who’d just boarded ran as one, disappearing inside. Not for long when they saw the flooding inside. For this nanosecond there was no one in sight. She started forward. Nick’s arm tightened across her middle.

The unexpected/expected
bang!
of a gunshot seemed to come from inches away, and Bria’s heartbeat responded by charging into overdrive. The loud retort was immediately followed by a scream. A few seconds later, a man’s body came hurtling from above. He landed, with a hideous crunch of bones, on the rail, a few yards in front of them. Half his head was missing.

Bria watched in horror as his broken body hung there for a moment, then slipped overboard, spinning off down to the black water below. A moment later she heard the splash.

Her heart was beating so fast it felt as though a wild animal was trapped inside her. Her body practically vibrated with the need to move. The ladder to the dive platform was only ten feet away. She glanced up at Nick. He shook his head.

The argument seemed to be the signal because a split second later all hell broke loose. Shouts and gunshots from various weapons suddenly drowned out the overhead helicopter. The stealthy movements became loud running footsteps. And everyone seemed to be shooting at everyone else.

“Go!” Nick said urgently.

Bria went.

A few more feet and they’d gain clear access to the ladder down to the dive platform where the small inflatable was stored. There was enough noise and confusion on board that there was a chance, slim as it was, for them to get into the raft undetected.

Bria stopped short. “Keep moving, damn it.” He grabbed her shoulder as the
Scorpion
gave a massive sigh, and the deck tilted dramatically. “Don’t sto— Fuck it!” A small group of black-clad men were dead ahead, guns leveled on them. He tried to maneuver her between his body and the wall.

More men filed in behind them, semiautomatic weapons raised threateningly.

Trapped.

Nick tightened his fingers on her shoulder, grinding out her name in warning as he felt her shift her center of gravity.

“Seven,” she said matter-of-factly in a low voice. “I’ll take the two on the left.”

Like hell she would. He squeezed her shoulder harder, his will more than his strength holding her in place.

“Drop your weapon.”

Nick hesitated. “Do it,” he ordered calmly.

She hesitated, then dropped the Bersa to the teak deck. Nick followed suit.

“You are Cutter?” The strafing lights painted Kadar Gamali Tamiz’s expression black and white as he strode forward. “There are three bins in your hold, Mr. Cutter. The contents belong to me.”

“Well, that’s going to be tricky,” Nick told him mildly. “Since the hold is ass-deep under water.” Where the hell was Jonah? Footsteps thundered overhead, a burst of gunfire cut into the shouted orders, in both Arabic and Italian. The helicopter swooped lower, then lifted in a hard throbbing beat to do a wide circle around the
Scorpion
. Out on the water various boats bobbed against the waves his ship was making as she sank deeper and deeper.

“You are a professional scuba diver,” Tamiz said coldly as Najeeb Qassem closed in from behind himself and Bria. He too had a phalanx of armed men surrounding him. “This should not be a problem for you.”

Nick saw muzzle flashes reflected in the windows, heard the chatter of gunfire all around them as the two factions killed each other off on other parts of his ship.

“True,” he said dryly. “I’ll just suit up.”

“There’s a really nice sunroom one deck up,” Bria offered sweetly. “Why don’t you wait there?”

Ignoring her, Tamiz gave Nick a narrow-eyed look. “How long will it take?”

“To suit up? Five minutes. To dive the hold? ’Bout fifteen. Grab a beer and I’ll get back to you.”

“You don’t even know what you’re looking for, Mr. Cutter. Or do you?”

“Whatever it is, I have no desire to be in the middle of some international incident. Tell me what it is, and where to find it. I’ll bring it to you quickly. I don’t want any of my people hurt.”

Was Tamiz buying this? Nick searched the Moroccan’s features. Not really, but right then Nick was the only game in town.

“You do not need to concern yourself with the contents.” Tamiz handed him a business card with the three bin numbers on the back. “This is what I want.”

Nick raised a brow. “Each bin weighs upwards of a hundred pounds.”

“Then I suggest you work quickly, Mr. Cutter.”

“I suggest,” Nick snapped, “that you fuck yourself, pal.” He lifted Bria clean off her feet. “Brace yourself and roll!”

He threw her over the edge of the deck, then followed her over the rail to drop onto the dive platform below.

Hopefully the men would believe that they’d gone over the side into the water.

The platform was a foot underwater and they landed with a splash. Immediately he rolled to cover Bria’s body with his. She gave a muffled cry, but stayed put, even though she was half submerged and the weight of his body pinned her down. “Okay?” he demanded harshly. Not willing to get off her unless she couldn’t breathe.

“Peachy,” she managed ironically. Nick felt the ragged rise and fall of her chest beneath his as he rolled her tight against the wall near the ladder where it was pitch dark. He shot out a hand and grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder for purchase as the ocean poured over the platform.

“Find them!” The cry was peppered with the ear-shattering ricochet of bullets and men’s screams. Bright lights moved across the water beyond where they lay. Shit. The illumination was close, too damned close.

Bria’s dark hair floated like a mermaid’s, framing her pale face. Nick curved his arm protectively around her head. As if that was going to stop a fucking bullet. Sweat and seawater ran down his face. To reach the locker where the inflatable was kept, he’d have to stand and walk about seven feet. With those lights searching for them, he didn’t dare. “Stay put!”

The froth and churn of white water beyond the platform picked up the high beam. Back and forth. Back and forth. A slow, methodical search. With any luck, the men above would think they’d drowned and eventually give up the search.

Better be fucking soon, Nick thought as he had to brace the back of Bria’s head to keep her face out of the water.

It wouldn’t be long before someone smarter than a monkey realized that there was a dive platform covered with water, just a few feet below where they were gathered.