Page 27 of Sink or Swim

Maurice chuckles and pats me on the back. “They got it. Don’t worry, bud. I’ll make sure they all behave themselves.” Maurice tosses them a threatening glare, which makes them all stand straighter. “Right?”

“Right, boss,” they mutter in unison.

Maurice turns back to me and says, “Okay. Now that’s out of the way … where do you suggest we start looking? Where would she most likely be?”

I run my fingers across the stubble on my cheeks. Haven’t shaved since yesterday. Oona would love that. She always enjoyed when I had a bit of stubble on my jawline, but she’d always make sure I was smooth-shaven before I went down on her. I smile at the memory. “I don’t know. She should have been here. Every morning, we got fish for breakfast, then came back to cook it. I’d watch the house while she looked for more firewood.”

Maurice nods slowly, listening. “Now, I know you probably won’t like hearing this….”

I swallow thickly, bracing myself for what Maurice is about to suggest. Because what he’s about to say is probably what I’m too afraid to confront for myself.

“But is it possible Jonah’s guys got to her first?”

The abandoned warehouse in the heart of the lagoon is evidently no longer abandoned. True to Kyle’s intel, Jonah’s guys are crawling around it like it’s a freshly made anthill. They’re also strapped with machine guns and are twice the size of our own guys.

No offense to Kyle and the gang, but I don’t think any of them are going to be able to take these guys on.

We find a vantage point above a waterfall that allows us to look down on them, but without knowing if Oona is trapped inside the warehouse, we can’t get the drop on them. Kyle and the others are itching to rain down explosives on the place, but thankfully, they’re good at respecting orders. Maurice was clear: find Oona first, then they can do whatever the fuck they want.

I clench my jaw as I watch Jonah’s men go in and out of the solid double doors of the warehouse. Trucks go in and out every once in a while, too, but I can’t make out any details. Nothing that would indicate my girlfriend’s presence, at least not from here. Behind the warehouse, I notice some of the men are dumping barrels of white stuff into the water. That would explain why the fish have tasted like chemicals for so long.

“We need to get inside somehow,” I rasp. “She could be hurt, if she’s in there.”

“And how are we supposed to get inside without them gunning us all down?” Dwight asks, but he isn’t being snarky about it. He’s right. We need a solid plan, so we don’t wind up littered with bullet holes.

“A distraction. Something that’ll make them leave for a little while to give us enough time to slip inside,” I suggest.

Maurice nods and pats me on the shoulder again. “Good thinking. Well, we’ve got enough explosives for fifty Fourth of July fireworks shows. How about we set some off somewhere nearby?”

I hate that he’s suggesting this, because the damage to the environment would be … monumental. But it’s also the only thing we’ve got, and wasting more time going back to the city to work something else out isn’t in the cards. It’ll take too long, and who knows what they’re doing to Oona in there, if she even is in there?

We need to act, now. I turn to Kyle, and before I can even open my mouth, he’s scrambling to his feet.

“I’m on it,” he says before turning to the others. “Let’s go. Finally going to put those charges to work.”

In moments, they’re gone, disappearing into the brush the way we came. I stare Maurice down, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement.

“What? I don’t need to babysit them. They’ll get the job done,” he says. “They always do.”

I’m not sure I have as much faith in them as he does, but I also wasn’t around for the three months they were on-boarded, so I keep my mouth shut and look back down to our target.

Maurice and I fall into a companionable silence while we wait for the signal. It’s been ages since he and I got to work on a job together, and it feels a little like old times, except that, in this case, the stakes are higher. Much higher.

Never cared about the jobs I was on before. Just that they got done and no one got hurt. People always got hurt, of course. That’s the nature of the mafia. People were always getting shot, getting knifed. You name it. But this time, my girlfriend is involved. This time, I really can’t fuck it up.

In the distance, a blast erupts, shaking the ground and scattering the birds in a flurry of shrieks above us. Some of the men down below lose their footing and stumble over. Others start yelling in coarse voices. The main doors of the warehouse fly open, and a man with a blond ponytail and a Hawaiian shirts steps out.

Maurice snorts. “There he is,” he rasps. “In all his tacky-assed glory. Jonah Briggs.”

I squint as I watch Jonah yell a few things I can’t make out to a couple of men with machine guns standing by. They run off in the direction of the blast, leaving Jonah unguarded. Most of his men are gone by the time Maurice starts to move.

“I see his fashion sense hasn’t gotten any better over the years,” he grumbles as he carefully slides down part of the cliff. I follow him, and I’m impressed with myself that I don’t slip or stumble like I would have months ago. But living with Oona and being forced to keep up with her made me more adept at handling the forest’s terrain; even Maurice lifts an eyebrow when he watches me climb to the bottom without a sound. We slink around the side of the warehouse, crouching beneath the windows just in case there’s still someone inside.

Once we reach the corner of the building, Maurice cranes his neck around the side and I hear Jonah bark, “Do a perimeter check. I’m going to head inside and check on our guest.”

Great. Either we need to move, now, or we need to figure out a way to disarm two men with machine guns before we’re riddled with bullets. Maurice jerks his head back at me, telling me to move. But instead of going back the way we came, he grabs me by my wrist and practically tosses me up the side of the building.

“Wh-What the fuck—” I start, and latch onto a thin metal pipe leading up to the rooftop. What the fuck, indeed. Gulping, I stare at that metal pipe and close my eyes. I could barely get up the rope to the tree house. How am I supposed to scale a metal pipe twenty feet?

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