“Girls, one of you needs to get on the radio and call for help!” Cap ordered as he struggled with Jonathan.
“That won’t be necessary,” a gravelly, deep voice replied.
The man’s accent was thick and Colombian.
Both he and Jonathan stilled.
Unease snaked up his spine, and he knew before he looked what he’d see.
A tall, dark-complexioned man with pitch-black hair and a mustache stared down at him. He wore a black T-shirt and pants. His build was muscular, and he would probably be a challenge to fight. The bigger issue was the semi-automatic weapon tucked into his waistband.
“Get up!”
Cap and Jonathan rose slowly.
A second man jumped from their speedboat onto his vessel.
“We just want the bag.”
Jonathan’s body went limp, and he collapsed onto the deck.
Coward.
Not one person made a move to see if he was alright. The ladies were probably scared and frozen in place.
The man in black zeroed in on him.
“What bag?” Cap asked.
“Don’t fuck with me.”
“It was thrown overboard,” Cap replied.
“That’s what should have happened, but didn’t, so hand it over or else.”
Cap believed the or else would not be good.
The meaning of the Colombian’s words struck Cap. That’s what should have happened, but didn’t. Did the bag have a beacon that was supposed to be activated so they could find it?
“I threw it overboard a long way back. I thought it was just Jonathan’s fishing equipment,” Emma stated in not much more than a whisper.
The woman had more balls than the wimp, who passed out from fear on the deck.
The man made a move to get around him toward Emma.
Cap sidestepped into his path. There was no way in hell he’d let the guy get any closer to Emma.
The Colombian pulled his weapon from his waistband and waved it in Cap’s face.
“She’s telling the truth.”
The guy stood so close to him that his wretched, hot breath washed over his face.
“Where? We need it, and you’re going to take us there.”
A mumbled groan sounded. Cap didn’t want to take his eyes off the guy in front of him, but he wanted to know if it was Jonathan or Preston who hadn’t moved or made a sound since he’d fallen and hit his head.
“Preston. Are you okay?” one of the women asked.
