Blood Cruise: A Deep Sea Thriller (7 page)

13.

Claxons rang out and Wagner slammed his fist against his desk. He pressed his finger to his ear and switched on his com. He instantly heard the voices of panicked men. Then gunfire and screaming.

“That son of a bitch,” Wagner snarled as he jumped up from his desk and ran to the door of his quarters.

He threw open the door and was immediately greeted by six men, one of them holding out an HK MP7A1 submachine gun. Wagner looked at the weapon and frowned.

“That bad?” he asked the man that handed him the gun.

“Yes, sir,” the man replied. The man pressed his finger to his own ear. “The creature is still contained in the vault, but it sounds like we have multiple casualties. The doctor may be one of them.”

“I can hear the reports,” Wagner snapped. He pointed at two of the men. “You make sure the bridge and engine rooms are locked down. This ship does not stop for any reason.” He pointed at two more. “You also make sure every single hatch is sealed. This thing does not get above decks, understood? If that means we are trapped down here with it then that means we are trapped down here with it.”

“Sir, lockdown is automated,” one of the men said. “You can activate it with your—”

“Did I say for you to argue with me?” Wagner roared at the man. “I know I can activate it! I already have! I want the two of you to verify that all hatches are sealed! With your own two eyes! Do you think I’ve made it this far in this business because I have put my trust in automated systems? GO!”

The two men took off one way while the other two took off another way. Wagner stared hard at the last two men standing before him.

“You two are with me,” he said. “Watch our six. Watch the side passages. Watch the vents. Watch everything. If the creature gets loose on this ship it’s not going to attack head on, but from our blindsides. I do not want to have a blindside, so eyes open!”

“Yes, sir!” the men replied.

“On me,” Wagner ordered as he started running down the passageway to the stairs that led deeper into the ship.

14.

Two things caught Nick’s attention as he stepped out onto the what was normally a sun deck, but had been converted to a helipad by the previous owner: the clouds in the night sky hung heavy and black, and many of the people that stepped off the huge Eurocopter EC 175 had not been invited and were for sure armed.

“Welcome!” Nick called out as the rotors on the chopper powered down. “Thank you all for coming! I know most of you, but for those that I don’t, I’m Nick Sheeran and this is my humble home!”

“Your home?” a tall, skinny woman asked. “You live here? How cute.”

Her voice had a heavy Russian accent that explained the thick blonde hair that framed her sharp angled face. Gorgeous in an off putting way, the woman carried herself like she was used to working hard and being rewarded generously for that hard work.

“Ms. Romanski,” Nick bowed. “It is an honor to have you here.”

“The honor is mine, Mr. Sheeran,” Evgeniya Romanski said. “And I was only playing about this being your home.”

“Maybe it’ll become your home?” Nick grinned.

“Do not push it, Mr. Sheeran,” she replied. “And call me Niya, please.”

“I’m Nick, Niya,” Nick said as he took her hand and kissed it. He turned to the other guests. “Oh, I know these three! Carlos, Jessica, Lane. It is great to see you.”

A short man with dark, pockmarked skin flipped Nick off then laughed.

“I’m only here because of your friend, Nicky,” Carlos Whittier said. “I do not need another yacht.”

“You’re right,” Nick said. “You don’t. But, you do need this yacht. You can get rid of those pieces of crap you have docked in Baja. They are nothing compared to the Lucky Sucker.”

“Horrible name,” Jessica Holstein said.

Short, with close-cut brown hair and fine, delicate features, Jessica was almost the opposite of Niya. She moved with the grace of a dancer, and would have looked completely at ease in any ballet company in the world, except for the long scar that went from one side of her jaw, down across her neck, and back up to the other side of her jaw.

“If I buy this thing, I’ll be changing the name instantly,” Jessica said, giving Nick a quick hug and a kiss on both cheeks. “How does Naughty Nicholas sound?”

“Like I should be honored and insulted at the same time,” Nick chuckled. “Lane!”

“No,” Lane Garfield said and pushed past Nick. “I’m here to play cards and meet Ben Clow. He is here, right Sheeran? This isn’t another one of your bloody bait and switch capers, is it?”

“Dude, one bad condo deal and you still give me shit?” Nick asked, looking offended. “Come on, man, we both know that wasn’t my fault.”

“Wasn’t mine, either, mate,” Lane said. “So there we stand.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I should have researched that Zeus guy better.”

“Zeus? You did business with a guy named Zeus?” Jessica laughed. “You two deserved to get screwed.”

“Bite me, Jessie,” Lane said. Average height with thinning brown hair and bright gold eyes, Lane Garfield spoke with a refined British accent that was obviously an artificial cultivation hiding his obvious working class history. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the man standing behind him. And the armed men behind the man. “Thought you said no bodyguards and no firearms? Grumpy here brought both.”

“Yes, I did say that,” Nick said as he turned to the last of the guests and the man’s entourage. “Mr. Giraldi, I am pleased you could make it. But I am afraid I do not have room for your men here. Perhaps they could return to shore with the helicopter? I’d feel a lot better if they did.”

“No,” Tony Giraldi replied. “Not until they have swept this boat to my satisfaction. I don’t know you, Sheeran, which means I don’t trust you. No offense, but putting my life in the hands of a stranger isn’t exactly how I have become the successful man I am.”

“I do not know him yet I did not arrive with a small army,” Niya said. “I thought the Italians had more balls than this, Giraldi.”

“You want to see my balls, Romanski?” Tony snapped.

“You two know each other,” Nick said cautiously. “Great.”

“We have had dealings,” Niya said. “They have been pleasant in the past. I am sure Giraldi would like to keep our dealings that way.”

“Pleasant dealings?” Tony laughed as he licked his lips. “I guess you can call them that.”

The man was tall and large. Not fat, but certainly heavy and muscular. His accent was a mix of many European countries, but heavier on the Italian side. His black hair was surprisingly long and hung down to his shoulders. The man’s eyes were black pinpricks behind prominent cheekbones and skin that was a healthy tan.

“Mr. Giraldi, I’m not trying to be rude, but when you accepted my invitation you did agree to my terms,” Nick said. “Again, no offense, but I have had one too many run-ins with hired guns. I am going to have to insist that your men return with the helicopter.”

“Tell you what, Sheeran,” Tony said. “You let my guys sweep this boat—”

“It’s a yacht,” Nick muttered.

“—and if they find it’s safe then I’ll send them back with your rented chopper,” Tony continued, ignoring the interruption. “Capisce?”

“Did he really say capisce?” Lane asked. “Christ. What a bloody stereotype.”

“What was that?” Tony asked. “You say something?”

“I said what a bloody stereotype,” Lane replied, his voice loud and abrasive. “Friggin’ Cosa Nostra saying capisce. It’s like a bad Coppola movie.”

“Are there good Coppola movies?” Jessica asked. “I’m not a fan. Never did get the Godfather thing. Thugs and morons in that movie.”

Tony eyed the two then smiled. “You have a problem with the Godfather?”

“She does, mate,” Lane said. “I enjoyed them. Even the third one.”

“Of course you did,” Jessica said, punching Lane on the shoulder.

“Must we?” Niya asked.

“Yeah, come on,” Carlos said as he stood there tapping his four thousand dollar loafers. He nodded his chin skyward. “Gonna get nasty soon and I’m already freezing my butt off. Can we go inside and meet this blogger or what? I’m here to play cards and laugh at Nick as he tries to sell me a yacht.”

“Thank you, Carlos,” Nick said. “And it is a very nice yacht. As you’ll all see.” He turned back to Tony. “Tell you what. Have your guys bring in everyone’s luggage and then they can sweep the yacht. Might as well be useful for something. The second they are done sweeping then they are back on the chopper and out of here. You cool with that, Mr. Giraldi?”

Tony kind of shrugged. “That might work. But I’m trusting my men. Any of them feel like you’re going to pull something and I’m on that chopper with them.”

“That’s cool by me,” Nick said. “I don’t want anyone here that doesn’t want to be here. Now, can we go inside? I want you all to meet Ben and get comfortable. I have an amazing dinner planned, top shelf drinks, and then some quality card playing.”

“I can show them below,” Captain Staggs said. “If you would like, Mr. Sheeran.”

“Thanks, Staggs,” Nick said.

“Will you be playing with us, Mr. Sheeran?” Niya asked.

“No, no, not me,” Nick said. “I’m off the cards. Just think of me as your humble host for the week.”

“Humble,” Lane snorted as he walked past Nick and slapped him on the back. “That is never a word I’d use to describe you, mate.”

“You can say that twice,” Jessica said, following closely behind Lane.

Nick just smiled as everyone filtered in through the hatch that led to the decks below. He stepped out of the way of the large men that trailed Tony, giving them all his best and most welcoming smile. The second they were gone the smile fell away and he turned to look at the thickening cloud bank that grew ever closer. He walked quickly over to the chopper and pulled open the pilot’s door.

“This weather going to be a problem?” he asked.

“Not if I can take off in the next fifteen minutes,” the pilot said. “I can’t get stuck here. I have another job tonight and two tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Great,” Nick said. “I’ll hurry the lugs along and get them back on your chopper before that.”

“I’m not waiting,” the pilot said and pointed to a digital clock on his instrument panel. “Fifteen minutes and I’m gone. No warning.”

“Right, sure, I get it,” Nick said. “Fifteen minutes.”

Nick gave him a thumbs up then shut the door. He hurried to the hatch and yanked it open, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold wind that blew off the water.

15.

Wagner didn’t know what was worse, the deafening bark of automatic gunfire confined to the enclosed passageway or the screams of the men dying. When he rounded a corner and saw what waited for him, he knew his answer.

“Mother of God…” he said as he watched a man get snagged from the passageway and yanked towards the vault.

Towards the vault. Not inside it. The man’s legs caught the edge of the opening, one continuing to go inside while the other bent at an angle it wasn’t supposed to until it ripped from his pelvis with a popping sound that overrode the gunfire. More than a couple of battle-hardened veterans turned and threw up as the man’s leg tumbled across the floor while the rest of him was lost from sight.

The vomit only added to the gore and mess that coated almost every inch of the passageway. Wagner had to swallow a few times to keep his own gorge down and he’d spent a year in the Congo trailing the ravages of one of the area’s most ruthless warlords. The sense memories from that horrid time came rushing back to him and he had to fight to regain his composure.

“Report!” Wagner shouted into the com once he knew he wasn’t going to add his sick to the mess. “Who has eyes on this thing?”

“It is out of its tank, sir!” someone responded.

“No shit!” Wagner yelled. “I guessed that! Give me details, asshead!”

“Fifteen dead! Twenty wounded!” the voice yelled. “Every tech that was working in there is shredded, sir! SHREDDED!”

“Calm the hell down!” Wagner yelled as he pointed for one of his men to get close to the vault and put eyes on the situation.

The man stared at Wagner for a few seconds then took a deep breath and nodded.

“Who is this?” Wagner asked.

“Nunez, sir!” the man on the com replied. “I’m with ten others two decks above! We’re keeping it from crawling up into the rest of the ship!”

“Keeping it? How?” Wagner asked.

The man he’d sent ahead got to the edge of the vault, pointed at four others that were busy firing wildly into the vault to stop, then peeked his head around as fast as possible to get a view of inside the vault. His body slumped to the floor in an instant. The head was no longer attached.

“Sir, you need to pull everyone back!” Nunez yelled. “It’s feeding off the blood and I swear to God it’s getting bigger!”

“Bullshit!” Wagner shouted. “I know this project and rapid growth was not part of it!”

“It is now!” Nunez cried. “Oh, crap! Crap, crap, crap!”

The sound of gunfire filled Wagner’s ear and he cut his com. He yanked a small tablet from his belt and began tapping at it, bringing up the security systems for the ship.

“Why do they have the hatches open?” he snarled. “They shouldn’t have been opened yet.”

He kept tapping and realized he was frozen out of the vault’s controls, including the hatches above it on each deck. He almost threw the tablet against the wall, but tucked it back into his belt instead, checked his MP7, then pointed at the last man with him.

“Stay by my side,” Wagner ordered. “We’ll get to the vault and distract it long enough so I can get a look inside.”

“Distract it? How?” the man asked, his face white with fear.

“Throw food at it,” Wagner said, a psychotic light filling his eyes.

Wagner rushed down the passageway, got to the edge of the vault, and kept going. He fell to the floor, sliding feet first in the blood and gore, and cleared the vault opening in a split second. In that split second, he caught a glimpse of what was inside the vault.

Death.

Blood-coated death.

Wagner slowed his slide and got to his feet. Just before a tentacle shot out from the vault and slapped the floor where he’d been only a moment before. He jumped back, tripping over a severed arm, and fell hard on his ass. He then realized that the man that was supposed to be following right behind him was no longer in the passageway.

“Stupid coward,” Wagner said. He looked around at the couple of men that were still there, the men that had been fighting the whole time, and he gave them a nod. “Grab up all the body parts you can.”

The men’s eyes went wide.

“You want us to what, sir?” one asked.

“Start grabbing up body parts,” Wagner said. “We’re going to toss them into the vault as fast as possible and hope the thing goes for them instead of us.”

“Instead of us?” another man asked. “You mean we’re going in there?”

“No way,” a third man said.

Wagner shot him in the face.

“You’re useless if you can’t follow orders,” Wagner said. “Anyone else want to be useless?”

They shook their heads back and forth quickly.

“Didn’t think so,” Wagner said. “Now grab up body parts. As much as you can hold while still maintaining control of your weapons. We throw and go. No hesitating.”

Then men nodded and looked about the passageway. Finding body parts would not be a problem.