And so this became a suicide mission.
I drove the Mazda all the way to the marina in time to see a large superyacht leaving beyond the jetty. I looked through my binoculars and saw it was indeed Javier’s, ironically named Beatriz. The sailboat was massive mega-ketch, a 187-foot, 550-ton Royal Huisman. The two masts stuck high into the sky while the navy body glistened above the waves. I couldn’t see any crew on board at all except someone at the controls. That’s how I knew it wasn’t Javier at all. He liked to travel with large crew, complete with their own uniform. He was the king of flaunting everything he had.
This was an undercover operation. Javier may or may not have known about Este taking the boat but in the end it didn’t really matter. Este had and he was heading out to see with his sister.
A part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and tell Javier that Este had her. But aside from the fact that Javier probably wanted me dead and would never believe me, I had no real way of contacting her. I had to do something and I had to do it now. I was the only one who could save her.
I grabbed my bag and made it through the locked marina door with ease, strolling through as if I had a proper key and I wasn’t just good at picking locks. I continued to walk purposefully down the docks until I saw the right boat. I needed something that was fast enough but inconspicuous, like a fishing boat. Mazatlan was such a major fishing town that even the bigshots at the marina kept fishing boats docked there.
I carefully looked around, making sure no one was particularly watching, and jumped down into an 18-foot Double Eagle. This one even had the keys tucked inside the nearest cup-holder.
It purred to life and I brought it out of the marina with ease.
In the distance, Beatriz was disappearing over the horizon line, heading in the direction of San Jose del Cabo and the tip of the Baja.
I kept at my speed, not too slow, not too fast, my eyes on the boat and on the blinking red dot on my app.
I eyed the bag on the chair next to me where the C4 was waiting.
I had a boat to blow up.
I had a woman to save.
I had nothing to lose.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alana
When I woke up, I was sure I woke up in hell. My head felt like it was on fire. It was hot and pained and I could swear I heard the crackling of flames somewhere deep inside my skull. I tried to open my eyes but the pain made me wince and the world seemed to rock back and forth. My head fell back down on the bed.
A bed. I was on a bed somewhere, but where? What happened?
Images floated into my brain like a cloud of powder settling.
Derek. I had fought with Derek. I had left Derek. Derek broke my heart.
His name was really Derek.
My chest pinched at the thought, my stomach twisting painfully. The grief was there, just below the surface, competing for the space in my aching body. I had to give into it, just for a moment, just so I could eventually breathe.
I lay back in the bed, staring at the ceiling above me, waiting for the sorrow to swallow me whole. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know where I was, that my head was a fiery mess and I feared something vital had been knocked out of me, that the tiny room I was in with its wooden plank ceiling kept moving up and down and up and down. None of that mattered.
It trickled in slowly. The betrayal. The hurt. The anger and the pain. It was like acid rain on my soul, eating away at me in small doses. And then the memories of Derek flooded me like a raging river. The way he looked at me, like he’d give up the world to keep me safe, the way he felt when I fell asleep in his arms and the kind words he whispered when I woke up from a nightmare. He had ended up being so much more than I ever thought he would be for me. So much fucking more. He had ended up being my man, the one I wanted to see through to the very end, the one that made letting go of my old life okay because it meant starting a new one with him.
And now he was gone. And I was here. And even though the lies still hurt and the truth was even worse, I believe he had loved me just as I had loved him. And I loved the real him, the one he was hiding from the world but showing only to me. The lie was a half-truth in the end and he was never not the man who became my shield against the world.
I shouldn’t have left. Even though it was painfully, stupidly obvious now, I knew I shouldn’t have left. I was just so hurt and shocked and confused that I couldn’t process it around him. But this wasn’t some silly breakup or a fight you have when you’re tired. It wasn’t a reevaluation of a relationship gone wrong or “time alone to think.” I had treated it all like it happened in my normal, everyday life, not my new life where people were waiting to kill me.
I should have sucked up my pride, swallowed my tears and put that all aside just for the chance to stay alive. Instead I was a total idiot, such a foolish girl, who chose the righteousness of her own heart and feelings over the chance to live another day. This all should have mattered some other time.
Now there was no other time. He was somewhere and I was here, taken by the man that had hired him to kill me, the man that my brother considered his second-in-command. I was taken by someone who wanted to use me, hurt me, abuse me and kill me in order to stick it to Javier where it really hurt.
And now he wasn’t going to play games anymore. I’d already shot him. I’d already stolen the man hired to kill me. I’d already made him look like a fool.
He wasn’t going to take that lightly.
I was in for a world of suffering.
At that thought, I took in a deep breath and tried to bury the fear. The heartache was still there but the fear was growing, taking over. Death was one thing to be afraid of but torture was another. I had no doubt that my death wouldn’t come for a very, very long time.
***
I don’t know how long I stayed in that room but it was about the time I decided I needed to use the washroom that someone came to the door.
There was a polite knock at first and then the door swung open before I could say anything. In the dim light that had been on in the corner of the room, I could see the man’s shadowy figure as he loomed in the doorway.
“You’re awake,” he said. Esteban.
“You’re going to kill me.”
He chuckled and then stepped in the room, closing the door behind him. The fact that he was backlit from behind and I couldn’t see his face properly made it all worse. I didn’t know where he was looking yet I could feel his eyes trailing all over my body, sliding over me like an oily rag. I tried not to shudder.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said, taking a step toward me. He was rolling up his sleeves. “I can see why Derek decided to call the whole thing off.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, ashamed at how meek my voice sounded.
“Because I can,” was his answer. “And not many people can say that.”
It was a small room. If he took another step, he would be at the foot of the bed. I tried to shift backward, as far away from him as I could go but the movement made me want to throw up. It was like being hit by the car all over again.
“You’re supposed to be my brother’s friend,” I said.
He let out a large, belly-aching laugh that seemed to shake the whole room. “Oh, that’s a rich one, hey? Friend? Beautiful, in this business there are no friends only enemies you’re close with. Do you really think Javier is my friend? He’s not. He’s my boss. And I’m his little son of a bitch he bosses around.” His voice dropped off at the end, dripping with bitterness. “I would thought you of all people would know what that’s like.”
I swallowed. “We never really had that kind of relationship.”
“And I guess you never will.”
I frowned at him. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He shrugged casually. “I’m not the sadistic one here. You’re confusing me with your brother.”
“If you’re not sadistic then why am I here?”
He looked around h
im and when he turned his head I caught the feverish glint in his eyes. “Who said there was anything sadistic about this? You’re on a luxury yacht. Javier’s. Have you never been on it before? What a shame. It’s a real beauty. Of course, he doesn’t know I’ve taken it for a little spin but we’ll just leave that between you and me.” He paused. “Did he tell you he named it after your sister Beatriz? Perhaps his next boat he’ll name after you. Something to honor your sorry little memory.”
He took a step closer and as my eyes adjusted I saw a man who didn’t really know what he wanted but was going to try and find out anyway. If there was some part of him that truly believed he wasn’t sadistic, then I had to find that part and work with it. Maybe I could plead with him, change his mind. It seemed to have worked with Derek and I wasn’t even aware of it.
“You really are beautiful,” he said, his voice lower now. “It’s a shame I won’t enjoy this as much as you think I will.”
Before I could say anything, he was on top of me pushing me down into the bed with his weight. I screamed and tried to kick, but my head made everything spin, making me weak and disoriented. His hands went for my jeans, trying to rip them off of me, while I thrashed back and forth.
He put his hand over my mouth and leered at me. I stared up at him in utter terror at what was about to happen. I had been in a similar situation with Derek earlier, only Derek’s eyes were full of love and the promise he would never hurt me.
Esteban’s eyes were full of bitterness and revenge and at that moment I knew he would do whatever he had to in order to expel them.
Somehow he got my jeans off and as I tried to close my legs, he placed his knee between them, keeping them open. I tried to headbutt him but he ducked out of the way, laughing, and his mouth came down on my neck and breasts. His fingers went into my underwear, rough and intrusive and wanting to inflict pain.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said again with a moan as he undid his fly. “I’m going to fuck the beauty right out of you. Make you as ugly as me. Maybe I’ll give you a scar just like mine.” His lips came up to mine and he stared at me, almost hypnotized. I felt my body going into shock, shutting down, and I was so angry at it for not fighting back. Maybe if I just went numb, maybe I wouldn’t feel a thing.
“Such beautiful eyes,” he murmured.
At that, I couldn’t help but grin. Even he looked surprised by it. “I have Javier’s eyes,” I told him. “That explains why you want to fuck me so badly. You’re in love with him. You want him.”
That got his fucking attention. He yanked his fingers away from me and jerked his head back in horror and confusion. “What? You’re sick. Fucking sick to think that. That is not true.”
I kept smiling, loving that I was getting him. “It explains everything,” I said, practically spitting on him. “Why you’re so jealous of him. You want him. You want to fuck me and pretend it’s Javier. Well go on. Get your fucking jollies out. I won’t tell anyone.”
It was a bold move, a brave move. But I had nothing to lose.
It seemed to be working, too. Esteban was beyond indignant.
He straightened up, shaking his head. “You little bitch.”
“It can be our secret.” I flashed him a big smile.
His eyes blazed into an inferno. “Fucking whore!” he screamed. Then he punched me square against my jaw. The world exploded into stars and fuzzy colors and I smelled nothing but blood, felt nothing but pure, pure pain.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled again and there was another blow to my face, just above my left cheekbone.
I choked on my cries. In my head I sounded like a dying animal.
Then another, now at my wrist where it had broken. Then my leg that had been in the cast. Then my ribs and my breasts and every other part of me. Esteban kept hitting and hitting, like he was trying to kill me with his fists.
The last thing I remembered was an electric sound, like something being charged, and a zap of light. My body became paralyzed and for that brief moment there was no pain. There was no everything. I convulsed and shook into a wonderful respite.
Then he removed the taser from my body and the pain came back so strong it was like every bone in me broke at once.
I let out a horrific scream until I couldn’t scream no more.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Derek
I trailed the boat into the night. I was so certain that it would have headed straight for Cabo San Lucas but instead it hooked south where it appeared to stop for the night. Not that there was any place for it to anchor but the speed of the boat had slowed dramatically, I guess to make navigation at night easier. I doubted anyone on board really knew the first thing about sailing, if they did they would reefed the sails and had them half-way down during the night.
I kept looking at the app to track Alana and she hadn’t moved at all from her one spot. I had this sick feeling that she could be dead but I wouldn’t let myself think about that. To think about it would be to back out from the mission. I was getting her off that boat whether she was dead or alive.
I would not, could not fail.
When I got the fishing boat within two football fields of the yacht, I switched off the lights and the engine and just let it bob around. The night was dark, providing me with the advantage. Their lights were on and I could see into the boat perfectly. They couldn’t see me at all.
It turns out there were more people on the boat than I had expected, but it still wasn’t a crew. At the controls in the main cockpit at the very top of the boat, here was a huge guy that had that bulk that could either be strength or laziness. On the next level down, there was a thinner one with an athletic build and two women. One of the women was topless and the other was wearing a bikini. They both appeared to be drugged or coked out of their minds, whores rented for the night. I made a silent prayer for them in my head. They were going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But Esteban and Alana, they were nowhere to be found. Even the cabin downstairs were all dark. I had to ignore that wrench in my gut, the one that wanted me to think about all the sick possibilities.
She’s dead! it shouted. She’s broken and bruised, raped within an inch of her life! She’ll never be that girl again, the one you love, she’s not strong enough.
I had to ignore it. Ignore, ignore.
She was stronger than that.
I was stronger than that.
I was Derek Conway.
And I would save her.
I waited for a few minutes, taking scope of the scene. Then I took of my shirt and strapped the explosives to my chest with duct tape, the putty molding to my skin. This kind would survive getting wet and would be stable until I stuck the detonator inside. The detonator I had to put in a special waterproof pouch, along with the remote trigger device and strap that to me as well.
I slipped the shirt back on, stripped down to my boxer briefs, took off my boots. I didn’t even have a place to put my gun. But guns were so impersonal when it came down to it. If I had the chance to become face to face with Esteban, I wanted to feel his neck breaking between my two hands.
I balanced myself at the edge of the boat, holding the end of the long nylon rope, and swan-dived into the water. I landed with barely a splash and then started doing a fast but silent crawl toward the boat, the end of the rope now held between my teeth. If I wanted Alana to get away, she had to have a boat to take her back home and the Double Eagle would quickly drifted away if it wasn’t tethered.
Though it was the tropics, the water was cold after a few minutes and I felt my muscles cramping up. I pushed through it and kept on swimming until I was in the light froth of the wake. If the ketch had been going any faster, I wouldn’t have been able to catch it.
I reached the small set of stairs at the back and tied the rope around it. Above me was a zodiac, hoisted above the water and ready to be lowered at a moment’s notice but I couldn’t count on that to get away.
After I spent a moment to
catch my breath, I hoisted myself up the rest of the way and ended up on the back part of the boat. There was second cockpit here, complete with couches and tables full of spilled champagne but there was no one around. I waited in the shadows, listening. In the kitchen area on the second flybridge, the party with the hookers was going on. I wanted to go up further than that. I wanted the person at the controls.
Silently I climbed, staying hidden and stealthy until I was at the top level. Turns out one of the women was up here. I could hear from her moans and I peered over a seat, I could see her beside the fat man at the wheel, his dick in her mouth.
Sorry sweetheart, I thought. Party’s over.
I crept up slowly until I was right behind him. They were both so into it that they couldn’t even notice me if I tried. Without standing up, I slipped my hands over the head rest of the chair, hovering for a second on either side of his head. Then I clamped my hands together and twisted quickly until I heard a crack.
The man’s head slumped. I heard a gasp and stood above the woman. She opened her mouth to scream. I drove the edge of my hand into her neck. She was knocked out cold. She would die anyway when the ship blew up but I didn’t want to kill her with my hands if I didn’t have to.
If I had to though, that was a different story.
I was about to leave when I had a second thought and searched the dead man’s pockets. There were no guns on him but there was a giant pocketknife that could come in handy. I gripped it firmly in my hand and then made my way down the side of the boat, slithering down out of sight until I was just outside of the kitchen.
The thin man was doing a line of coke with the other woman. He looked like he was going to be a bit more of a problem. Some men fought like unpredictable animals while high and he looked like the type you didn’t want to underestimate. If the fat man had been the muscle, this was the guy who did Este’s dirty work. This was how it was passed down in the business. When Este thought he’d take over Javier’s position, this guy would take over Esteban’s. Then one day he would betray him in an order to rise to the top and the circle of the cartel life would continue.