Chief Distraction (20 page)

But her confession would have to wait. The sound
of a small explosion ripped through the silence. Audible shouts and a scream of
agony carried on the wind, reaching them
.

The chaos instantly perked their attention,
killing the mood as they both froze in the act. Blythe scrambled off him,
crouching under the overhang. She hastily clamored for her blouse, shoving it
on in a frantic rush.

The heightened frenzy of the interlude was over,
but the sensual need still pulsed between them like a beating drum. Tension and
fear forced them into action. Mak rolled over and grabbed the gun fluidly like
he’d done it a thousand times before. The undercurrent of sexual desire was
replaced by a yearning to survive.

Mak brought the gun up as the voices escalated.
He clamored for the binoculars. Leaning over one of the boulders, he peered
down toward the thug’s encampment. The fire area was vacant. He swung the
binoculars left toward the sound of the shouts. Although seeing anything was
practically impossible in the darkness, he was able to make out three
silhouettes standing and one writhing on the ground, screaming in agony.

Blythe’s mouth gaped as she saddled up to Mak
and took the binoculars, looking for herself. “Was that a landmine then?”

“Yes. Not his lucky day,” Mak said without
remorse.

Blythe clutched her stomach. He saw the fear
blazing in her eyes. The reality of the landmine dangers was right there,
flailing around on death’s door at the foot of Lua Makika. The next one could
be for them if they weren’t careful.

“Well, that’s bound to get some attention from
the big island, right?” Blythe said.

Mak watched her fear turn to hope. “Don’t be so
sure. This side of the island can’t be seen from Maui, and at this time of
night, most people are inside sleeping. Not many people on the beach in the
dark to witness it.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Just being…”

“Realistic, I know. For once you could lie to
me, that would be just fine.”

“Sorry, not my style,” Mak winked.

Blythe crept back toward the rock overhang and
lay on her side, curling her legs up protectively. “This could possibly be the
longest, most emotional day of my life…and possibly the last.”

 
Mak
followed suite, wrapping her tightly in his arms. They were spooning again, but
the moment of urgent heat had dulled into a muted need for comfort. “This isn’t
the end, Blythe. I’ve got plans for us. We’ll get off this damn island, I
promise.” He reached out and touched a sleek, silky strand of her hair. “We’re
from two different worlds but this feels so right. Are you feeling it too?”

Blythe nodded, but her body language changed
slightly. Mak couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was as if she’d
mentally pulled away. He wished he could see what thoughts were going through
her head. He couldn’t see her eyes because of the way her head tilted toward
the darkness, shadowing half of her face.

“That means a lot,” she finally said. Mak
noticed her voice trail off a bit, growing distant. Wearing his heart on his
sleeve was something rare and judging by her reaction to it, maybe it was too
much too soon. He realized he didn’t care, it needed to be said and there was
no time like the present.

“You and I together would be incredible. I’ve
never experienced this kind of thing before, this need to be with someone, to
protect them. It’s giving me tremendous purpose, Blythe. Blythe?”

He realized then that she’d fallen sleeping.

Turning onto his back, he gazed up into the
expansive night sky and growing frustrated with her for being so damn
irresistible, frustrated with himself for dragging her into this mess. Their
ordeal would end soon, one way or another. Whether alive or dead, it would end
some way. If they lived, could things ever be the same between them? Would she
be willing to embrace a life that included a cursed boyfriend and embrace the
stares and whispers from other disapproving women in Maui? Not likely. After
they made it back to the island, Blythe would probably pack it in and move back
to Chicago – if they ever did make it off the island.

Pulling on his tee shirt, he left her to sleep
and crossed the grassy clearing, sitting alone by the fire. With the binoculars
in one hand and the gun in the other, he would remain on guard, keeping a vigilant
eye on the thugs below who were now camped out themselves, lying here and there
with no rhyme or reason. They’d left the fourth man to wail and writhe around,
not even having the decency to take him out of his misery. Mak was grateful
they’d given up the search for them…for now.

Chapter
Eighteen

The rising sun streamed through the cracks
between the boulders and hit Blythe square in the face like a personal wake-up
call. She was disoriented at first, but after looking around it all came
rushing back. She put her hands over her face, her palms pressing down on her
puffy, tired eyes. Thoughts drifted to Lou, which in turn reminded her of their
impending doom. She willed her tears to retreat to no avail; they flowed out of
her like an endless silent waterfall.

Pale yellow light on the horizon soon gave way
to lavender and orange as the sun rose in the East above the waterline.
Daybreak was arriving and with it, full visibility. There would be no hiding
now. Feeling tired and stale, Blythe couldn’t believe they’d survived the
night. Despite almost plummeting to her death and the close call with the thug
in the bunkhouse, she was still intact – unlike the guy who’d been blown
apart and left for dead. That was one way to defuse the palpable heat her and
Mak had shared. Looking up, she watched his face in the rising sun, the shadow
of stubble dotting his jaw. He stirred and then opened his brown eyes, rubbing
one and squinting at the offensive light.

“You okay?” he asked. It was sweet that she was
the first thing he worried about.

“I’m fine. You finally slept. That’s good.”

Mak checked his watch. “Last time I looked at my
watch it was 4am, so a couple of hours. Better than nothing.” He sat up and brought
his arms above his head, stretching out the stiffness the uneven ground had
caused during the night.

Her stomach rumbled with the prospect of
breakfast. A leathery fruit bar would have to do. As if sensing her need, Mak
tossed her one.

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” He rolled
over and propped himself up on an elbow, peering over the top of a
strategically placed boulder. “The three remaining guys are waiting at the dock
with guns in their hands. Something’s going to happen soon.”

As if on cue, the distant drone of a motor
hummed louder by the minute. Blythe finished the fruit bar and crawled up
beside him so their shoulders touched. She chanced a quick look.

“A boat, there, in the distance.” She pointed,
unable to mask her excitement. “Is it the Coast Guard?”

Mak brought his arm around her and pulled her
lower. “Easy. I don’t think so. Looks like a very expensive powerboat to me,
and it’s white. Maui Coast Guard is yellow.”

“Oh,” Blythe hunkered down lower, along with her
hopes. So not only was the Coast Guard not coming, more men with guns would be
arriving any minute.

                 
<><><>

The
whir of the high-speed powerboat grew louder as it rounded the island. The
driver cut the motor a short distance away and the boat coasted toward the dock
on forward momentum.

“You’re late, Wood,” Blunt barked as the driver
steered the boat into the makeshift slip. “We’ve been waiting the entire
goddamn night for you. What the hell happened?”

Wood, a rough looking middle-aged man, stayed
tight-lipped while a muscular boat passenger cocked his sub-machinegun to show
his displeasure at the comment.

“I said, what happened?” Blunt held his gun up
defensively.

“Good things are worth waiting for, my friend,”
Wood smirked.

“Yeah? Well, time is money so lets go,” Blunt
snapped. Sanders and Pax stood behind him trying to look intimidating. The
semi-automatics they held helped round out the overall impression.

“I see you’re already using our product, but I
can assure you there’s no need for the heightened security. We had a deal and I
will honor it,” Wood said calmly. He hopped onto the dock, leaving the four
thugs that accompanied him to deal with tying the boat and unloading the
shipment of guns that had arrived as ordered from Tokyo. The shipment had spent
a week on a barge, skirting Tai Pei, until the powerboat met it for the swap
off the Hawaiian coast.

“I understand the delivery is one box shy of my
order. And why is that?”

“There was a miscommunication. You will be
compensated for the loss. No worries. I thought you had three men with you?”
Wood asked.

“We had a little problem with a landmine last
night. My man, Roland, didn’t make it.”

“Well, no one said this island was without
risk.”

“Whatever. Lets get this done,” Blunt spit and
walked toward the awaiting crates.

                 
<><><>

Blythe
craned to get a better look at the scene below. It was next to impossible
without the binoculars.

“What do you see?” she asked.

Hearing her desperation, Mak willingly commentated.
“Eight men, but they aren’t a tight unit. The men from last night are
definitely separate from the other five, like they’re meeting for the first
time.”

“Do they all have guns?”

Mak nodded, staying quiet.

Blythe lay beside him on her belly, coursing
with the need to see for herself. The reporter in her wanted every morsel,
every detailed snippet of info she could gather on these men. The more facts
she had, the easier it would be to bring them down later after they’d been
rescued. Blythe still held hope that they might be. Surely someone would notice
they were missing.

“What are those crates for?”

“Something illegal.”

As if to answer their question, the tall leader
came forward with a crowbar and jammed it into the side of the closest wooden crate.
He pried back one of the planks. Reaching in, he fished around, pulling out
handfuls of shredded filling before finding his prize. He guided the long,
black fully automatic machine gun through the opening gingerly, as if it were
made of fragile glass. Even at this distance, Blythe could see the man’s mouth
twist in pleasure and awe.

“Gun smuggling. Where would the crates have come
from?” Blythe’s reporting instincts took over.

“My guess is Tokyo or Malaysia. Maui’s probably
a drop off point before the guns are shipped onward to the mainland.”

“It makes sense. This island seems like the
perfect location.”

“You’re right, it is. And since they’re willing
to take their chances smuggling, they’re also willing to take their chances
with the landmines and underwater bombs around the back of the island too. They
know the Coast Guard stays clear of that area, so no chance of being
intercepted. Those are AK47’s. These guys aren’t fooling around.”

“Are those the worst kind of gun?” Blythe
couldn’t mask her naivety. She’d covered stories on gunshot victims and violent
hold ups before, but those usually involved small handguns or knives.

“It’s a powerful weapon. Terrorists certainly
seem to prefer them. My brother Noki’s a cop and he’s always talking about guns
and the kinds of crazy ammunition his guys are encountering these days. AK47’s
are cheap, plentiful, and lethal.”

“These smugglers have done this before, haven’t
they?”

Mak nodded. “Absolutely. They’re far too relaxed
to be first time smugglers. Probably convicts with lengthy records already.”

“I wonder how long this has been going on. And
to think Kahoolawe’s been sitting out here the whole time, totally accessible
for just such a trade.”

“These guys are fearless with nothing to loose.
A crazy combo.”

“What are the gun laws like here?” Blythe asked,
never having been involved in that sort of thing unless she was reporting a
story on Chicago gangs.

“Well, one thing’s for damn sure, machine guns
like the one he’s holding are not permitted in Hawaii except by law enforcement
or the military. Hawaiian laws are very strict when it comes to firearms.”

“Do you think the overly strict gun laws have
increased smuggling then? This seems like a very active underground firearms
market to me. They must’ve been doing this for a while here.”

Mak turned to look her square in the eyes.
“Listen, there’s illegal firearm trafficking in every state, it’s a fact. Lets
get one thing clear, you’re not a journalist right now. You’re a potential
murder victim. Let’s keep our head in the game. I know you want to blow the lid
off this with a glossy story on the front page of tomorrow’s newspaper, but
lets survive first, okay?”