Page 11 of All The Way Under
“You stole my fucking boat, and you’re going to strip it for parts. You will pay. When you realize what you’ve done, you’re going to be sorry. So, so very sorry,” I say, in English this time to drive my point home. “They will find you. They will hunt you down. They will cut you open one by one and dissect your family and feed it to the sharks. I am your worst nightmare. I will be the end of you,” I say, and inside the dim glow from his navigation panel, I can tell my words affect him. I can tell by his face they’ve at least invoked some degree of fear.
He swivels his head back to the wheel as we approach land. “Who are you?”
I laugh, the mean kind of sarcastic cackle. “You’re asking that now? Too late. The damage is done. You. Are. Finished.” At his hesitation, I realize this might be an out. “Unless you drive me back to my sailboat right now. Before anyone knows I’m missing. That’s your only chance.”
“If you’re that important, you’re worth more than average. I’ll take my chances,” he replies in Portuguese. “Now shut up, or I’ll put you to sleep. You’re annoying me, and I need to focus.”
At least what he’s saying does confirm my kidnapping-for-ransom theory. They’ll have to keep me alive. Not by much, I remind myself.
I did research about this during my preparations. They’ll keep me alive without harming me. Bianca will make sure not a hair on my head is touched if they want a top-dollar exchange. They aren’t so uncivilized that I’ll be raped and pillaged. This is a large operation to fund terror, from what I understand gathered by the boat and equipment they used to trap me, and truly, I mean nothing except a payday to them. They’ll piece out my boat, part by part, for sure.
A pang of grief hits. I’ve lost so much already, and who knows what’s to come.
I realize the irony of my damn life being in Bianca’s hands because of something she deemed a stupid idea. If I live through this, I’m never going to hear the end of it. I’m going to make these assholes lives a living hell as retribution.
“Where are we going?” I ask again when I remember my phone, still on in my pocket, my dad living his worst nightmare as he listens to this unfold in real time.
I had to shoot people. I know he has made it to his computer by now and will be using the phone to see my exact location. The knowledge he gains will make a difference in my being found. I continue to pester in hopes of gathering information that will help him.
“Tell me. I demand it. Where are we going? Where is my boat? What are your plans?” The questions spill out of me like a toddler seeking the answer to why.
“I told you to be quiet,” he replies, dropping his right arm behind him, then swinging it.
A needle lands in my thigh hard and sharp before I have a chance to inch away from him. He presses the plunger before I can wiggle back, and the blackness overtakes me in seconds.
“Toward Madagascar,” I say out loud so the phone will pick it up. Looking at the stars, I try my best to remember my celestial navigation course, but the dizziness sweeps me away, and my eyes close without permission.
The last thing I remember is the deep vibrating hum of the engine as the boat slows, and my kidnapper’s voice as he talks to someone named Raza on his radio.
CHAPTER FOUR
brody
“And you’resure you’ll be able to complete the operation without blowing everything and yourself up?” Commander asks, a brow raised.
He’s nervous, and I can’t blame him. It’s the first mission of its kind in the SEAL Teams, and I’ll be doing it solo. It requires some acting and skills that, honestly, I’m not sure I possess, so I’ll have to ad-lib. It also doesn’t have a definitive start or end date. It’s ahowever long it takes to get what we need and out of there safelykind of situation.
We plan for many different scenarios when we’re preparing for missions, but this operation is something we can’t plan for.
“I’m not worried about your infiltrating the pirate camp and extracting the hostage. I’m worried about the in between, McCoy. When no one is supposed to know who youreallyare. The hostage can’t know you’re an operator, either.” He looks at me sideways. “Can you blend in?”
I nod.
“I know I’m an asshole who can’t hold his tongue, and I’m quick to react in real life when dealing with idiots, but this iswork, and I will be able to fulfill everything needed of me. I know it,” I tell him, laying a hand on my chest.
I feel guilty for the poor idiot being kidnapped in the first place, but it was also part of our plan, so I don’t feelthatbad. It had to happen for my part in this to be possible.
“This can’t be a traditional mission where we all storm in there, guns blazing. It needs to be covert. I’m the man for this job,” I say, shifting in the uncomfortable seat in our naval ship’s office.
The air is stale and always has a metallic, oily scent. If I think about it too much, it makes me want to throw up.
“I can blend in.”
Even as I say it, I think about tactics I’ll use to keep my true identity from the enemy and their captive.Act like Nolan,I think. He’s the only other person I know as well as myself. I already look like him. I just need to act like him—have the patience he has.Is that even possible?
My teammates left muster several minutes ago after it was declared that I was the man for this particular job. Not just because of my tenure, but mostly because of my sparkling personality.
“I know you are a man who can give people hell, McCoy. You know the hostage is female? We didn’t plan on who the hostage was going to be. It was just her unlucky day.”
