“So…you notice young women now, do you, Benjamin? I think we need to have a serious—Are you walking away from me?”
Ben stomped back to the boat, and because he was feeling so pissed off, he climbed in and took it. Bugger Nikolas. Let him walk on bloody water if he was so bloody perfect. He did feel a bit guilty though, and tried to remember if Nik was wearing a swimsuit under his shorts. Probably. Fuck him.
He motored back to the hut, thinking about packing, tied up and jumped onto the deck. He went from the brilliant sunshine to the gloom, and it was only then, as his eyes adjusted, he saw a man standing by their dresser, flicking through their passports. He turned and found a gun pointed at his chest by a second man who’d been waiting around the far side of the deck. “Mr Rider?”
Ben turned to the man inside the hut. “What’s this? Who’re you?”
The man held out a wallet with a badge inside. “Commander De Jesus. Coast Guard.”
“Coast Guard. Seriously?”
“You find that funny, Mr Rider?” Ben didn’t attempt to explain his relief at discovering they weren’t Danish detectives.
“No, I’m sorry. So, what can I help you with?” He was assessing the man standing behind him. He didn’t know anything about the Philippines Coast Guard, but he was surprised they were issued with M14 rifles.
“Can you tell me, Mr Rider, what you were doing this morning between the hours of ninea.m. and elevena.m. local time?”
“Yes, I went diving with a friend.”
“Where?”
“Just exploring the lagoon.”
“Did you go into the water beyond the fall?”
“No, we stayed in the lagoon, why?”
“Did you find anything and remove anything from the sea floor?”
“No.”
“So…” The commander delved into his pocket and pulled out some photographs. “This isn’t you?” Ben took the photos. They were taken with a telephoto lens from the headland, and they clearly showed him and Nikolas motoring across the lagoon with the case, very shiny and visible, in the boat.
“Mr Rider, you’re under—”
“What the fuck…!” Ben swung around as he heard Nikolas’s expletive—as did the man with the rifle. Nikolas rose sleek and furious from the water. He’d stripped to his swimsuit and swum to the hut. Ben returned the furious look Nikolas gave him with an “I told you so”glare and added audibly, so there was no mistake, “What the fuck does it look like?” He handed him the photos.
Nikolas shrugged. “May I see some identification?” He took his time checking the badge, not giving any indication whether he believed it or not. “We found a case. We couldn’t open it. We put it somewhere for safety, and have this morning informed the authorities what we found. Where’s the problem here?”
“You’re both under arrest for smuggling.” De Jesus approached Ben with a set of handcuffs.
Nikolas frowned. “No, that’s not going to happen.” He made to approach the commander, but suddenly Ben snapped.
“No!” He launched a decisive and unexpected attack, seizing Nikolas by the waist and propelling him back to the bed. They struggled for a moment, Nikolas completely blindsided and undone by Ben’s actions. Ben felt something slam into his shoulder. He grunted and sagged onto Nikolas, and before they knew it, they were handcuffed together, and the man who’d hit Ben was bringing his rifle butt up for another blow. The commander put his hand on his subordinate’s arm and shook his head. “Call the boat.” Then he put a hand to a shoulder holster to indicate he was more than willing to draw and use his own gun if necessary.
Nikolas yanked his handcuffed arm as far away from Ben as possible, which was a rather redundant move as it only brought Ben’s arm along with it, and spat in Danish, “You stupid fucking moron.”
Ben stared back at him and replied in the same language, “Seriously? You were going to risk another injury? Another blow to the head over some gold you don’t even need or want? And prison? In the Philippines? Have you seenMidnight Express? You spend more on suits in a year than that gold is worth.”
“Stop exaggerating.” Nik hung his head, pouting. “And that was Turkey.”
“You’re the fucking idiot, Nikolas. You know what all this is, don’t you?”
“I have the very distinct idea you’re going to tell me.”
“It’s because you’re bored. You stir things up wherever you go just for the fun of it. We’re like your playthings—the fucking playthings of a bored god.”
“Stop swearing at me.” Nikolas smiled privately. “But you can call me a god if it pleases you.”
