Hank finds it knotted to a lower railing just off the bow. He grins, pulling a switchblade from the front pocket of his shorts.
“I have you now!” The knife opens with a click.
Jackson hears Hank’s voice but is unable to see where the man has gone or what he’s up to. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Jackson takes a deep breath as Hank puts his knife to the polypropylene twines. Just as Hank begins to saw at the thick rope, Jackson lets go, pushing off the fiberglass side of the boat. Jackson paddles with every last ounce of energy his adrenaline-pumping muscles can conjure up.
Jackson thinks of Alice. The day they had met on a flight from Paris back to the States. She sat next to him against the window. Her smile had captivated him. Jackson wonders where their relationship might be headed, and as he struggles to survive, he hopes he gets another chance to see that wonderful smile Alice produces so effortlessly. He thinks that if he lives through this, he will find Alice and give her his heart.
Jackson’s hands slide across the wet aluminum step. His body slams hard, sending shooting pains out from his busted ribs. He’s made it to the ladder. Out of breath, but he’s made it.
Hank hacks at the fibers with little success. A few strands have frayed, just like his plans. He thinks about how easy he had said this would be as he runs the blade back and forth, over and over.
Two days earlier Hank had found himself in a world of trouble, fearing death or prison. Neither of those seemed acceptable to Hank. He had planned the perfect robbery with the son of an old friend. A million and a half dollars from a local bank was the score, but something went wrong. The cops were on his trail now. He was caught on tape carrying the loot from the vault. The idiot boy had failed to tell Hank about the camera inside the safe. This small bit of misinformation placed him on the wanted list and he needed a way out.
Jackson has a clear view of Hank cutting at the rope that once acted as his lifeline. Hank curses at the strands as the blade slides across the tough fibers. Seeing his chance, Jackson pulls himself aboard the boat. , Hoping not to be seen, Jackson nervously and quickly makes his way on tiptoes across the yacht into the cabin below the deck. Hank spins on the balls of his feet just as the cabin door closes behind Jackson. Something moved.
Hank stares across the empty deck of the yacht looking to assure himself he is alone. After he is fully confident that he is solitary above the salt water, Hank returns to cutting at the tattered filament of rope knotted to the ship.
Hank had been a good cellmate to Melvin Sharp while serving a seven-year stretch for armed robbery in the Texas state prison in Huntsville. Melvin passed away in the pokey and had asked Hank to promise he would find his son as soon as he was released. At the time, he hadn’t known his cellmate’s boy was a bank manager. Nor could he have guessed that the son was just as willing to break the law for dough as his old man had been.
Jackson feels pain in his side with every breath he takes. He searches the dark for a way to call for help. Jackson remembers the salesman saying the boat was equipped with a state of the art satellite radio as well as a fancy water purifier. At the moment, Jackson would drink pond scum if it meant he could radio for help.
Hank had kept his word and found Melvin Sharp’s son. The young man was taller than Hank had expected and much better educated. The boy’s name was Thomas, but he preferred Tommy. Hank told the younger Sharp about the last few years of his old man’s life. Stories about the long days playing poker, “Sometimes we’d play Texas Hold’em, but mostly we played five card stud.” Hank spent hours telling Tommy tales about how his old man had become the closest friend he’d ever had.
Without any luck in finding a way to call for help, Jackson begins to rummage around for a means of protection. His movements aretimid; he fears being heard. In the dark, Jackson bangs his knee hard against what he believes to be a table. He mumbles under his breathe that he is an idiot. Why could he not recall the layout of the boat he’d toured only a few weeks ago?
Hank discovers that the rope no longer has anyone attached. Just as he begins to laugh thinking the poor rich guy had fallen into the sea, a thud sounds from somewhere on the craft.
Tommy had listened to Hank wide-eyed. The stories of his father were interesting, but the ones about Hank’s past crimes intrigued him more. Tommy Sharp had gone to a good school, studied hard, and gotten an above-average job with great pay and benefits, but he hated the grind. Hank was the instrument Tommy would use to orchestrate his escape.
Jackson’s knees shake and his lips quiver. He stands frozen in fear thinking he must have been heard.
Hank scans the deck of the yacht for the source of the sound. He walks the length of the ship contemplating the odds that the lanky rich kid could have somehow found his way back on board. Unlikely as hell, he decides.
Tommy had offered the freshly-released Hank a place to stay and they became fast friends. Hank even began to like the young man. Tommy reminded him of his old roommate in more ways than just the blue of his eyes. The son seemed to have the same criminal instincts as his old man.
It wasn’t long before Tommy felt he could trust Hank with his plan. He told his father’s friend about the money that was kept in the bank’s safe and how he could open it. He explained to Hank how to avoid the surveillance cameras while taking the money. The plan was that Hank would come into the bank early before they got too busy, and Tommy would give him the money. Then Hank would hit Tommy hard enough to leave a good knot on his head. Tommy would wake up and claim the bank had been robbed. Finally, the two would get on a flight to a nice island with no extradition rights. Simple, or so it had seemed before Hank found himself on the most wanted list.
Hank stares over the railing of the ship into the dark water of the gulf. He comes to the conclusion that Jackson’s strength had given out, and he’d gone down to his watery grave.
Jackson finds something heavy that feels like it could be a block of wood. He holds it in his hands, imagining bringing it crashing down onto Hank’s big round head. Jackson practice swings the chunk of whatever down a few times from above his head. This will have to do.
Tommy had revealed all the camera locations but the one in the safe. He left that one out intentionally.. The image of Hank smacking Tommy on the head made Tommy’s involvement as unlikely as an elephant in flight. Once the pictures of Hank were shown on all the news channels, a new plan had to be formed. Tommy Sharp had anticipated this and he had already devised a means of escape for his partner and himself. They would steal his buddy’s brand new boat, sail it to some South American country, and split the dough. From there, they would go their separate ways as rich men.
Hank could see land coming up quickly. He lowers the sails and starts the motor. Jackson falls back as he feels the ship slow. Are we stopping? he wonders. Hank guides the yacht to a small pier. Carefully he ties the boat off to a pylon at the end of the wooden structure.
Tommy had waited for two hours in his BMW on the sandy shore just to the right of the old wooden pier. When he saw the yacht approaching, he grabbed a pistol from his glove box and two heavy bags of cash from the trunk of his car.
Hank laughs as he watches Tommy lugging the large bags down the pier toward him.
“You gonna help asshole or just stand there like a prick?”
“You look like you’ve got it under control,” Hank laughs again and his muscles jiggle.
Jackson hears another voice. He considers the situation and decides to risk taking a peek hoping Hank is distracted. Slowly he cracks the door leading to the deck of the ship. “Here…toss it up here,” Hank bends over the railing to grab one of the bags from Tommy.
Jackson sees the top half of the stocky man bend down and figures it’s now or never. He bursts from the hull with a wooden chopping block raised above his head. Hank turns just in time to catch the corner of the block right on the temple. He stumbles
back as blood slowly trickles across his cheek. Mouth hung open, he falls in a lump of dead flesh onto the deck.
Tommy had been looking down at the bags when Jackson cracked Hank’s skull. Tommy looks up just in time to see Jackson’s chest heaving up and down, taking in deep breaths. He stands over Hank’s body holding a wooden block above his head. Blood drips from the tan wood.
Tommy fumbles for his gun. Jackson sees Tommy reaching for something and throws the block in defense. The heavy wooden chopping block hits Tommy in the arm sending a shooting pain that causes a delay in retrieving his weapon. Jackson darts across the yacht away from his betrayer and dives into the water opposite the pier.
Splashing into the cold saltwater, Jackson swims under the wooden planks that form the rickety dock. Tommy climbs aboard the yacht and finds Hank lying lifeless beside the heavy bag of cash. He takes the sack and exits the craft. Tommy wishes he’d learned how to sail.
Jackson hears Tommy dragging the bags across the wood toward the sandy beach. He swims to the shore using the pillars of the pier as cover.
“Jackson, it’s not what you think. He was supposed to take off before you got to the docks this morning. I swear I had nothing to do with any harm Hank has caused you. I figured you had insurance, and I