Declan froze, and it was quite satisfying to hear the hiss of fear.
Grant swore and reached behind his back.
“Move and he’s dead.” Sam kept his voice low in case Murray could hear outside.
“You won’t kill him.”
“Are you willing to bet on that?” Both men had put Penelope in danger, and Sam wasn’t feeling very forgiving right now.
“Don’t, Grant,” Declan said.
Good. At least one person realised how serious he was. He shifted and kicked out his feet to snap the ties. “Get up.”
He didn’t loosen his hold on Declan as they both climbed to their feet.
“Slowly place the gun on the table and step back,” he told Grant.
Three against one weren’t the worst odds he’d ever had.
Grant did as he asked, placing the gun on the table and stepping back towards the door.
Sam patted down Declan, hoping to find a gun, but he had nothing. There were cable ties across the room though. “Grab the cable ties and tie your feet, then your hands together.”
Grant moved slowly, taking the cable ties and bending.
The boat slowed, the sudden change in speed enough to make Sam stumble. Declan reacted, grabbing Sam’s hands and forcing them down, twisting his neck so Sam no longer had access to his throat.
The man had training.
Sam swept Declan’s legs out from under him and lunged for the gun on the table, but he was too slow.
Grant raised it and pointed it at him. “Don’t move.”
Fuck. He clenched his hands as Declan climbed to his feet.
“We need to dispose of him,” Declan said. “He’s going to cause us too much trouble alive.”
Not words he wanted to hear, but as long as they didn’t shoot him in the head, he had a chance. A lamp over by the door looked heavy. If it wasn’t bolted to the table, it would make a good weapon.
Declan backed up, so he was next to Grant. “Keep the gun on him. Let’s get him out on deck.”
Grant nodded. “You heard the man. Move.”
“So Declan’s in charge, is he?” Sam asked as he calculated the distance between him and Grant. How quickly could he cross it and how fast could Grant shoot?
Grant’s finger was on the trigger, so Sam didn’t like his odds.
Grant grunted and waved his gun. Declan had already left the cabin.
Sam moved closer, but Grant gave him a wide berth, stepping away from the door so Sam wouldn’t come anywhere near him.
Sam inhaled the salty air, assessing everything he went past. Round orange life preserver attached to the wall, but aside from that, the walls were bare and so was most of the deck.
But there was a potential escape if he could get to it.
Two BCDs attached to oxygen tanks leaned up against the stern of the boat. Murray and Grant must have been scuba diving before Declan had called them.
Beyond the light of the boat, all was dark. He stepped further away, towards the scuba gear, to let his eyes adjust. If those specks of light in the distance were the mainland, then he had to be about a kilometre offshore. The gulf wasn’t too deep, only twenty metres or so and a short swim to shore. If he could get to the tank, he could lose them while he swam underwater.
