Moon over Maalaea Bay (13 page)

Granddad slowed as they approached an area of boats and swimmers.

Lee put his wallet in a small compartment by the wheel, then pulled off his shirt, shoes, and socks. He grabbed two pairs of fins and a couple of masks with snorkels from the bin. “Katie, how strong of a swimmer are you?”

She took the equipment and smiled. “Very. But I’ve never used one of these things.” She held up the snorkel.

He positioned the mask and snorkel on her head, and gave her a couple of pointers. When he glanced up, Granddad cut the engine back to an idle.

“Is that the yacht?” Granddad nodded his head in the direction of a large, blue vessel, as Lee pulled his cell phone from his shorts pocket.

“That’s it. Here’s my cell, Granddad. If any other boat approaches the yacht while Katie and I are in the water, hit number five on my speed dial, like this. Peterson will answer. Just tell him—”

“I know what to tell him, Lee.” Granddad slid the cell phone in beside Lee’s wallet. “Now you and Katie go pretend to chase turtles. And be careful. Don’t get too close. We can’t make them feel threatened or they might threaten us.”

“Did you hear Granddad, Katie?”

“I heard. I’ll pretend to be looking for turtles, and as I roll around in the water, I can catch glimpses of the yacht to—”

“To identify the people on board. Get good descriptions of them. If Peterson has suspicions about the ringleader, our description could confirm them, bringing the Coast Guard, the MPD, and the FBI down on these guys in a matter of minutes.”

“Granddad, if we give you the signal”—Lee raised his closed fist and shook it—”you call Peterson immediately and declare an emergency, got it?”

Grandfather nodded.

“OK. Into the water, Katie.”

They both jumped over the side and soon were bobbing in the water.

Katie pulled the snorkel from her mouth.” It’s warm, Lee. Like bathwater.”

“That’s why people pay thousands of dollars to come here. Now, look around for turtles and…other things, but don’t get too far away from me.”

Katie’s snorkel went back into her mouth, and she headed to the seaward side of the big yacht’s bow.

Lee followed her.

In a few seconds, a large turtle surfaced directly in front of Katie. Her head came up for an above-the-water look, and then went back down. She swam hard to catch the fascinating sea creature.

Movement across the water drew Lee’s gaze. A big catamaran was heading straight for the yacht. The man standing on the bow was of Middle Eastern descent, and his gaze was locked on the blue yacht. The catamaran slowed and inched towards the yacht. Was this the trafficker’s customer?

23

Franklin James stood on the bow of his yacht watching the white catamaran approach. This transfer would come off as planned, or James would immediately distance himself from the whole mess. A one-hundred-pound weight on her ankle restraint and a quick drop into one thousand feet of water would be ample distance.

When the prince’s catamaran moved within fifty yards of his yacht, James began barking orders. “Snake, get the assault rifle. Keep the gun out of sight of anyone who may be watching.”

Mack’s stocky form approached James from behind Snake. “Mack, you get the merchandise ready. On my signal, she goes out the door, over the side, and down onto the deck of the other boat. Understood?”

“Understood, boss.”

“Until the transfer, wait outside the cabin door. Watch for any signs of trouble. I’ll give you the signal to get her after the catamaran draws near. Then you will complete the transfer as quickly as possible.”

“Got it.” Mack walked down the port side of the yacht and resumed his guard post by the cabin door.

Snake appeared in a few seconds standing forward, slightly to the port side, with the weapon clamped tightly to his leg.

James smiled. From one hundred yards away, the gun would not be visible to anyone.

Snake gestured towards something on the starboard side.

When James glanced that direction, he saw a snorkeler too close for his comfort. Since all the action would be on the port side, if they hurried, they could still pull this off.

He waited a few more seconds. The prince’s boat was only twenty-five yards away and moving slowly towards the yacht. When James gave his signal, Mack turned and reached for the cabin door.

****

Jennifer’s fierce blow cracked the ashtray in half. Half she held, the other half bounced across the floor and slid under the edge of the bed.

She glanced up at the guard’s silhouette. It was gone. There were voices coming from somewhere outside. A deep rumble came from something near. Was another boat approaching? The sound sent her heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream.

She sat down on the floor outside the bathroom door, wedged the broken half of the ashtray between her feet, and began sawing on her wrist restraints.

The sharp edge of the ashtray cut through the wrist restraints far enough for her to break them. It’d taken less than a minute of sawing. She quickly grabbed the shard of ashtray in her hands and sawed furiously on the ankle restraints.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. The guard’s silhouette moved on the sunlit curtain. The door handle turned.

Jennifer made one more violent slice with the ashtray and her ankles broke free.

The door swung open. Mack stepped into the room from the bright sunlight outside.

Realizing it would take a moment for his eyes to adjust, Jennifer jumped up, the ashtray in hand, and leaped towards him.

Mack tried to back away from the body hurtling at him.

Jennifer’s vicious kick powered by her emotions, adrenaline, and her consuming desire to reach Lee’s arms again, smashed into Mack’s face. The kick drove his head backward, where it cracked hard on the wall.

She delivered her second kick to a vulnerable spot below Mack’s belt. He grunted and slumped forward.

Jennifer drove the ashtray shard deep into the side of Mack’s neck. His loud howl would surely bring help.

When blood spurted from the wound on Mack’s neck, he frantically ripped at the bedding, seeking something to pack over his wound. A single glance at Mack told her his role in the fight was over.

She leapt out the door towards the railing. There was movement to her left. And…what was this? A boat had pulled alongside the yacht and the space between the two vessels had nearly closed.

Jennifer dove over the railing, praying she wouldn’t be crushed between the two vessels.

As she flew over the rail, she saw Snake in her peripheral vision. He was raising an assault rifle.

The staccato burping of an automatic weapon sounded when Jennifer’s back bounced off the approaching catamaran. After the hard bump, she slid into the water.

The warm saltwater amplified the sting of the abrasion on her back. She pulled hard for the bottom and tried to ignore the pain. Bubbly lines traced the path of bullets in the water beside her. She needed to go deeper.

Had she taken a deep enough breath? It didn’t matter. The impact on her back had knocked most of it out of her.

With her breath mostly gone, she couldn’t swim far under water. How could she avoid the bullets? By swimming under the catamaran and coming up on the far side? Could she make it even that short distance?

Her lungs already burned with oxygen deprivation. The adrenaline only magnified her oxygen craving.

Kicking hard, she saw light at the far side of the catamaran’s hull.

Catamaran. What was she thinking? Jennifer pulled for the surface between the two sides of the catamaran. She drew a deep breath when her head broke water at about midship. She looked around her. Light blinded her from the front of the vessel. If someone leaned over the bow, they could peer between the two hulls. They would spot her. She prayed that wouldn’t happen for a few more seconds.

Jennifer took four deep breaths and pushed her body under. She continued downward until she was about ten feet under, probably deep enough to be safe from the assault rifle’s bullets. Using the orientation of the catamaran to determine her direction, she estimated the direction of the large resort hotel and swam under water towards it.

The next time she came up for air, the gunman may have moved to the catamaran where he could fire at her. She would stay down until she started to black out. Jennifer purposely lost herself in prayer to counter the message her lungs were screaming and to fight the urge to swim to the surface.

Lord, help me now…to keep going…to reach the shore…to reach Lee.

She repeated the prayer until her vision became fuzzy, until the oxygen-starved muscles in her legs refused to kick, until her body became still in the water.

24

James’s door of opportunity had shut. Almost single-handedly, a 110-pound woman with an IQ double her weight had slammed the door shut and made him out to be a fool.

Goals change. James’s goal was now to prevent a prison door from slamming shut with him inside. He snagged Snake’s binoculars with one hand and ran to the bow of the yacht. As the catamaran and his yacht moved apart, his yacht had cut off the snorkeler from his boat.

The snorkeler pushed his mask up onto his forehead and appeared to be surveying the situation.

James trained the binoculars on the snorkeler. Reality struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The blonde-haired princess. But how?

Realization of his situation sent another lightning bolt through James’s rigid body. Too many people knew his location. With the island-wide law-enforcement presence, escaping with his life became his number one priority.

“Snake.”

The slender man with the assault rifle stopped scanning the water for Jennifer Akihara-Brandt and turned towards him. “What, Mr. James?”

“Forget her. Get in the water and bring
her
on board.” He pointed to the girl a few feet from the yacht’s bow.

Snake shook his head and frowned. “You sure about this?”

“Do it now, Snake. We might need a hostage.”

Snake’s eyes widened as he stared at his boss for a moment.

So Snake understood the extent of the danger now. Good. Perhaps it would motivate him.

Snake grabbed the spear gun from the storage cabinet beside him. He slipped off his sandals, ran to the bow of the yacht, and jumped over the railing.

James only hope of keeping his identity and location concealed long enough to escape was to kill the two men in the boat, capture the blonde in the water, and hope they had fatally wounded Jennifer Akihara-Brandt. Or hope the Iranians got her if she somehow made it to shore. He felt certain the pesky Iranians were watching. Without even knowing it, the Iranians had become his rear guard.

His Gulfstream was fueled and ready to fly at Kahului airport. But first, he had to get there, and he would sacrifice anyone and anything but himself and his pilot to reach his plane.

The sound of whining outboard engines grew louder.

James took the gun and crossed the deck towards the noise. The men in the boat were trying to circle his yacht to the side where Snake and the girl were. He couldn’t allow that.

He started to call to Mack for help, but saw him lying on his side coughing and choking while holding a bloodstained wad of fabric to his neck. He could forget about Mack.

James waited for a good shot. When the boat rounded the bow, fifty yards out, he fired a burst.

The boat veered out of control when both men dropped to the deck. But they got up and made another run, getting further around the yacht before his gunfire drove them away.

Now the boat raced away from him headed due south, still on the side where Snake and the girl were swimming in the water. He fired again, but the boat was out of range.

They would call the authorities. Within the hour these waters would be teeming with Coast Guard personnel, Maui policemen, FBI agents, and who knows what else?

James’s mind moved ahead with his plan, a plan that would free him from the clutches of the law, a plan that would get him back to Southeast Asia, a plan that relied on using the blonde-haired princess as his hostage.

****

Katie had blown it. She felt like a foolish schoolgirl. She
was
a foolish schoolgirl and it may cost her life.

Why did I follow the turtle so far? What was I thinking?

Everything seemed to have changed in an instant. But what really happened?

First, the yacht had moved. Then there was gunfire.

Thoughts of what the gunfire might mean tied her stomach into one big knot. If it cramped any harder, here in the water, she could be in serious trouble.

A movement near the bow of the yacht caught her attention. Someone had jumped overboard. She
was
in trouble, but it had nothing to do with cramps.

Katie gasped as a man’s head burst out of the water less than six feet from her. He thrust one end of a long object at her. She gasped again when she recognized the menacing spearhead loaded in the spear gun that was pointed at her face.

“Come with me…unless you’re into body piercing.”

The man’s voice was all air, like a hiss, like a snake. She was too stunned and frightened to move.

“Where shall we do the first piercing? Nose or belly button?” the man hissed.

She needed to think, to collect her wits, but they were scattered to the four corners of—

“OK, let’s do the nose.” He aimed the spear gun at her face.

“No! I’m coming.” Katie fluttered her fins and moved a couple of feet closer to the man.

“Smart girl. Cute, too. No…more like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed princess.”

That’s what the traffickers who captured her near Seattle had called her. Coincidence? Katie doubted that.

“Swim around me, towards the boat. Do it now!”

She complied.
Lee, I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t think.

“Swim towards the ladder. You will go up it first. Leave your gear in the water. You won’t need it.”