Page 15 of Stone Cold Bad
ELEVEN
COLT
Our boat, theDurango, sliced through the emerald green water.I had that creepy feeling you get on the back of your neck when you know something is off.I’d had the same feeling that morning my mom had crawled into bed for the last time.I’d finished smearing peanut butter on my half of the burned waffle, and as I screwed the cap back on the peanut butter, a shiver went through me as if an icy wind had blown through the house.I went through the rest of the morning with an uneasy feeling, thinking something wasn’t quite right.And I remember thinking I should go in and see what Mom was doing, but I stopped myself.Something told me not to go down the hallway to her bedroom.It was Hunter who finally got hungry for some lunch and who had plodded down the hallway to her room.I knew, for some weird reason, I knew.
Our connection, the boat sent to pick up the drugs, was moored at the precise coordinates they’d sent us earlier that morning.The sky was clear blue, and the sun was strumming a solid beat on the deck of theDurango.My dad had named the boat after his hometown.We’d never changed it.He’d be turning in his grave if he knew his pride and joy, the boat he’d loved far more than his sons and wife, the boat he’d never raised a cruel hand to, was hauling cocaine across the Pacific.That thought always made me smile.Anything we might do to piss our dad off in his eternal sleep was fine by me.We’d lived in hell while he was alive.It would be fitting to know that he was living in it now.
Hunter lowered the spyglass.“Rincon said they’ve got a new guy in charge.Worked with some of the cartels south of the border, a real motherfucker.”
I leaned against the railing.“Great.This gig just keeps getting better.”
Slade steered toward them and shut down the boat’s engine fifty yards away from our connection.Hunter walked along the starboard side with his spyglass.There was nothing for miles but deep blue ocean, which was what we wanted and needed.I always breathed a sigh of relief when our highly valuable and highly illegal cargo was out of our hands and in theirs.I had no idea where it went after it was carried out of our cargo hold, and I didn’t really give a fuck as long as we got the cash for making the drop.Our part of the job brought the least headaches with it, except we had to trust that both sides had dependable people working for them.If word got out, we’d be targets, not only for the feds, but for pirates or thieves looking to make a nice score on a cargo hold full of blow.
The other boat lowered a dinghy into the water.Their man stayed on watch from the crow’s nest while Hunter kept a lookout from the stern.Three men climbed into the small boat.Two I recognized as the usual goons who picked up the cargo.The third was a small guy with a shaved head, black beard and mustache.He had a shoulder holster on over his army green t-shirt.Nothing about him looked friendly.
They glided over the waves in the dinghy.As they reached theDurango, I threw down the rope ladder.They tied off the boat and climbed aboard.The new guy had beady dark eyes.He glanced around with amusement at our rusty trawler.
“Who’s in charge here?”he asked.
Hunter stepped around with his spyglass.“I am.Why do you ask?”
The man stared up at my brother who outweighed him by a good fifty pounds.That seemed to amuse him, too, either that or the arrogant smirk was just part of his natural expression.“I always like to ask so I know who to direct the conversation to,” he said.He looked at me.“Just you two?I also like to know how many people are onboard when I step onto a boat deck.You understand.”
Hunter pointed up to the pilot house.“One more guy.He’s in the captain’s chair.”
The man squinted up to the pilot house.“Wave him down here.I like all hands on deck while we check the load.”
Hunter stared at him a second, and I wondered if he would challenge the guy’s orders.Then he waved up at Slade to come down.We always kept pistols tucked under our shirts, but we’d never had to pull them out.Today my hand was itching to touch mine.It was obvious that Hunter had the same urge as me.
Slade came down from the pilot house looking the way Hunter and I were feeling, tense.The two usual goobers who accompanied these pickups looked just as uneasy with their new boss.
The man looked around with his shifty, deep set eyes as if he was expecting a bunch of armed men to jump out from behind the nets.“This is it then?”he asked after giving the deck a brief once over.
“Just us, man.Let’s get this going.We don’t usually stand here for a fucking tea party.”Hunter was on his last nerve.
The guy glared at him in a short contest of chicken to see if Hunter would look away.No fucking way that Hunter would do that.Impatience and a strong desire to get these assholes and this shit off the boat, prodded me toward the cargo hold.Shifty-eyed man followed.
I opened the trap door.The cold barrel of the man’s gun pressed hard against my temple.The sound of him cocking his gun rattled in my ear.
“What the fuck are you doing?”Hunter asked between gritted teeth, now having no choice except to control his temper.Otherwise, my brains were going to be splattered all over my dad’s precious boat.
“Assurance,” the guy sneered in my ear.He motioned for the other two to climb into the hold and haul the stuff up.The blow was in plastic bags, which had then been wrapped in brown paper and tied into manageable bundles, bundles that could easily be thrown overboard if needed.
Hunter and Slade both looked as if fire would shoot from their nostrils if they took a breath.Instead, they held in the rage and waited while the men dragged up the bundles and counted them.The jerk with the gun against my head reached down and pulled a knife from his leather holster.He sliced one bundle of the coke and dipped his finger in it.He rubbed it across his gums.“Lucky for you, it’s good stuff,” he snarled at the side of my face.“Get this to the dinghy.”
His two coworkers worked quickly to get the bundles down to their boat.The guy shoved the barrel harder against my temple and gave it a little turn to twist my skin painfully.
He leaned closer.“I’ve got to compliment you.You didn’t flinch once while I had this Glock pushed up against your skull.”He lowered his gun and put it in the holster.“I’ve had men piss their pants when I shoved a gun against their head, but you just stood there cool as a fucking cucumber.Impressive.”With that, he walked to the stern and disappeared over the railing.
I looked at my brothers.Hunter’s knuckles were white as he unfurled his fists.
The dinghy motor buzzed like a hive of angry bees as they returned to their boat.Slade shook his head as he climbed back up to the pilot house.“Don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”
Hunter didn’t say a word.He walked back to the railing and lifted his spyglass to his eye.
TWELVE
JADE
