Page 39 of Not This Soon

Rachel shook her head, her jaw clenching. "I didn't do anything. But someone did, and we need to move before this whole yacht goes up in flames."

She pulled him towards the door, her steps urgent. The yacht tilted further, the angle becoming more pronounced. Rachel's boots slipped on the polished wood floor, but she maintained her balance, dragging Morris behind her.

Smoke billowed through the open helm door, the air growing hotter with each passing moment. Rachel's lungs burned, her eyes stinging. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. The sound of panicked voices echoed through the yacht, mingling with the blaring alarms.

Rachel pushed forward, her focus singular. She had to get Morris and the other passengers to safety. Questions raced through her mind, but she pushed them aside. There would be time for answers later. Right now, survival was all that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rachel stumbled and her hand snatched at the edge of the metal railing of the sinking yacht, the cool night air a momentary relief from the suffocating smoke. Chaos reigned as guests ran in every direction, their faces etched with fear. Some clutched life jackets, while others simply stood paralyzed, unsure of what to do, staring out across the harbor with longing gazes towards the docks.

"Everyone, to the lifeboats!" Rachel shouted, her voice cutting through the din. She scanned the deck, searching for the bright orange vessels. They were there, still secured to the yacht's sides.

Morris pulled against her grip, his eyes wide. "Let me go, Ranger. I need to find my wife."

Rachel tightened her hold, her gaze locking with his. "Your wife is smart. She's probably already on a lifeboat. We need to go, now."

She pushed through the crowd, her free hand waving people towards the safety vessels. The yacht groaned, the sound deep and ominous. Water lapped at the deck, pooling around Rachel's feet.

As they neared the boats, Rachel's eyes darted from face to face, searching for any more of Grant's men. She frowned towards a large, beefy fellow leaning against the deck. She approached, but as the man turned, she realized he was just a waiter, his bow tie askew and his eyes wide with terror. She held herself steady as the yacht listed again, causing people to clutch at each other for support.

"Now!" Rachel shouted to the crew manning the lifeboats. They began to lower the boats into the water, passengers scrambling aboard with rushed words of prayer.

Rachel spun around, scanning the crowd one more time.

“Morris?”

The pale-haired, stiff-postured owner of the yacht was nowhere to be seen.

The crackle of Rachel's radio cut through the chaos, Ethan's voice urgent and strained. "Rae, you there? I caught up with Grant’s man. Morris hired him, Rae. It was all Morris."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. Chaos threatened to overwhelm her, but she paused, taking in a slow, deep breath. This was just another hunt.

Another big game hunt. Once, she’d tracked a mountain lion during forest fire season in the Chisos mountains. She’d been forced to keep her wits about herself then as well. So now, she inhaled slowly, drawing in the fresh sea breeze tinged by the billowing ashen fumes.

She counted to ten slowly, not moving. Allowing her body to relax, for the tension in her muscles to slowly diminish.

She pressed the button on her radio, her voice steady despite the turmoil around her. "Copy that, Ethan. I'm on the yacht. It's going down fast. Morris is here somewhere. I'm going to find him."

She released the button, her eyes scanning the smoke-filled corridor leading back to the helm. The yacht lurched beneath her feet, the angle of the deck growing steeper with each passing second. Screams echoed as people flung themselves into the safety boats, the sounds mingling with the roar of the flames.

Rachel pushed forward, her steps quick and purposeful, re-entering the corridor, and keeping in something of a crouch, head downturned to avoid inhaling smoke. She also held her jacket collar over her mouth to prevent inhalation, her eyes darting between doorways as she sought any sign of Morris. The hallway was a maze of half-open doors, fancy artwork barelyvisible through the smoke. Yacht rooms, guest rooms, storage rooms. She checked them all, quickly but thoroughly.

Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest as she moved deeper into the smoking vessel. Every creaking noise made her flinch, the image of the yacht sinking beneath the waves filling her mind. It was only a matter of time.

As she rounded the corner, a new sound reached her ears: the high-pitched whine of a motor. She frowned. The sound was coming from the opposite exit.

A motor… not the yachts. A smaller boat? The coast guard had been approaching from the east. A hunter was always attentive to their surroundings. So what was this sound coming from the west? She quickened her pace, bursting out onto the deck.

As she neared the edge, she heard the scrape of metal against metal, the sound distinct amidst the chaos.

She peered over the railing, her eyes widening at the sight below. Two men in dark hoods stood on a small platform, their hands grasping at a ladder that hung precariously over the water. And there, clinging to the bottom rung, was Morris. The two men stood in a small speedboat, hands tense as the vessel rocked silently back and forth.

Rachel's heart hammered in her chest. She couldn't let him get away, not now. She leaned over the railing, her voice cutting through the din. "Texas Ranger! Freeze!"

The hooded men jerked their heads up, their faces obscured by shadows. For a moment, they seemed to hesitate, their grip on the ladder tightening. Then, in a flurry of movement, they released their hold and leapt towards the wheel of the idled speedboat.

Morris let out a yelp, his hands scrabbling against the ladder as he swung out over the churning water. The speedboat's engine roared to life, the sound deafening as it pulled away from theyacht. The hooded men abandoned Morris, half clinging to the ladder, his legs kicking out over the sea.

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