Page 45 of Beaches

“Nothing? Nothing?” he screamed. “Where the fuck did they go? That was a few dozen men, John. They didn’t just swim away.”

“We suspect they were rescued, sir.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, hoisting himself out of his cushy sofa. He spilled his bourbon and cussed, swiping it with his foot. “If those men live, they will testify to the U.N., and I won’t be able to put my face anywhere.”

“Maybe we change your face. We could go to South America, get plastic surgery, and then head south. Spend some time in the cold, healing, then find somewhere else to set up business.”

Nodding, he smiled at his man.

“That’s a good idea, John. When the men have everything loaded and are back on board, let’s set sail. We have our location.”

John left him alone to stare out at the still-angry sea. He didn’t mourn his brother’s passing. There was no need. He’d made a foolish error in going out there with the girl only to keep her from the Russian. She was a commodity. That’s all.

When the storm came in, he should have moved faster. End of story. Now, it was all on him. That was fine, actually. He didn’t mind that at all. After all, everything that had belonged to his brother was now his.

He’d thought about bringing a few girls on the boat with him, but that would only distract him. It wasn’t like he could enjoy them without a little help. Taking the pills only made his heart rate elevate, which in turn made his blood pressure elevate.

No, he was better off handling things by himself when they occurred. Which was rare. He did love watching the beatings, though. It was something he’d developed a love for with his father. He would invite him and Lawrence to observe when men or women were being beaten.

Lawrence didn’t care much for it, but he delighted in the sight and smell of blood. The pathetic, weak human beings not saying a word for fear that the beating would be worse. That was exciting.

John walked back into his private living space with a strange look on his face.

“We have to leave now, sir. The men have gone missing, and we’re not sure if they’ve abandoned ship or were taken.”

“Do we have enough men to run the boat?”

“We’ll manage, sir.” Kaplan nodded, trusting this man with his life.

“Then let’s go.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“We’ll be landing on the carrier here,” said Nine. “Doug is offloading the submersible and all our equipment now. We’ll take the boats and the submersible out here and come in behind her.”

“It will be dark by the time we reach the yacht, but they won’t slow down,” said Ian. “We just have to get close enough to disrupt the signal on their systems, and we’ll be able to shut everything down.”

“Can I assume we won’t be taking any prisoners?” asked Ghost.

“You can fucking damn sure assume we won’t be taking prisoners,” said Nine. “I want him stopped. Permanently. I just want a few questions answered first for my own benefit.”

“Mine too,” said Ian.

A few hours in sonic mode and the choppers were landing on the deck of the carrier. Men were coming out, staring at the bird and the array of men coming off of her. These weren’t active duty. These men were something different, and they all recognized it.

“Admiral, we’re making this a habit,” smiled Nine. He laughed, shaking his head.

“On this one, I’ll let you live here for free to catch this bastard. Some of those girls we had on board were in the worst conditions we’d ever seen. Venereal diseases that we don’t even see any longer, that hadn’t been treated.

“Not one of them could read or write, except a little French girl that was taken in the last couple of years. They were so confused by the sounds on the ship, the televisions, movies that we showed, everything. I was worried they’d all jump overboard before we could get them back to the States.”

“I know,” said Nine. “We got the men off the islands, and it was the same way. They’re all trying to catch up on everything they’ve missed, but it’s almost too much for them. We’ve got a team of people working with them, and hopefully, some will be able to go home soon.”

“Do you really believe that?” asked the admiral.

“I don’t have a choice,” said Nine. He nodded at him.

“I wish I had your optimism. Those men will have a very difficult time fitting in with society again. It will be a miracle if they can do it, but I just don’t have your faith.”

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