Page 51 of Austen

Stein just had to wait till everybody went into the salon again, and then he’d reboard the boat.Same way he had earlier, although without having the dinghy to draw alongside it, pulling himself up the prow of the yacht might be a little trickier.

Right now, the yacht sat still in the water, so that was a plus.If he had to, he’d hang on to one of the dive ladders and just let it pull him along until he could board.

He should probably lose the Sig Sauer.It weighed about a billion pounds in the water.But who knew what he’d find once he got back on board?He refused to think about it.So instead, maybe he’d think about Phoenix and the look on her face when he had surprised her.

Feisty.Shocked.But was that a smile?As if she was glad to see him?He didn’t know how he felt about that.Shehadn’tleft him for dead again in Mariposa—in fact, she’d probably saved his life, although he didn’t have the foggiest clue how.So maybe she hadn’t been lying when she’d told him that she hadn’t wanted him to get hurt three years ago in Krakow.Not just hurt—wrecked.Physically and possibly emotionally, although he hadn’t taken a good look at the status of his heart when he’d awakened in a hospital in Germany.

If he was honest, he definitely had feelings for her—the kind of feelings that ranged from wanting to run far and fast from the woman to the desire to sweep her up in his arms.And he had a very clear, slightly dangerous memory of kissing her in an alley in Krakow.And while it had been meant to be a ruse, she had responded—playfully, probably, as part of their cover.Still, she’drespondedand kissed him back.

Shook him more than a little.So maybe he had meant something to her too.

But that was three years ago and before the Black Swan team had blown up the café where he was supposed to meet his SEAL team, absconding with their target.And before, of course, he’d had to separate from the SEALs altogether thanks to his injury.So everybody just hold your horses.There was nothing happening here except him getting his sister off that boat.

The motor started up again, and he started to swim toward the boat.His gaze stayed on the captives.He’d taken out one of the Russians, and maybe Phoenix had rendered one ineffective.But three remained, and two of them brought the three captives back into the salon.

His new plan went like this: Get on the boat.Take out Thug One.Get the hostages off the boat and onto the two Jet Skis that sat attached to the swim deck.

He still had to figure out a way to keep the yacht from chasing them down.That would require a bit of tomfoolery.

He didn’t have toblow upthe yacht.He just had to disable it.The second Russian left, climbing the stairs again for the bridge, which meant it was three hostages to one—no, scratch that,fourto one—in the salon.He just had to get inside without being seen.

But before he could rescue his sister, the boat needed to be dead in the water.

Pulling himself up the back ladder, Stein crouched and slid onto the swim deck.The Jet Skis sat in the darkness, strapped onto the deck.He unstrapped them.Then he lifted one of the handguns he’d swiped from the weapons locker.

He aimed for a light over the main deck and pulled the trigger.The shot echoed across the water, butbam!The light died.He aimed for the other one and took that one out too just as a shout erupted from the bridge.

He sprinted up the stairs and ran down the side of the boat, hugging the darkness.

The thug came out and spotted him.

Stein aimed, but a gunshot from above pinged past him.A miss.

No choice but to get into the galley, so he took the stairs down to the lower level.

Oh boy.He was the king of good plans today, wasn’t he?But if he could stop the boat, he could keep them from chasing the escapees down.

He descended to the mechanical room.He didn’t know much about engines, although he’d bent over his grandfather’s old Ford a few times.Not quite the same setup as he stood in the massive area with its two bulky engines, generators, watermakers, and so many hydraulic and exhaust lines, it seemed like a jungle.

Shouts came from above.

Move.He spotted a couple of hoses and yanked.Steam and water sprayed out.One engine stopped moving.

More shouts.

The hot, dark engine room would be a terrible place to die.He reached for the other hydraulic hose.

The door banged open.Shots.He ducked behind a large AC unit.More bullets pinged off the engine, and one of them pierced something that sent out steam.Fantastic.A voice sounded from behind the shooter—probably something along the lines of “Don’t shoot in the engine room, you fool!”But Stein didn’t know enough Russian to know for sure.

He took a peek and spied a gunman heading straight for him, another man on his tail.

He aimed for the first, but another gunshot pinged through the room, and yes, he was going to die.

And then Austen would be really, really mad.

He held up his hands.“Stop!”

The gunman came straight up and cuffed him across the face with the butt of his gun.Stein jerked back, head spinning.But he shook it off, turned, and slammed his fist into the man’s face.

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