Page 98 of Chain Reaction
“I’m not sure,” Colton said, holding his binoculars. “But there are only two people aboard—two men.”
“You recognize them?” Jake asked.
“No.”
“Can I see?”
Colton handed him the binoculars.
“One of them is the man from the ferry,” Jake said. “I don’t recognize the other one. But I don’t see Raven.”
“I don’t think she’s on that boat,” Colton said. “Unless she’s lying down, and I doubt there’s room on that boat for that.”
“So there’s a good chance she’s still on board the yacht?” Jake’s heart thumped in his ears as he waited for his answer.
“I’d say so,” Ty said. “Let’s find out. We’ll let the Coast Guard catch those guys.” Ty picked up his radio to give the authorities the update.
CHAPTER 46
Raven twisted around the pole to see the bomb better.
The device was a compact arrangement of wires connecting a digital timer display to several cylindrical packages wrapped in what looked like modeling clay. A small antenna suggested remote detonation capability as a backup.
The bomb’s placement was strategic—close to the fuel lines that ran through the center of the vessel, where an explosion would cause catastrophic damage and likely sink the yacht within minutes.
The device wasn’t created to look like an historical remnant.
No, this one just looked big and dangerous.
While she knew a lot about identifying bombs, she knew next to nothing about disarming them. Even if she did, there was no way she could do anything. Not being tied up as she was.
The timer on the bomb said she only had six minutes before detonation.
Six minutes . . .
Then all the innocent—she assumed they were innocent, at least—people on board would be killed.
She pressed her eyes closed, fervently lifting up prayers.
There was nothing else she could do at this point.
Her wrists were rubbed raw. She’d tried to psych herself out and break a thumb in order to get her hands free.
But everything she’d tried hadn’t worked and had only served to give her cuts and bruises on her already sore wrists.
She felt along the pole and froze.
There was a small ridge where the metal had been welded together. It wasn’t large, but it might be sharp enough to break through the plastic zip ties holding her wrists in place.
She leaned forward, trying to angle her body up slightly so she could better reach the ridge.
Then she began to saw the plastic back and forth.
She prayed this worked—because it was her only hope.
Jake and his colleagues boarded the yacht.
Guests dressed in designer clothing and drinking fancy drinks milled about, enjoying cocktail hour while cheerful island music played.
