Tricky Business (29 page)

“WHAT THE FUCK TOOK YOU SO LONG?” SAID Kaz, picking up his TEC-9 and Fay's pistol, putting the pistol in his pocket.

“The door shut on me,” said Holman. “It was locked from the inside, so I hadda go way the hell to the other end of the ship to get back inside. What're all these people doing here?”

“I don't know,” said Kaz. “This one says she's Coast Guard.”

Holman looked at Fay. “I like the new uniforms,” he said.

“Never mind that,” said Kaz. “We gotta get going. I did the radios. You do the other thing.”

“What about
them
?”

“I got a plan for them,” said Kaz, who'd been doing some quick thinking. “Hurry up.”

Holman went to the helm and started working on the autopilot. Kaz made a little speech to Eddie, Fay, Wally, Johnny, Ted, Mara, Arnie, and Phil.

“OK,” he began. “I should shoot alla you.”

“Oh my God,” said Mara.

“But I won't,” continued Kaz, “because this is Bobby Kemp's operation, and he don't want a lot of dead people. And we work for Bobby Kemp, so we do what Bobby Kemp says.”

Kaz wondered if he was laying the Bobby Kemp thing on a little thick, but he figured better safe than sorry. There was a chance the captain would be dead soon, and he wanted to make sure the rest of these assholes remembered Kemp's name.

“Now,” he said, “we're gonna leave you here. You want to not get shot, you
stay
here, understand? We're gonna have a guy with a gun right outside the door downstairs, and if anybody comes out that door, he blows your fucking head off, everybody got that?”

“Done,” said Holman. Everybody felt it. The ship was starting to move.

“OK,” said Kaz. “Captain, I need you to step over there.”

Eddie stepped away from the group.

“Good,” said Kaz, and he shot Eddie in the stomach.

Mara screamed. Phil grabbed his chest. Johnny grabbed Ted and said, “Oh
man.
”

“Anybody else wants to get shot,” said Kaz, backing to the stairway, “just stick your head out the door.” To Holman he said, “Let's go.”

They clumped to the bottom of the stairs, where Kaz pulled a pocketknife from the pocket of his shorts and began sawing through the late Hank Wilde's rope. As he worked, Holman hissed, “Why the fuck did you shoot him, man?”

“So he can't run the boat,” said Kaz. “If we tie him up, they just untie him.”

“Oh,” said Holman. “Yeah.”

Kaz kept sawing.

“Hurry up, man,” said Holman. “I'm thinking that fucker is gonna leave us out here.”

“No, he won't,” said Kaz. “He don't dare leave us here,'cause we know he ran this whole operation. Plus which, even if he did try to leave, Rebar'd shoot him.”

Kaz had no way of knowing that, at that exact moment, a bullet was passing through Rebar's brain, Rebar having served his purpose as far as Tark was concerned.

“Well, hurry up anyway,” said Holman.

“OK,” said Kaz, as the rope fell to the floor. “Let's go.”

At the top of the stairs, the three musicians, the two old men, the barmaid, and the undercover agent heard the heavy steel door slam shut. The captain heard only the roar of his own pain.

 

TARK FELT THE
EXTRAVAGANZA
START TO MOVE as he hoisted Rebar's body over the transom into his boat. Tark was pleased. All that remained for him to do now was kill Kaz and Holman when the big dumb morons got back with their guns safely tucked away in their gym bags, as Tark had instructed them. Depending on where they went down, he could either put them into his boat with the others, or, if that was too much work, he'd shove them into the sea. Then he'd shoot some holes in the hull of his boat, enough to swamp it. And then he'd be out of there.

A few feet away, the Zodiac, which was now the most valuable inflatable boat in the history of the world, began to bounce and judder in the big ship's growing wake, almost as though it was eager to get going. Tark picked up his TEC-9, stepped back on the platform, where he'd be less visible, and waited for his partners.

 

FOR MANY PASSENGERS AND STAFF ON THE
EXTRAVAGANZA,
the first indication that something might be amiss was when a stark-naked man came racing down the stairs into the second-deck casino, pursued by a tall blonde woman holding a large knife. Both of them were shouting. It was hard to make out the exact words, but he appeared to be making a plea for understanding, to which she did not appear receptive.

Everybody in the casino, except for the really intent slot-machine players, paused to watch as the man sprinted the length of the casino floor and into the stairwell leading to the first deck, with the woman maybe three steps behind, leaving, in her wake, a distinct odor.

The pause continued a few moments after they disappeared, with no sound in the casino except the relentless
bingbingbing
of the slots, as people pondered the meaning of what they had just witnessed. The gamblers decided that whatever the problem was, the casino staff would deal with it. The casino staff decided that, whatever the problem was, Manny Arquero, who always dealt with everything, would deal with it.

So everybody went back to gambling.

 

Frank had his tightly bound wrists way down behind himself now, under his ass, but he was beginning to accept that he couldn't get them any farther. He was too sick now, too weak. He wasn't gonna make it. He felt it coming now, another wave of nausea, and he could tell he wasn't going to be able to fight this one off.

 

STU CARBONECCA'S BOAT HAD TURNED INTO A hellishly rhythmic torture machine.
ROAR
it would blast up the face of a big wave; then
VROOM
the engine would rev wildly as the boat became airborne and the props broke free of the water; then
WHAM
it would crash back onto the ocean, causing the thugs to shout “FUCK!”; then Lou would scream “FASTER!” at Stu; then the boat would roar up the next wave, and the cycle would repeat,
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!” and on and on and on in the unending dark and hostile sea.

At the helm, Stu, soaking wet and freezing cold, thighs screaming with pain from constant bracing, eyes half blinded from the spray, was thinking about when he was 17, and he told his mom that he was going to work with his uncle Leon in the trucking business, and his mother cried and begged him to go to St. John's instead like his brother and become an accountant, and he told her no way he was gonna spend the rest of his life sitting behind a desk. Stu was thinking,
I wish to God I was sitting behind a desk right now.

FAY WAS TRYING TO REMEMBER HER FIRST-AID training. She was kneeling next to Eddie. The bullet hole was just above his belt, a little to the right of center. Blood was starting to seep into Eddie's white uniform.

Check the victim's responses.
That was the first thing Fay remembered. She bent over Eddie's face. His eyes were open.

“Captain!” she shouted. “Can you hear me?”

Eddie moaned.

Fay felt his pulse.

“Does anybody know first aid?” Fay said, over her shoulder.

Nobody responded except Mara, who said, “Oh my God.”

Wally thought,
I wish I knew first aid.

“OK, listen,” said Fay. “We need to get him help right now. There has to be a doctor on this ship, or somebody who knows first aid. We need to get somebody up here.”

“You mean go outside?” said Johnny.

“Yes,” said Fay.

“But that guy said he'd shoot us,” said Johnny.

Fay shook her head. “He said that to scare us. They're not gonna stand around up here. They're gonna get the hell off this ship as fast as they can. This guy needs help
now.
”

Nobody moved.

“Look,” said Fay. “I'll go out the door first, OK? You'll see it's safe. Then I want you guys”—she pointed to Wally, Ted, and Johnny—“to go find a doctor or anybody who knows first aid and get him up here fast. You”—she pointed to Mara—“go to the cashier's cage. They must have a guard in there, somebody with a gun. They might have some kind of alarm or emergency radio. Tell them what's going on. Tell them we need somebody up here right now who can run the ship. You two”—she pointed at Arnie and Phil—“stay here and help the captain.”

“Help him how?” said Arnie.

“Put something over the wound,” said Fay. “Don't press it hard, though. Try to keep him conscious. We'll get somebody up here to treat him and run the ship. But whatever you do, do NOT leave this man, you understand?”

“I got it,” said Arnie.

Fay was on her feet. “Let's go,” she said.

“What about you?” said Wally.

“What do you mean?” said Fay.

“Where are you going?” said Wally.

“I'm going to the back of the ship,” said Fay.

“Oh my God,” said Mara.

“Why?” said Wally.

“Because that's my job,” said Fay.

She went down the stairs, followed by Wally, Ted, Johnny, and Mara. She paused at the steel door, then turned the latch and shoved it open. She stuck her head out. Behind her, Wally winced.

Nothing happened.

“OK,” Fay said, stepping into the hallway.

“She has more balls than I do,” said Ted.

“Than all three of us,” said Johnny.

He's right,
thought Wally.

The three musicians followed Fay into the hallway. Behind them came Mara. As she left the stairwell, she let go of the steel door, which closed with a solid
THUNK.

 

TARK STOOD WITH HIS BACK AGAINST THE SHIP, TEC-9 at the ready, waiting. He looked around at the scene of carnage he'd created: He had Bobby Kemp and Rebar on the ship, representing one side of the gunfight. Representing the other side were the six bodies sprawled on the platform, Hank Wilde, Manny Arquero and his crew of four, Manny and two of the others holding guns in their lifeless hands. It looked convincing to Tark.

He checked his watch. It had been almost ten minutes since the ship had started moving.
Where were they?

 

 

. . . ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM
“FUCK!” “FASTER!”
ROAR VROOM WHAM . . .

 

IN THE FIRST-DECK CASINO, A CUBAN LADY named Celia sat at a stool in front of a slot machine, one of six machines forming a little nook, three on each side. She reached into her plastic cup, took out yet another quarter, stuck it into the slot, and pushed the PLAY button. She watched the wheels spin and stop, one by one . . . a bell . . . a seven . . . a line.

“Ni agua,”
she announced, to nobody, for probably the eightieth time that night.
Not even water.

As Celia prepared to put in another quarter, she felt somebody brush close behind her, into the nook. She turned, and at first saw nobody; then she looked down, and saw a man crouched next to her stool, hiding. He was naked. He was also, Celia could not help but note, good-looking, in a Brad Pitt kind of way, although Celia's heart belonged to Julio Iglesias.

Celia heard shouting, and turned around to see a tall blonde woman, wearing a casino uniform, running along the banks of slot machines, waving a knife. Celia, a smart lady, understood instantly who the woman was looking for. She turned and looked down at the naked man. He looked at her and held a finger to his lips,
shhhh.

Celia turned back and watched the blonde woman run past. She was shouting, but Celia could not make out any words except “understand.” As soon as the woman was past, the naked man jumped and began running in the opposite direction, toward the stern of the ship. Celia could not help but notice that he had a nice butt.

The naked man's path took him right next to one of Celia's friends, Luba, who, already freaked by the lady with the knife, screamed. The scream got the attention of the knife woman, who turned, saw the naked man fleeing, and took off after him, still shouting.