“Then I guess we’re going to do this until you die or fall into a coma,” I say. “And if you fall into a coma, well, I have it on good authority you can still feel stuff. I’ll keep going, and going…”
“Gems!” he bellows. “Uncut gems!”
I let my foot off of his shoulder and he rolls over onto his belly, groaning in agony.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I say.
He vomits noisily onto the deck. I step back to avoid the splatter.
“You need a doctor, man,” I say. “Now, uncut gems? Worth how much?”
“Millions!”
“Is that USD or Yen or?—”
“American money,” he gasps.
“Good man, now, what do these gems have to do with June?”
“She stole them.”
My jaw slackens at his words. It can’t be. There is no way that I read her that wrong.
“June stole them? When? How?”
“At the airport, from the courier, and took off into a limo before we could get to her.”
Even I am not stupid enough to think she would be able to get away with that half ass plan. It makes no sense. I’m missing something here, something important.
“Now, please, kill me. If she finds out I told you…”
“She, meaning Ming Xa?”
He doesn’t answer me, just groans.
“Well, you know what they say. Silence is golden.” I start to check him over for weapons but stop myself. He’s pretty gross right now, and I don’t want to touch him. Besides, if he had a weapon, he’d have gone for it by now.
I sigh and consider my options. Ricky and June still haven’t come back, and the sea is looking a bit rough. There are some white caps out there at least a dozen feet high. Not the ideal conditions for a hydrofoil.
I could try and pilot this monster out into the open water, but then what? I’m hardly a nautical ace. They didn’t teach us much of that in the Rangers, other than small, quick assault craft. Not a beast like theGo For Broke.
I think a better course of action would be to try and notify the Coast Guard about the sea sprite, and the possible hostage situation. Sure, Ricky seemed pretty smitten with June. But this guy here who kicked my ass seemed like just another dude. He turned out to be Jean-Claude Van Damme, only more badass.
I’m just getting ready to dial into Platinum Security when a blocked number lights up my phone. I fumble with the touchscreen for a moment, the blood on my hands making it almost impossible to swipe. “There we go. Hello?”
“Mr. Sawyer,” Moorcrock says smoothly. “Or may I call you Axel?”
Finally, the man from the limo.
“Brother, you can call me anything but late to dinner if you agree to leave June Mayweather the Hell alone,” I say.
He chuckles softly, confidently. Not an easy man to rile up under the best of circumstances apparently.
“You’ll leave me alone and stop coming after me, is that so?” He says in a tone that suggests he has no intention of stopping.
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it,” I say. “What do you want with her anyhow?”
“She has something that belongs to me, and I’d like it back.”