Riptide (37 page)

He shook his head, fingers tightening on the sill.

“
We
did that. Nick believes he has to fight this alone.”

Now he looked at her, and Bria had to catch herself as Nick’s eyes stared out of Jonah’s face. “You think he was joking about shooting us?” he asked dryly. “Trust me, he wasn’t. I’ve never seen him that angry.”

“How can you tell?” Bria returned, just as dry. Stepping back, she slipped the strap of the beach bag off her shoulder and set the heavy canvas bag on Jonah’s sleek black desk. Upending it with a clatter, she asked, “Colder than usual? Arctic ice or just more frigid?”

Jonah shook his head, eyes hard. Damn those Cutter blue eyes. “Then you really don’t know him at all,” he said, trying and condemning her all in the same breath. “Get out of here, Princess. I have to figure out how to fight Nick and the bad guys, and keep
you
alive while I’m at it so he doesn’t kill me twice for not taking care of you.”

None of that made much sense, but she didn’t try to unravel it. “I already had this fight with your brother,” she said firmly, ignoring his swift inhalation at her casual familial connection. “Don’t worry about me. Here. This should help.” She handed him a Sig Sauer and picked up what she considered
her
Bersa from the stuff she’d dumped on his desk. “Take these.” She slid a box of bullets toward him.

He stared at her, aghast. “You broke into his safe?”

“I watched you open it this afternoon, remember?” He wouldn’t believe her anyway. She sighed. “Who
cares
? What matters is that we’re both armed. Now, what’s the plan?”

The eyes he leveled on her weren’t quite so chilly as he hefted the weight of the Sig in his hand. “Which of us is going to sit on him while the other talks, and talks fast? Because believe me, when he sees the blue of my eyes, he’s going to use his allotment of bullets to blow my head off.”

Bria shook her head. “Not on my watch. You sit on him, I’ll do the talking. But first, is there anyone we trust on board right now?”

“No.”

She blinked. “Comforting. If that’s the case, that means we have to lock everyone up somewhere before the other bad guys get here, right?”

He cocked a brow, his resemblance to Nick, now that she knew they were brothers, uncanny. “How do you propose getting six men to gather in one place?”

She hadn’t thought of that. Quickly, her fingers deft, she checked the clip in the Bersa. “Just tell me where you can lock them in,” she said. “I’ll get them there.”

“Locks are
inside
cabins, not out,” Jonah pointed out. “And if there’s a lock on the door on the outside, it’s because there’s something critical to the ship inside that I don’t want people messing with.”

Bria’s brow furrowed in exasperation. “Help me out, here, Jonah. We need a padlock of some sort. A big one. Do you happen to have one of those?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Hang on, yeah. I do. And oh, God—I have somewhere we can stash six people. The old walk-in refrigerator in the hold.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Will they be able to breathe in there?”

“The only person in there right now doesn’t need to breathe.” He opened and closed several cabinet doors. “No. And I guess we don’t want to kill them, although God only knows it would make this a whole lot less complicated.”

“What about the steam room?” Bria gestured toward the door triumphantly. “Easily can handle that many. They’ll even have somewhere to sit, and access to water.”

“Access to—” He pushed his hand through his short hair, slanting her an incredulous look. “What are you, in with Amnesty International? These are terrorists we’re talking about.”

“Maybe not all of them.” She set the Bersa back on the desk, her jaw set. “And
we
aren’t.”

He held up both hands. “Okay. Steam room.”

“Good. How long to get the padlock?”

Jonah slid the Sig in the front of his jeans and rounded the desk. He opened a cabinet nearby and dug around in a plastic tub. After a moment, he pulled out a giant padlock, then went back in for a length of sturdy chain.

“I don’t want to know why you have that in your office,” Bria said with a crooked smile.

“Hey, you ask, I deliver.”

“Okay, put that in here.” She held out the canvas bag. The chain clanked and made a hell of a racket as Jonah coiled it in the sack, and made it heavy enough that she had to use both hands just to hold it. That and the big padlock filled it to capacity. Jonah took it without asking. He was a Cutter all right.

“Let’s go up and make sure this will hold them. Then we’ll call everyone to the sunroom for a staff meeting.” Bria yanked open the door. “I have a degree in bullshit. If you can get them there, I can get them to the steam room.”

He searched her features, and she read in his eyes his worry. Hell, he was just as anxious as she was, just as concerned for Nick. No matter what the idiot had said to them both. She squeezed his arm. “Let’s get the party started.”

“I hope to hell we don’t bump into Nick,” he said grimly. “Our relationship is strained enough as it is. It’ll be damned inconvenient getting blown to hell by my brother at this stage of the game.”

“Won’t happen,” she said firmly, and hoped her forced optimism was right. Nick wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. No matter how icy he seemed. He’d avoid rather than confront, just like he did by concealing his emotions and locking them away.

“Weapon?” Bria tucked her Bersa into the waistband of her jeans where she could grab it quickly.

They took the stairs at a run.

Basim and Isaac were bringing in the cushions on the sundeck, stacking them neatly, ready for the next morning. The head steward, Khoi, had been sent away in the lifeboat earlier. Jonah called to Basim, who gave him a startled look when he took in his black eye and distorted nose. “Make an announcement that I want to talk to everyone in here. Everyone, no exceptions. Five minutes. Come on, Princess,” he added smoothly, “I have something to show you in the gym.”

A padlock, a chain, and two loaded guns.

She prayed it was enough as she accompanied Jonah across the room as Basim’s voice came over the PA announcing the captain’s request, and ordering all hands to assemble in the sunroom
immediately
. No exceptions.

They passed through the doors to the gym, letting them swing closed behind them, and Jonah immediately pulled the chain and lock out of the bag. He looked at the gracefully curved, solid brass handles. It was a swing door with no locking mechanism. But with the chain threaded through the handles, and padlocked in place, it would hold, leaving a gap of a few inches.

“There’s the advantage of them getting a sliver of fresh air,” Bria thought out loud as Jonah tested the fit and function of the chain through the handles, then slid it free and coiled it behind the Bowflex machine out of sight. “I really didn’t want to be responsible for killing anybody. Now my brother, on the other hand…” Bria trailed off because just thinking about what Draven had done, what he was responsible for instigating, made her furious all over again, and right now she needed to be as cool, calm, and collected as Nick Cutter to get through this.

Beyond the panoramic curved windows was nothing but black now, and the reflection of the two people as taut and tense as bowstrings. Bria felt the weight of the Bersa pressed against her belly as she dragged in a deep breath before turning to Jonah. “Ready?”

He gave her a narrow-eyed look. “I think you should go to the pilothouse and wait for me.”

“I think not.”

“I’m going to have to herd all those possibly pissed off men in here at gunpoint,” he argued. “Nick will kill me twice if I add you getting hurt or worse to my infractions. This could get ugly.”

Bria loved the understatement. She had no doubt it
would
get ugly. “Then we’ll get ugly back. Come on, Jonah. Time’s a-wasting. Nick needs us. We can’t screw this up.”

He didn’t have the time to keep the debate going and he knew it. She marched to the doors, forcing him to swear as he hurried to catch up. The downsized crew was already assembled in a tight knot in the middle of the room. The men turned as one to look at their captain.

Chapter 22

“We’ve had a breach in security,” Jonah told them. The men glanced at each other nervously. Bria thought they also looked guilty and ill at ease. The level of tension in the room was thick as a gathering thundercloud. She tried to read their expressions. They knew something was up, but she suspected they weren’t yet aware that whoever they worked for was sending in reinforcements.

Or maybe they did.

“The princess is missing a valuable family heirloom. I’m not accusing anyone,” Jonah added as mutters rippled through the crowd, “but this is a serious issue. The princess assures me that as long as she gets the piece back, there will be no charges filed.”

“What is missing?” Basim demanded, his eyes narrow dark slits, his anger palpable, his handsome face ugly with contempt.

The look he gave her made Bria’s skin crawl. “The person who took it knows.” Bria made no attempt to straighten her clothing or mess with her hair. Both were a lost cause. Straightening her spine, she transformed her features into a mask of righteous,
royal
annoyance and pretended she was wearing silk and a tiara. It was going to be honey as long as they complied, and until they were secure in the steam room.

Frankly, she’d rather shoot a few body parts—to encourage them to do what was asked—than go through the motions so they didn’t become alarmed and start fighting back.

The fact that she was feeling so bloodthirsty didn’t shock her at all. One or all of these men would kill her, Jonah, or Nick without a blink.

She was here to make sure that didn’t happen.

If there were any strange men on board in the next hour, the three of them would know for sure
they
were the bad guys.

This situation was not up for debate.

She braced her hands on her hips as Jonah stirred beside her, and pitched her voice to carry over his whispered, “What are you—?”

“
I’m
not required to give
you
an explanation,” she said waspishly. “I demand you empty your pockets, right now.” Easier to say than—
Hey! Any of you guys armed to the teeth?

There were loud cries of indignation until Jonah held up his hand. “Guys, you know how I feel about stealing.” Bria admired his quick recovery, even as she continued to tap her foot impatiently. “And we can’t afford an investigation, especially not in international waters. Cutter Salvage takes accusations of theft seriously, so empty your pockets as the princess asks so we can all get back to work.”

She tried to read which of the men were scared they’d lose their jobs if accused of stealing, and which were afraid they’d have their weapons removed and worse. Problem was, none of them looked particularly scared, but they all looked angry.

A glance at Jonah and she gathered he felt the same way.

To avoid a bloodbath, they had decided on this ruse to get the men to comply without tipping their hand. But damn, Bria just wanted it to be over!

Where was Nick? How was Nick? She wanted to be with him. To let him know that she and Jonah were there to help.

One by one, the men filed past Bria, emptying their pockets. They were silent, but that silence was thick with churning, escalating anger. The looks they gave her told her what they thought of her. Like she gave a damn. She gave each a cool appraisal.

As soon as the crew lined up, pockets turned inside out, Jonah withdrew the gun from his waistband, his hand steady as he trained it on them, his own expression turning from fake annoyance to deadly intent. “First man to move loses a limb. Princess, pat them down just to make sure.” Sure they weren’t concealing a weapon.

Bria used the Bersa to motion to the first man to raise his arms. The German did so, his face mottled, the cords in his throat bunched. Keeping the gun inches from his back, she used her free hand to pat him down. Ew. His T-shirt and shorts were both clammy with sweat as she ran her hand over his clothing.

“What is going on?” Basim demanded from further down the row. “What is this? First half our associates are sent back to Tenerife so our work is doubled, now this indignity!”

This was taking too long. Bria could practically hear a metronome ticking in her head. “On second thought—strip.” The men turned as one to gape at her. Bria kept her eyes steely. “Take off your clothes, all of you. You can keep on your skivvies. Do it. Now!”

Silence flipped to a series of loud indignant protests. Bria raised her voice to carry as Jonah trained his weapon on the knotted group. “You have one minute to get those clothes off,” she said tersely. “Then I start shooting what I can’t see.”

A few of the men hastily pulled off their shorts and T-shirts, bent to unlace their tennis shoes. The others refused to comply. Basim was one. “This is an outrage!”

Jonah motioned to the steward to do as he was told. “The order is nonnegotiable.”

“I won’t do it,” Basim said angrily. He strode purposefully toward the exit, his lanky legs carrying him quickly. Bria raised the Bersa a few inches and fired directly in front of him. The wall fountain shattered, scattering marble and river rocks like buckshot. Some of the men ducked, others screamed. Everyone stripped faster.

She held the gun steady as Basim spun around, a look of fury coupled with shock on his face. It didn’t bother her in the slightest to see blood was streaking his temple and cheek where a sliver of rock had grazed him. “Get back with the others, and
take off your clothes
. I won’t ask again. The next shot will be in you.”

Cursing in Arabic, he strode over to the others and yanked off his clothing.

When they were all down to their underwear, or in a couple of cases, bare-assed naked, Bria and Jonah herded the men into the steam room and shut the door on their angry questions. Jonah affixed the chain and padlock, and Bria, because she felt as though a bull’s-eye was now painted on her back, rammed the chin bar from the Bowflex in beside the chain to reinforce it.