The big guard rolled over, pinning Rex to the ground. Rex flipped the man over his head, scrambled to his feet, pulled a device out of his pocket and touched the man with it before he could move.
The guard jerked and lay still, his eyes wide.
Rex removed the spare magazines from the man’s vest, flipped him over and secured his wrists behind his back.
Vaughan was on his feet and running for the door leading deeper into the yacht’s interior.
“Rex,” Kimo called out. “Get Vaughan before he escapes.”
Rex shook his head. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not safe.”
“I’ll never be safe if he gets away.”
Rex hesitated a moment. Then he grabbed the guard’s weapon, loaded it with a fresh magazine and handed it to Kimo. He dropped the remaining magazine on the carpet next to her. “If anyone comes through that door that you don’t recognize, shoot him.”
“Be careful,” she called after him as she lifted the gun and aimed it at the entrance.
* * *
Rex burst through the door into a hallway that stretched the length of the yacht. The door at the end was larger and had more gold embellishments than the others. Though he was positive Vaughan would be in that end suite, Rex checked the doors along the way, opening them one at a time, clearing each room along the way until he came to a stop in front of the most ornate door on the boat.
All he could think was big door, big ego, little penis.
He stood a little to one side as he reached for the handle. When he twisted it, shots rang out. Bullets pierced the wooden door inches away from Rex’s shoulder.
Rex pressed his back to the wall until the shooting ceased. Then he jumped in front of the door and slammed it with his heel as hard as he could. As quickly as he’d jumped in front of the door, he plastered his back to the wall again.
More bullets shredded the wood paneling and the gold embellishments. When the firing ceased a second time, Rex waited a second, listening. The creak of hinges made him move in front of the door again. This time, when he kicked the door, it crashed inward. A window on the far side of the room stood open. Vaughan was nowhere to be seen.
Rex ran for the window, glad it was long and wide enough for him to squeeze his body through the opening. It emptied onto the deck on the vessel's side, leading toward the bow. Rex followed the sound of footsteps on metal stairs.
He looked up a stairwell in time to see Vaughan reach the deck with the helipad.
The slow, whomping sound of rotors spinning filled the air, along with the roar of the engine.
Rex’s fists clenched.
No. No. No.
Vaughan absolutely could not get away. Kimo’s life depended on his capture and indictment.
Rex took the steps two at a time. As he arrived at the top, the chopper blades whipped wind in his face.
Ducking low beneath the whirling blades, Lucien Vaughan climbed into the aircraft.
With only one chance to stop the man, Rex raced forward and flung himself into the chopper, knocking Vaughan flat on his face.
The helicopter started to rise.
Vaughan kicked at Rex in an attempt to get him out. With no intention of staying, Rex slid backward and snagged Vaughan’s ankle. When his feet hit the ground, Rex held on, letting the helicopter pull away from the man.
Vaughan dropped onto the helipad, landing hard. He lay so still, he must have been knocked out.
When Rex went to flip him onto his back, Vaughan rolled over and pointed a gun at Rex’s chest. “Get up very slowly,” he said. “No sudden moves or my finger slips and boom! Your father gets to bury his only son.”
“You’re done, Vaughan.” Rex straightened. “Your kidnapping, abusing and trafficking days are over.”
“You really have no idea who I am,” Vaughan said as he rose carefully and stood facing Rex, the gun still pointed at his chest. “If you turn me in to the authorities, I’ll be free within hours.”
