Page 152 of The 9th Man

The man joined Luke on the stern platform. He jammed the gun under his chin. “I’m here for the big man down below. You know who I’m talking about?”

A nod.

This next part was tricky. But everything depended on it.

“Is he paying you enough to die for him?”

No reply.

“I know him and I know how he operates,” Luke said. “After tonight you won’t have to worry about him anymore. Have you seen the press coverage on him?”

The man nodded. “Some of our wives sent us the information.”

“You still want to die for him? Or go to jail? I assure you, soon there will be federal agents everywhere. Your choice.”

“What do you want?”

“How many men on duty right now?”

“Just me.”

“How many more crew aboard?”

“Three. The captain’s ashore.”

“Doing what?”

“He’s got a girlfriend here.”

“The others are asleep in their cabins?” Luke asked. “Are they armed?”

“Yes to both.”

“I’m going to give you all the same deal. Die here, or get arrested trying to defend that piece of crap you work for. Or hit the beach and find a second chance. What do you think, am I wasting my time?”

“I really don’t know.”

“What’s your choice?”

“To hell with Rowland. He’s an asshole.”

“That’s what I hear. Let’s go wake up your friends.” He gave the Taurus an extra push, tilting the man’s head backward. “Just so we’re clear, if you or anyone else puts a toe out of line, you’ll be the first to go. Do you believe me?”

“I believe you.”

He kept the gun pressed against the man’s spine as they walked forward through the main salon, then down the companionway to the second-deck passageway. LED lights embedded in the baseboards cast a soft glow. There were two polished walnut doors on each side of the passage.

He halted his captive with a hand on his shoulder.

“Bring your friends out.”

He tapped on the doors.

Three men appeared in gym shorts and T-shirts. Luke kept the gun close to his captive. “I have no quarrel with any of you. And by now you know what your boss is. I’m a federal agent, the advance guard, and this boat is about to be overrun with badges. I’m ex-army, like all of you, a military guy. We can part company right now and you go find better lives to lead. That’s option one. Option two is you get either killed or arrested. Hold up the finger of your preferred option.”

All four men raised an index finger.

“Then get up on deck and use that dinghy to get the hell out of here.”

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