The Power Trip

  Cruz dragged on his cigarette while giving the Captain the evil eye. He didn’t like the man and wanted him out of his sight. After a moment or two he jumped to his feet and yelled, ‘Mercedes!’

  She came running onto the bridge looking flustered.

  ‘What the fuck’s takin’ so much time?’ he demanded. ‘Go find Amiin, an’ tell him to shift his lazy ass. I want Kasianenko here. An’ I want him here now!’

  Chapter Ninety

  With Amiin firmly secured, and the information Taye had persuaded the pirate to give up, they’d found out that there were at least seven more men aboard. Seven armed pirates floating around, men to whom killing meant nothing.

  Flynn tried to force Amiin to reveal what locations they were at, but Amiin was done – he spat a bloody tooth at him and refused to divulge more.

  At least they had two weapons now. Flynn kept Aleksandr’s gun, and Cliff took Amiin’s. It turned out that Cliff had made several movies where he’d had to use a gun, so he assured Flynn that he knew what he was doing.

  Decisions had to be made, and fast. Somehow Flynn seemed to have gotten himself the title of team leader. It didn’t bother him, he was used to being in dangerous situations.

  ‘Luca and Taye, you stay here with our prisoner,’ he said, taking control. ‘Aleksandr, Cliff and I will go on a search mission.’

  ‘It don’t need two of us to stay with this prick,’ Taye said hotly, not one to miss out on any action. ‘I’m comin’ with.’

  Flynn made a quick judgment call. Was Luca able to handle it if one of the other pirates came looking for their comrade? He didn’t think so, especially if the predators were armed.

  The answer? Everyone had to stick together and they would take the captured pirate along as a human shield.

  Yeah, that was it – he should’ve thought of it before.

  ‘Untie his ankles,’ Flynn said. ‘New plan. We’re taking him with us.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Cliff asked.

  ‘’Cause if anyone’s getting shot, it’ll be him,’ Flynn said grimly. ‘Okay, guys?’

  Everyone nodded.

  * * *

  Renee attempted to move. She was naked on the blood-soaked bunk bed, squashed up against the wall. The man who’d shot Hammond was curled up next to her, snoring.

  She was almost too frightened to struggle free. Yet, instinctively, she knew that to survive that was what she had to do.

  There was something horribly wrong with this scary man lying next to her. The smell emitting from him was noxious. His skin was the colour of old cowhide and wrinkled with wear. His hair was matted into unkempt dreadlocks. His eyelids were black over sunken eyes and he had no eyelashes.

  Repulsive, disgusting and a killer.

  Move! her inner voice screamed.

  Get out!

  Run!

  Gingerly she made a vain attempt to squeeze past him.

  It wasn’t possible, he had her wedged against the wall.

  Renee realized that the only way out was to slide across him. Yet if she did that, what would happen if he awoke?

  She shuddered to think.

  Hardly daring to breathe, she carefully began moving over him, blood from her body dripping onto his filthy clothes.

  For a moment he ceased snoring.

  She immediately stopped moving, lying on top of him as if they were lovers, desperately trying to control her shaking body.

  Basra grunted, farted, then resumed his noisy snoring.

  Renee continued with her escape plan.

  * * *

  After making her way downstairs, Mercedes quickly dodged out of sight the moment she saw Amiin being frog-marched out of the master suite surrounded by several of the male passengers.

  Her heart started beating at an accelerated pace. Why were the male passengers on the loose? How had this shit happened? Things were progressing so smoothly and now Amiin had gotten himself caught? This wasn’t part of the plan.

  She knew she should warn Cruz immediately, but the pull of opening Kasianenko’s safe was luring her in. Besides, Cruz was sitting upstairs with an Uzi and other guns. He’d blow everyone’s head off at the first sign of trouble.

  Before that happened she could open the safe, grab the ring and the piles of cash she knew was there, then with that done, she’d go find Basra, Cashoo and the others to take care of the passengers.

  At least then, whatever happened, she’d have her future secured.

  Screw it! The time had come to put herself first.

  * * *

  Down in the mess-hall the pirates were getting out of control. Daleel and Hani had been away from their homes for too long and their testosterone was raging. Plus the beer was having an effect.

  Daleel didn’t bother finding a bathroom. He took out his penis and pissed in the direction of his captives, jerking his cock back and forth so the stream of urine spurted in all directions.

  ‘Friggin’ wanker!’ Den yelled, as a spray of urine splashed him in the face.

  Daleel cackled, and reached for the assault rifle slung over his shoulder. He then waved it threateningly in the air.

  ‘Still wanna do nothin’?’ Den muttered to Guy, as Hani decided to take a shot at the ceiling.

  The bullet missed the ceiling and ricocheted off the wall, hitting Jeromy in the shoulder.

  Jeromy squealed like a stuck pig. To his horror he’d been shot, actually shot. His face paled as he slumped forward clutching his wound, blood seeping through his fingers.

  ‘I’m going to die,’ he moaned. ‘I’m going to die amongst you people. And no one will ever know I was here.’

  Then he passed out.

  * * *

  Cruz was not a man to be taken by surprise. Mercedes had always said that her poppa had eyes in the back of his head. He was a crack shot too, so anyone coming at him better watch out.

  However, the last thing Cruz expected to see was Amiin, hands bound, a gag covering his mouth, being shoved onto the bridge with several men behind him.

  ‘Drop your weapons,’ Flynn commanded. ‘Do it now or we shoot our hostage.’

  Amiin’s eyes were popping out of his head. He knew what was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it happening. Cruz would show no mercy.

  Cruz was on his feet in a flash. Eyes blazing, he began shooting – several bullets hitting Amiin full on, another bullet grazing the top of Flynn’s ear.

  Captain Dickson cowered in a corner, too scared to do anything.

  Cruz was acting like a madman, wielding the Uzi as if he was Al Pacino in Scarface.

  ‘Back off, everyone,’ Flynn yelled to the others. ‘We gotta take cover.’

  He didn’t need to tell them twice.

  * * *

  ‘What’s she doing?’ Ashley whispered, peering through the oneway mirrored panel at the top of the safe room entry.

  Bianca crowded next to her. ‘It’s that stewardess, whatever her name is.’

  ‘Should we bring her in here with us?’ Sierra questioned. ‘She needs to be protected.’

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Bianca said. ‘It looks like she’s trying to open Aleksandr’s safe.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Lori said.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Bianca said excitedly. ‘Seems like she knows the combination.’

  The women crowded near the panel, watching as Mercedes got the safe open, and started piling the contents into a large garbage bag.

  ‘That little bitch!’ Bianca exclaimed. ‘She must be one of them. What can we do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Xuan said evenly. ‘Flynn and Aleksandr told us to stay in here until they get back, so that’s what we should do.’

  Bianca shot Xuan a dirty look. She still didn’t like her, and hearing the Asian woman mention Aleksandr’s name infuriated her.

  ‘Well,’ Bianca said sharply, ‘if you think I’m staying in here while some skank robs my man, then you are very much mistaken.’

  ‘You’re not going out there, are you?
’ Ashley asked, alarmed. ‘’Cause if you do that, they’ll find out where we’re hiding. We’ll be caught, and who knows what will happen then.’

  ‘She’s right. We shouldn’t leave here,’ Sierra said, the voice of reason. ‘This is a dangerous situation, we mustn’t make it worse.’

  Bianca hesitated. She didn’t appreciate being told what to do, yet deep down she knew they were right: it was better to be safe than to risk getting captured.

  ‘Okay,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I’ll stay in here. Although believe me, I’d sooner be out there kicking that bitch’s ass.’

  ‘Right on,’ Lori murmured.

  * * *

  With one last frantic push, Renee fell off Basra onto the floor, landing next to Hammond’s dead body. A terrified scream rose in her throat, but once more no sound came out of her mouth. She was traumatized. All she could think about was running away from this chamber of horrors.

  Without thinking about anything except escape, she staggered towards the door, her feet sliding on blood – Hammond’s blood – which seemed to be everywhere.

  Her hand slipped on the door handle as she wrenched it open and ran naked, streaked with blood, out into the narrow hallway.

  She was looking for someone – anyone – who could possibly save her.

  She was looking for sanity.

  Chapter Ninety-One

  An Uzi was not a weapon to argue with. The man behind the automatic gun had all the power, and would use it to his advantage.

  Cruz was just such a man, a man simmering with fury. One moment he was king of it all – in total control. The next, a bunch of civilians – rich motherfuckers who should have known better than to mess with Cruz Mendoza – were coming at him with threats and a trussed-up Amiin, the fool who’d allowed himself to be taken prisoner.

  Cruz didn’t hesitate. In his line of work, he’d discovered that hesitating is what gets a man killed.

  He sprayed the motherfuckers with bullets, many of them slamming into Amiin, and maybe hitting a couple of them before their human shield slumped to the ground and they ran like scared rabbits.

  Still cowering against the wall, Captain Dickson attempted to make himself invisible, while Cruz screamed a vicious litany of swearwords in his native Spanish. The Captain understood that he was trapped with a deranged man, and once more he feared for his life.

  Cruz had other things on his mind, however. This takeover was not going as expected. At first, so smooth and easy. Now this complication.

  ‘Abort’ was the word that sprang to mind. Abort and get the hell off this boat. The passengers had guns, and that was fucked up.

  He could kill ’em all. But if he did that – who would pay the ransom?

  Fucking no one, that’s who.

  Cruz spat on the ground, a sour taste filling his mouth.

  It seemed that Amiin was dead. He’d worked with him for seven years. Amiin was the clan leader, his main link to the other pirates. Amiin was the only one who spoke English, allowing him to communicate with the Somalians. Now Amiin was gone, and it was a disaster.

  Cruz made a quick decision. No use thinking about what could’ve been.

  He had to get off this boat. And he had to do it fast.

  * * *

  After getting the safe open, Mercedes excitedly tipped the bundles of cash into the garbage bag. She figured that there had to be at least a hundred thousand dollars in bills.

  She was rich at last, and best of all, everything was hers.

  The ring box stood front and centre, a true prize to be enjoyed. She recalled seeing the sparkling emerald and diamond ring for the first time, so magnificent it had taken her breath away.

  Time was passing, but she couldn’t resist. She opened the box and once more admired the ring. It was a thing of beauty, probably worth a fortune.

  A thought crossed her mind. What if she slipped it on her finger? Then it would truly be hers.

  Before she could do so, gunfire erupted, and she knew there was more big trouble.

  Grabbing the ring and the garbage bag stuffed full of money, she raced from the room, and set off to see what was going down.

  * * *

  ‘Get in front of me,’ Cruz ordered Captain Dickson, waving the Uzi in the Captain’s face. ‘We’re fuckin’ movin’.’

  Captain Dickson stared in horror at the dead pirate sprawled on the ground, the man’s body riddled with bullets. The Captain was well aware that he could meet the same fate, although thankfully Flynn and the others were not barbarians; they wouldn’t shoot him down like a dog as Cruz had done to his man.

  Or would they?

  No. They wouldn’t, he was sure of it.

  He wasn’t so sure about this out-of-control Mexican wild man. What if the maniac put a bullet in his back simply for the hell of it?

  ‘Move,’ Cruz repeated. ‘An’ do it now, motherfucker.’

  * * *

  As soon as Cashoo returned to the mess-hall where the hostages were gathered, Daleel lashed into him, demanding to know why taking a piss took so long and what was he really up to?

  Cashoo considered himself just as important as the other Somalians – they might be older than him but they were certainly not smarter.

  He wasn’t getting into an argument about how long it took to relieve himself. Daleel was jealous of him. Back home in Eyl, Cashoo always had the prettiest girls, while Daleel was stuck with a fat wife and two whiney kids.

  Hani cackled on the sidelines. He’d helped himself to a mug of hot soup, and what with the soup and too much beer, he was feeling mighty tired.

  Watching the two pirates argue, Den was burning with frustration. If only he could get the crew to take action instead of sitting around like a bunch of scared girls. If he could do that, then he knew there was a fair chance they could grab control.

  Guy was busy ministering to Jeromy who had recovered consciousness and was whimpering like a wounded puppy, clinging onto Guy as if Guy was a lifeboat in a storm.

  In spite of their history, Guy did what he had to do and assured Jeromy that everything would be fine.

  Den had manoeuvred himself next to the First Officer and a couple of the deckhands, and was urgently attempting to get them motivated to take action.

  The First Officer, a fellow Australian, seemed up for it. The deckhands, scared of catching a bullet – not so much.

  And while the pirates were bickering amongst themselves, and Den was in full persuasion mode, an apparition entered the room.

  It was Renee. Blood streaking her naked body. Hair matted with blood. A blank look in her glassy-eyes. She wandered into the room, arms outstretched, walking as if she was a ghost.

  For a moment nobody moved, until summoning his best Tom Cruise, Den leaped into action, throwing himself at a surprised Cashoo, wresting the gun out of the boy’s hands, hoping that the crew would follow his lead, and that he wasn’t alone in his bid for freedom.

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  Six hours had passed and Sergei was starting to get the feeling that something was very wrong. He couldn’t reach either Maksim or Viktor, and that was infuriating enough. They both had phones. No signal. Nada. Nothing.

  Had Cruz double-crossed him?

  Had he dared to make the hijacking of The Bianca all about him?

  Was he planning on keeping Kasianenko, claiming the ransom, then letting the bastard go?

  If Cruz did such a thing, there was nothing to stop Sergei from ordering a hit on him, a major hit that would involve torture before death, because nobody fucked with Sergei Zukov and lived to tell the tale.

  Son of a bitch!

  He summoned Ina from her bed and berated her.

  ‘It’s not my fault if he’s done somethin’ bad,’ she whined. ‘I can’t tell him what to do.’

  ‘How much does your low-life brother care about you?’ Sergei demanded, his left cheek twitching out of control.

  ‘I dunno,’ she said sulkily. ‘We have different fathers, y’know.’
>
  As if that made a difference. They’d both sprung forth from between the legs of the same whore.

  ‘If your brother don’t return soon,’ Sergei threatened, ‘if he’s screwed me – then you can pack your shit and get out. Understand me, pizda?’

  Ina understood.

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  After taking cover, Flynn tried to figure out their next move. He was dealing with a group of inexperienced men who knew nothing about combat. It wasn’t as if they were in the midst of a battle in Afghanistan, but this was still dangerous territory and he didn’t care to see anyone else getting hurt.

  A bullet had grazed the top of his ear – no big deal. He was more concerned about Aleksandr, who’d taken a bullet in the thigh and was bleeding profusely. They’d gotten him into Kyril’s room, where they’d discovered the security man’s dead body.

  Aleksandr had shaken his head and groaned his sorrow.

  Two dead already. How many more? Flynn didn’t want to think about it. As long as Sierra and the women were safe, that was his main concern.

  ‘I’m afraid you’re out of action,’ he informed Aleksandr. ‘Luca and Cliff, you’ll stay here with him. If anyone comes visiting, don’t hesitate – shoot ’em.’

  Cliff nodded. Shit! He was somewhat fearful. This wasn’t play-acting any more, and the gun he was holding onto was making his hands slick with sweat. Not to mention Kyril’s dead body, a signal that the pirates really meant business.

  ‘I’d like to have a gun,’ Taye said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, full of nervous energy.

  ‘And I’d like to have a cold beer,’ Flynn retaliated. ‘But we gotta make do with what we got. So you and I are gonna go see what’s goin’ on. You up for an adventure?’

  Taye wasn’t afraid. Being raised in a tough inner-city London area had taught him plenty about how to be streetwise and he had a few special moves of his own.

  ‘I’ll lead the way,’ Flynn said. ‘If I get my head blown off, take my gun an’ mow ’em all to hell an’ back. Right?’