She could see through the big windows and in the glow of theBlackGold’s exterior lights that a fishing boat had indeed tied up to the back of the yacht. But that’s not what had her kissing carpet. Hell no. What had her kissing carpet was the five dark-skinned men who were standing at the fishing boat’s railing pointing weapons straight at Leo and his guys. For their part, the SEALs were locked and loaded, aiming their M4s right back in a good ol’ fashioned high-seas standoff.
She lifted her chin, trying to see where everyone else was, and got a glimpse of Maddy and the crew of theBlackGoldstanding stock-still and slightly off to the side. Their hands were raised in the air. And the deckhand, Nigel, appeared to be holding two quarts of oil.
Whattheever-loving fuckety fuck? How? Why? Who?
She hadn’t a clue. Figured whatever the hell was going on, whoever the hell these new guys were, it was simply the olive atop the shit sandwich that was this day.
She glanced at the occasional table where she’d laid the AK-47 and crawled over to it, the carpet beneath her smelling so strongly of deodorizer that her eyes watered. Carefully slipping the weapon onto the floor, she checked the clip, found it half full, and gently reinserted it, wincing when it clicked into place with a loudsnick. Then she was belly crawling toward the door that led out onto the main deck.
Fear was a hot fist squeezing her heart. Guilt was a rough stone sitting in the pit of her stomach. Leo was out there. Brave, beautiful Leo. The man she loved. And there was a rifle aimed at his head. It was unthinkable. Untenable. She would never forgive herself if—
She cut off her own thoughts as she slowly, cautiously slid open the door. A night breeze blew into the main cabin. It ruffled her damp hair and slipped under the lapels of the robe, bringing with it the smell of fish and sea. And the sound of a man’s voice…
“Give us the case with the chemicals,” he said, his accent so slight it was hard to tell exactly where he was from. Certainly not Miami, though the brief glimpse she’d gotten of his attire would say otherwise.
“No!” Leo yelled in return. She held her breath and scooted over the threshold, standing slowly, careful to keep herself concealed behind the wall of the living quarters. Night had fallen over the Straits of Florida. Only a dim line of sunshine kissed the sea along the western horizon, limning the sky in an eerie orangey-red. Silver stars were beginning to punch through the darkness overhead. And since the waves had died down, the glassy water reflected the pinpoints of light until it looked like there were two skies. She noted all of this in passing as she skirted around the side of the main cabin and carefully took the port-side stairs down to the lower deck. She crept forward slowly, turkey-peeking around the edge of the living quarters twice to get her bearings.
“Give us the chemicals!” the stranger shouted again, his voice carrying out over the dark water.
“Fuck you!” Leo barked.
“I believe you are the one who is fucked!” The stranger snorted a laugh. “We have you outgunned.”
And that’s when Olivia made her move. She stepped from around the corner, the AK-47 raised to her shoulder, a head wearing a floppy hat smack-dab in the crosshairs of her sights. “Count again!” she yelled.
* * *
7:26 p.m.…
At the sound of Olivia’s voice, Leo briefly closed his eyes and managed, just barely, to stifle a pained groan.
Brave, fearless,idioticwoman! Why can’t she just stay put?Oh, right. Because she’s brave and fearless.Shitonashovel.
The group of men glanced at her from the corners of their eyes, but they didn’t stop aiming at Leo and his friends in order to center her in their sights. He took comfort in that.That’s right, assholes. Just keep pointin’ those sawguns right here.
“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” the asshole in the ridiculous T-shirt and floppy hat called. It had been clear from the get-go he was the ringleader. He’d been the one to convey orders the whole time the fishing boat was throwing over bumpers and tying up to theBlackGold. Leo and the SEALs had remained leaning against the bulkhead of the main living quarters, their M4s carefully concealed behind their backs—you know, just in case—as the yacht’s crew helped tie off ropes and started handing over quarts of oil.
Andthat’swhen things went to hell in a handbasket. Because just as Nigel the Deckhand was poised to toss over a couple more plastic bottles of Pennzoil Marine Motor Oil, Floppy Hat drew down on him. And then it was a case ofwhocanarmthemselvesthequickest? For the record, it was a draw. Which is why they were now in the middle of aWildWildWest-style showdown.
“Did you hear me?” Floppy Hat called. “I said we don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Yeah, right.Leo barely refrained from snorting. Over the years, he’d looked into the eyes of enough radicals to recognize a killing gleam when he saw one. And these boys? Well, they wore those familiar gleams in spades. Chemicals or no chemicals, they planned to kill everyone on board theBlackGoldthe first chance they got.
“We just want the case,” Floppy Hat insisted.
“You’re too late,” Leo growled, biding his time and channeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins until all his senses were heightened. Floppy Hat’s face was crystal clear. The sound of the boats rocking against each other with a gentlethunk, thunkwas amplified, and the smell of outboard engine fuel and silver polish hung heavy in the air. “The chems are already gone.”
Floppy Hat’s eyes narrowed. “You lie.”
Leo lifted one shoulder, sensing Olivia behind him as if there were an invisible cord attaching him to her, tugging at his heart. Hewishedshe’d just stayed inside. This situation was a powder keg waiting to gokaboom, and he wanted her hell and gone when it did.
“I don’t make a habit of it,” he said.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Bran adjusting his stance, slowly slipping one foot back, twisting his body just slightly. It was a posture Leo knew all too well. The one his best friend assumed when he needed to take out multiple targets in quick order.
Right. So that’s the plan.
He, Wolf, and Mason would each pop off one guy—the one who was directly across from them. And Bran, Mr. Crack Shot, would pop off the two who were directly across from him. Now, they just had to time their shots at precisely the same moment, taking the whole group by surprise.
