Fool Me Once (16 page)

“Is
Mr. Morgan back yet?” she asked the grinning Carlos as they pulled away from
the pier.

“No,
Senorita. Senor
Josh is not back yet.” The powerful motor cut into the
water, leaving a broad wake. The ocean breeze was refreshing and she closed her
eyes, turning her face up to the sun. Maybe Josh wouldn’t have to gamble
tonight. A quiet night together would be welcome. She smiled to herself. Who
knew where that might lead?

She
took a quick shower, dressed in a blouse and a pair of shorts and studied
herself in the mirror. Something was missing. Ah, yes… the necklace. She felt
grounded when she wore it; she wouldn’t trade it for all of the glittering
jewels in Marbella. She found it in a drawer and slipped it around her neck.

The
yacht was quiet; a perfect time to work on her notes while she waited for Josh
to return. Sitting cross-legged on the bed she started to type, but the diamond
flashed, breaking her concentration. Every time she looked at it she was caught
up in a tangle of emotions, and she didn’t need the distraction. She shoved it
into the pocket of her shorts and continued typing. Thoughts, impressions,
facts…all flowed rapidly and her fingers danced over the keyboard. Later on she
would expand on these notes, but for now it was enough to record the details of
her conversation with Eliska while they were fresh in her mind.

A
faint sound broke into her thoughts. She recognized it as the motor launch
bumping against the side of the yacht. Josh was back! Her heart did a quick
two-step and her fingers hung motionless above the keyboard. She listened for
the sound of his voice, his laughter as he joked with the crew. There was
nothing but the sound of something being dropped on the deck.

Curiosity
aroused, she listened more intently but could detect no voices. With a few
quick commands, she saved her notes and moved the laptop onto the dressing
table.

The
passageway was empty and she scampered up the stairs leading to the deck. A man
stood with his back to her, bent over Carlos, who lay slumped on the deck.

“What’s
going on here?” Adrenalin pumped through her veins as she pushed the unfamiliar
figure aside and knelt down beside Carlos. Out of the corner of her eye she saw
a second crewmember lying on the deck. Blood oozed from a blow to his forehead,
staining the spotless teak.

Too
angry to feel fear, she pushed herself upright. She had been in dangerous
situations before, but the enemy had always been faceless, remote. This was
different. Her mind raced as she tried to assess the situation. “All right. Who
are you and what do you want?” she demanded. “The captain and the rest of the
crew will be here momentarily, so I suggest you leave.” She looked down at
Carlos, who moaned and then lay still. “This man needs first aid.”

The
man leered at her and her flesh crawled. “Forget it, lady.” His words were
thickly accented.

Footsteps
sounded behind her. None too soon, she thought thankfully, and turned to greet
her rescuer.

A
second man, dressed in dark clothes like the first, appeared on the deck. Long
sideburns reached his chin, and his eyes were cold and hard. “She’s the one,”
he said in a similar accent. “Get her into the boat.”

His
voice was cold and emotionless. The skin at the back of her neck crawled as the
first wave of fear washed over her.

“Now
listen here,” she stammered. “You’re making some sort of a mistake.” She
started to edge toward the railing. She could jump over and swim for shore; it
wasn’t that far.

“Oh,
no you don’t.” The first man grabbed her arm. “You’re coming with us.” His
breath smelled of garlic. Olivia repressed a shudder of revulsion.

She
attempted to pull away and his grip tightened. With his other hand he reached
out and grabbed her necklace, twisting it around his hand until it cut off her
air supply. “Don’t even think about it,” he hissed. “You’re coming with us.”

“Take
it easy.” The second man intervened. “The Boss said no rough stuff.”

Released
from the powerful grip, Olivia sucked air into her lungs, and massaged her
neck. Her fingers brushed the necklace, and for an instant she was back on the
esplanade and Josh was looking at her with that tender look of approval. She
glanced toward the shore, praying that he would show up and rescue her. But
there was no sign of him. She drew herself up to her full height. She would
need to keep her wits about her until he arrived.

She
didn’t hear the second man until he was right behind her. “I don’t want any
trouble from her,” he said. A rough cloth was jammed over her nose the mouth.
An acrid smell burned her throat and she struggled but was no match for the two
men. She slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Josh
looked across the sparkling expanse of water toward the yacht, then looked
again at the unresponsive cell phone in his hand. Why weren’t they answering?
He could see the motor launch bobbing peacefully at the bottom of the boarding
stairs, so he knew that someone was on board. He re-checked the number and
tried again, with the same results. Every instinct told him something was wrong.

A
sleek powerboat pulled up at the pier, disgorging a group of voluble Italians.
As they laughingly made their way to the esplanade, he ran down the steps.
“Could you take me out to the
Xanadu
?” he asked, slipping some money
into the driver’s hand.

The
man shrugged and indicated that he should get on board. Within minutes he was
climbing the stairs onto the yacht.

He
assessed the situation at a glance. Both crewmembers lay on the deck. Juan’s
face and clothes were bloody but he moaned and tried to sit up, clutching his
forehead. Josh helped him, relieved to find that the damage was not as bad as
it looked at first. “Just sit still for a moment and we’ll get you patched up,”
he said, keeping his voice calm. He knelt beside Carlos and gave him a gentle
shake. The young man came to with a start and tried to scramble to his feet. He
felt the back of his head, wincing as he fingered a large lump. “I’m sorry,
Senor Josh. I didn’t see them come aboard.”

Using
every ounce of willpower he possessed, Josh managed not to give in to anger.
There would be time for that later. He settled Carlos in a deck chair.

“That’s
okay,” he said. “But tell me what you remember.”

“I
was over there,” he said, gesturing aft. “Polishing the brightwork. I heard a
boat pull up and I thought it was you. I remember wondering why you didn’t call
for me to pick you up. I turned around to say something, and I saw Juan lying
on the deck.” He glanced toward his fellow crewmember. “Then I heard someone
behind me.” He touched his head gingerly. “That’s the last thing I remember.”

“I
think I remember something, Senor.” Juan spoke for the first time. “There were
two of them, and they were speaking a foreign language.” He frowned. “I’m not
sure what it was.”

“Can
you guess?”

“It
could have been Czech or something like that. But I can’t be positive.” He
shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

Josh
walked to the railing, turning his back on the two crewmembers. He was afraid
he wouldn’t be able to mask his fury, and he didn’t want them to witness it.
Leaning over the side, his eyes fastened on the motor launch. He turned,
speaking to Carlos. “At least Miss MacMillan wasn’t back yet.”

Fear
stabbed his heart as he watched Carlos’ face. The color drained from it and he
stood up unsteadily. “But
Senor
Josh, Miss Olivia came back about an
hour ago. I brought her myself.”

Josh
was across the deck before Carlos finished speaking. Heart pounding, he ran
down the passageway, knowing that she wouldn’t be there. “Olivia!” he called,
knocking on her door, and then shoving it open. He looked into the en suite
bathroom. Droplets of water still clung to the shower door. He continued down
the passageway, throwing open each door and calling her name. He ran back up on
deck, breathing hard.

“You’re
absolutely sure she was on board?” he asked, knowing what the answer would be.
“She didn’t leave?”

“No
Senor
. I’m positive.”

Josh
turned on his heel and walked into the salon, out of earshot of the
crewmembers. He flicked open his cell phone, punched the speed dial and took a
deep breath. “Dirk” he said, trying to calm his pounding heart. “They’ve taken
Olivia.”

* * *

Olivia
opened her eyes. Her head felt fuzzy and it ached. She was in the back seat of
an open boat, running parallel to the shore. The sound of the hull slapping
against the water was agonizingly loud, making the pounding in her head even
worse. Her hands were bound in front of her with duct tape, and she tensed,
recalling the scene on the yacht. She had to think! Closing her eyes, she
feigned unconsciousness. She needed a few minutes to figure out what was
happening. Her thoughts darted here and there and she worked to free her hands,
but nothing made sense. She remembered making notes on her computer, eager to
share what she had learned with Josh. He’d told her earlier that there were
more arms dealers than anyone realized. What was it he’d said? Oh, yes. He’d
said that they were multiplying ‘like fleas on a dog’. Well, he was right. And
thanks to Eliska, she’d discovered another one. She needed to get free, to tell
him about her friend’s startling revelations.

Through
lowered lashes she checked her progress with the duct tape. It was slightly
looser, but there was still a long way to go.

A
sudden thought skittered across her mind. Could this be something to do with
Eliska’s father? What if he’d questioned Eliska and found out that she had told
her about the illegal arms? She shuddered, recalling her friend’s words. She’d
called her father ‘evil’. Olivia mouthed a silent prayer, hoping that Eliska
and her mother had escaped; that they were on their way to freedom.

And
then there was Josh. Could he be in danger from Eliska’s father? There must be
some connection between Josh’s mission and Jiri Blazek. Her heart started to
pound, knowing that she had to get free and warn him.

She
opened her eyes again. The breeze generated by the boat’s movement tousled her
hair, but it felt good. Her head was clearing. The two men in the front
continued to face forward and she glanced around, trying to fix her position.
The boat slowed down and she recognized Puerto Banus. Had it only been a few
hours ago that she’d walked those streets with Eliska? It didn’t seem possible.
The driver throttled back the engine, and she sensed instinctively that he
didn’t want to attract attention. Not that there was anyone around to see them.
She considered calling out, but who would hear? In the heat of early afternoon
the docks and shoreline were deserted. Better to wait until someone noticed
them she decided, as the boat cut steadily through the waves, leaving the
exclusive port behind.

A
few minutes later, the boat rounded a breakwater and slowed even further.
Olivia scanned the pier for signs of life. Fishing boats rocked idly at their
moorings, but there were no people in sight…no one to help her. She silently
cursed the Spanish habit of taking a siesta. It was becoming clear that there
would be no rescue from anyone on the dock. In that case, it was time to take
charge of her own rescue. Grabbing onto the mooring cleat on the edge of the
boat, she pulled herself upright until she was sitting on the edge of the boat.
Sliding backwards into the water, she disappeared below the surface. Tearing at
the duct tape with her teeth, she managed to free her hands. Lungs bursting,
she broke the surface, gasping for air. The boat continued on and she struck
out for the pier, energized by her improbable escape. Glancing over her
shoulder, she groaned aloud as the boat made a sharp turn, accelerating back
toward her with a burst of power. The man in the passenger side was half
standing in the boat, eyes dark with rage.

“Stupid
woman!” A hand snaked out, grabbing the strip of leather that held her necklace
together. Pulling her roughly into the boat he stood over her, watching her
every movement. The stones on the necklace had cut painfully into her throat,
but she glared at him defiantly, meeting his gaze with a cool disdain she
didn’t feel. She’d been frightened before. Now she was terrified. Combing her
damp hair with her fingers, she tried to regain her composure. Her hand dropped
to her throat, and she straightened the necklace. The saltwater had loosened
the knot, and it was in danger of falling from her neck. An idea came to her
and she turned her head aside, afraid that the man would spot the small glimmer
of hope she knew must be on her face.

Flanked
by the two men, she climbed out onto the deserted pier, her eyes casting around
for someone–anyone who could help her. The pier was deserted. They shoved her
roughly into the back of a windowless van and slid the door closed. She was
shivering uncontrollably, as much from fear as from her wet clothes. With
trembling fingers she loosened the necklace and cupped it in her palm.

After
driving for a minute or two the van stopped, and the door was flung open.
Garlic Breath motioned roughly for her to get out. Squinting against the sudden
light, she crawled out and stood looking around. The van had pulled up in front
of a square, windowless building.