The boat with the tracking device was headed for the deserted island of Kahoolawe, a former military bombing range, not an island reserve revered by the native Hawaiians. What normally would have taken the little boat twenty to thirty minutes to get to Kanapou Bay, where it appeared to be heading, was taking it forty minutes or more.
Rex hoped that with his many hours of experience driving his own boat, the old Coastie would get them there in half that time. He hoped Vaughan didn’t get trigger-happy and dispose of the witnesses before the Brotherhood Protectors could get there and keep it from happening.
By the time they came within range of the bay, the waves were heavier, making it harder to hold onto the RHIB. The team doubled up on the DPVs, Rex being the only one with his own. He also took the tactical boarding ladder kit. Taking point, he would climb aboard near the rear, take out any security guards watching over the low, rear deck and drop a ladder in for the others to climb aboard.
As soon as he was ready, he dropped into the water, fired up the DPV and followed the coast of the little island close to the surface until he could see into the bay where the Dancing Lolita lay anchored. For a moment, he studied the yacht.
The crane moved slowly, reaching out over the side of the yacht where the La Petite Lolita waited to be hoisted aboard.
If they hurried, they could board the yacht before they finished loading the spare boat.
Rex glanced back at his team, which wasn’t too far behind him. With two men per DPV, they met more resistance and thus moved more slowly.
That worked for him. It would take time for him to scale the side of the ship on the rope ladder, neutralize resistance and prepare the deck for the team’s ascension.
Technically, it was daytime, but the thick, dark clouds blocked the sun, making the day dusky.
Rex powered toward the opposite side of the boat from where all the action was taking place with the loading of the smaller boat.
Once there, he pulled out the grappling hook with the thin rope ladder attached, studied the rim of the lowest level, aimed and fired. The grappling hook landed on the deck on the other side of the rail. Rex took up the slack until the hook seated firmly against the rail. He patted the pocket with the little sports camera keeping the SD card dry. I he had to save Kimo’s life, he’d trade the card and his soul to keep her safe. He’d made a copy on his spare laptop while at the cottage. If he had to trade the disk in his pocket, all wasn’t lost.
He tied his heavy scuba gear to the bottom of the ladder and started up, carefully placing his feet on the metal rungs as the boat rocked. Each movement made him swing back and forth. Slowly, he moved up the side of the boat until he could peer over the rail.
No one moved on this side. He glanced up but couldn’t see anyone looking down from levels above. Rex pulled himself up and over the rail, dropping low on the deck. Staying close to the walls and ducking below windows, he made his way to the back of the vessel, where he’d spied at least one man standing guard, holding a rifle.
As Rex approached the man, he saw him stiffen and lean toward the edge to stare down into the water.
Pulling the stun gun from his utility belt, he crept up to the guard.
When he was three feet from his target, the man turned.
“Sorry, bro,” Rex said and tapped him with the stun gun. The guy dropped with little more than a squeak. Knowing the effects wouldn’t last long, Rex dragged the guy under the overhang, pulled duct tape from the pocket of his wetsuit, tore off a piece and stretched it across the man’s mouth. He flipped the guy onto his belly and secured his wrists with a zip tie, then applied another to his ankles.
He moved quickly and efficiently, securing the man in less than a minute. Then he hurried back to the edge of the dive platform and dropped the metal ladder into the water.
One by one, his team climbed aboard.
Rex helped them out of the gear, stowing it safely beneath the overhang, out of view of any casual observers or security personnel.
When they were ready, they moved out.
Hawk would take the bulk of the team up one deck at a time.
Angel and Rex would go up to the deck with the white leather lounge. Vaughan would be on that one or one nearby. They would have brought Kimo aboard and presented her to the man who decided the fates of young women he kidnapped, purchased and sold.
Rex refused to let Kimo be one of Vaughan’s conquests.
Chapter 15
Kimo awoke, lying on a soft white carpet in a brightly lit room full of white leather couches and shiny gold accent tables and wall hangings.
“Come on, come on. Wake up already,” an impatient voice sounded. “You’ve caused me enough trouble.
A black, booted foot, incongruous to the stark white furnishings surrounding her, pushed against her side, rolling her onto her back.
A man with thick, salt-and-pepper hair stared down at her, a sneer pulling his lip up on one side.
“Good. I want you to be awake when I bring your friend out. You need to understand and appreciate what happens to those people who cross me.”
