Out of the Storm (23 page)

Kylie was always with one of them or in the small store room in the back. Eric had outfitted it with a small TV, aero bed, table where she could draw, and a generous assortment of toys. There was no outside access except through the main entrance. All this was far from a foolproof answer to the threat to Ashley, but it was all Eric could do till some word came from the detective or Lip. Preferably both.

Eric was buoyed by the thought that these people had gone to great lengths, including murder, to insure their anonymity. That made some Wild-West-style daylight assault on the marina very unlikely. Even an attack on the open road seemed a low probability. Too many people around on the last day of a holiday weekend.

What he worried about was at night in the house. Their pristine, isolated location lent itself to a nighttime assault. But they couldn’t just hit the house with an RPG. That wouldn’t get them the backup media he was sure Ashley had used. She was savvy
and
street-smart. Ashley hadn’t shared it, probably to protect him, but Eric guessed she had a backup storage device in a safe place. If anything happened to her she must have done something, had some backup plan so it would fall into the right hands. No, they needed her alive and Eric didn’t want to think about what they might do to get her cooperation. Frightening thoughts brought a picture of Kylie to mind as a nightmare from his last year in Afghanistan came to mind.

A serene, tiny village thirty clicks northwest of Kabul. A peaceful, friendly place whose only crime was providing sustenance for a Ranger company the week before. Word of sudden and brutal Taliban activity had brought Eric’s team and another from their base camp. They surrounded, then entered the village from two sides…a double envelopment. Eerily silent. Huts deserted. Twenty families, their livelihood nothing more sinister than raising a few dozen sheep. In the ancient village square, surrounding the well that had provided water for centuries were the bodies of the townspeople, hanging grotesquely. All dead. Their deaths had not been quick. The village elder hung above the rest, spread eagled, on the cross beam that held the pulley for the well. But the final sight, the one that never left Eric’s memory, the one that drove him to question everything he’d ever learned or been taught about God and humanity was that of the chieftain’s youngest daughter. Only eight or ten. Not much older than Kylie. Her unspoiled face wore a smile as if resting in a state of peaceful repose as it stood, severed from its frail young body. Impaled on the end of a crooked stake…

“Boss. Hey boss.” Bobby stood over him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Eric sat at attention, cleared his throat as he looked up at his friend. “I’m fine,” he managed as he stalked off. The vision remained. Despite the terror of combat, Eric always believed he’d survive, that right would prevail. Or he had. He’d learned better. But suddenly he desperately wanted to believe again. Not just for his sake but for Ashley and Kylie.

Instead of his usual sandwich run, Eric sent Rocco, the college kid who was helping with the gas dock for the summer. He sat down in one of the deck chairs on display. Ashley looked out of her office and gave him a half-smile just as Bobby came in.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on here?” He sat down next to Eric. Bobby was a quick study. Eric knew he wanted the whole story...the rest of what he told him last night.

Eric scanned their surroundings. Seeing they were alone he began, “She’s in big trouble.” He nodded toward Ashley. “Turns out she’s a computer whiz who happened across some top-secret files.”

“No shit.” Bobby’s jaw dropped. He whistled as he looked toward Ashley.

Eric nodded. “It’s looking like she stumbled into some deep-cover operation. Must have seen something she shouldn’t have and they want to…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“Who’s they? The government?” Bobby asked.

“No.” Eric shook his head. “Trust me. This is definitely a rogue operation. They called this morning.”

“They had the balls to call your
house?
”

Eric looked around then leaned closer. “It was something out of a bad thriller novel,” he said quietly. “Ashley was really spooked.”

Bobby stood and gave Eric a slap on the back. “I’m here for you, and for her.” He nodded toward the yard. “We all are.”

“Thanks.” Eric held out his hand and took his friends. “But for now let’s stick to the boyfriend story.”

“Okay,” Bobby agreed. “What about that sea trial with the guy from New York?”

Eric looked toward Ashley. “I’ll see how she’s doing. If she’s really spooked, I was hoping you’d take it for me.”

As Bobby headed back to the yard, Eric crossed the boat store and knocked on Ashley’s door.

“Hi,” she said. Her usually fluid accent trembled. “Come in.”

He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and walked the few feet to her desk. She stood, took two steps, and fell into him. Eric pulled her tightly to him and kissed her hair.

She shook as her arms surrounded him. “I’m frightened.”

“Ashley, I won’t let anything happen to you or Kylie.”

Eric turned her face up gently and kissed her lips softly.

“I promise.” He summoned his best smile.

Ashley clung to him.

There was a knock on the door. Rocco announced he had their sandwiches.

“Do you want to eat in here today?” Eric asked.

“No.” Ashley shook her head. “Let’s get Kylie. I want to eat by the water. I’m sick of running.”

As they ate Eric explained he had a potential buyer coming for a sea trial on the thirty-seven-foot Bertram cruiser. A sale could mean a $20,000 commission. But that meant nothing if something happened to the girls while he was away. He’d never repeat that mistake.

“I want you to go,” Ashley said without hesitation. “We have to live our lives. I spent weeks thinking someone would find us, hurt us. Now that we’re together, things will be all right. I know it.” Ashley leaned her head on his shoulder, giving him the same adoring look she had in the Jeep.

Eric felt his throat tighten. “You’re sure?”

Bobby reached across and took his friend’s hand. “Nothing’s gonna happen to this young lady while I’m around.”

“Thanks.” Eric nodded at his friend.

Ashley was right. Suppose the police drew a blank and Lip had gone dark on him. They had to deal with this as if they were completely alone. It was possible they were. Eric knew he had to find a solution. They couldn’t spend the rest of their lives hiding in the shadows or running away. No. That wasn’t why he’d spent five endless years fighting in the desert.

“Okay,” he said. Leaning over he kissed Ashley on the cheek. “Be careful. I got the impression from the phone call that these people may be desperate.”

Bobby stood and pointed toward three men who were heading toward the office. “Those must be the guys. Go. We’ll be fine.”

Eric turned and saw the men. He stood and started toward them, stopping to look at Ashley and Kylie. “Remember what I said before.” He looked at Bobby. “Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

Eric grinned and smiled at the girls as he headed toward the office.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The three men went into the boat store where Rocco sat behind the desk. Eric watched as the boy pointed at him. They turned as he entered.

The older of the men took a step toward him and held out his hand. “Eric?”

“Yes, sir.” Eric took the man’s hand. He was fiftyish, maybe older but looked in great shape. No middle-aged spread on his six-foot-plus frame. “Mr. Carson?”

“Guilty as charged.” The man smiled warmly and nodded.

He turned and gestured to the men with him. They stepped toward Eric. Both looked younger than Carson—ten, maybe fifteen years. And like him they looked as if they’d spent more than a few hours at the gym.

“Dan Richter.” The taller one with sandy hair said as he shook Eric’s hand.

“Colin O’Brien,” the second man volunteered. He was stocky with a neat reddish beard.

“I didn’t know you were bringing anyone else.” Eric surveyed the three men, hoping they were who they claimed.

A clairvoyant Bobby appeared with the brawniest member of the yard crew. “Everything all right, boss?” He stood in the doorway, stance squared.

Carson looked at Bobby, then at his companions. “Did we happen on something we shouldn’t have?” His tone was even, conversational as he watched Eric.

Eric waved Bobby away. “Everything’s fine, Bob.” He turned toward Carson and his friends. “I’m sorry. We have a…a situation, Mr. Carson. We didn’t expect anyone but you.”

Carson nodded and showed a casual smile. “Sorry we caused a commotion.” He chuckled as he turned toward his companions. “Dan’s my wife’s younger brother. Spent a few years in the Coast Guard. I thought he could give me some sage advice. I’m a novice when it comes to this boating thing.” He nodded at the heavier man. “Colin’s a partner in my firm’s Edinburgh office. He’s here on holiday. You know those folks across the pond. They’re always on holiday.” He gave the younger man a slap on the back. They all laughed.

“So I’ve heard.” Eric managed a smile, watching them. It was in the high seventies but all wore expensive waist-length cotton jackets—zipped up tightly.

“What does your firm do, Mr. Carson?” Eric asked.

“Import-export,” Carson volunteered.

“Sounds interesting.” Eric laughed inwardly. Every international hood and intel operative he’d ever known used import-export for a cover. It gave them freedom of movement and didn’t require much in the way of specific job expertise.

“Well, how about that sea trial?” Eric gestured toward the door.

“Lead the way, Eric.”

Eric picked the keys off the board in the storeroom and headed to the door. “After you, gentlemen.”

The four assembled on the Bertram’s flying bridge. The sky was a high blue with a few lonely clouds dotting the western horizon. Carson explained again that he wasn’t much of a boater but told Eric that he’d always wanted to own a first-class cruiser. A Bertram fit the bill. Carson sat next to Eric while he explained the helm controls.

“What you have to learn first is how to control her. This cruiser has twin engines. That makes it a lot easier. You’ll be getting her in and out of tight spots in no time.”

Dan stood close by, nodding as Eric gave his customer a brief tutorial.

“She has everything you could imagine in terms of safety and electronics. But for now, let’s focus on the throttles and the gear shifts.” Eric pointed to the four chrome levers on either side of the wheel. “You want to give it a try?”

“Thanks, son, but I’d feel safer if you got us out of traffic. I’ll wait till we’re out in the ocean before I give it try.”

Dan looked at Eric and winked.

Eric started the powerful diesels and easily maneuvered out of the dock complex. Carson remained next to Eric while his friends stood casually holding onto the stainless steel supports that held the Bimini top in place.

“You know what you’re doing,” Carson observed with an appreciative nod.

“Thanks. Like I said—it’s just like riding a bike. It takes practice and once you master it, you’ll never forget. You can turn a boat with twin engines on a dime,” Eric repeated as he entered the channel and headed toward Nantucket Sound slowly. “Where do you want to go?”

“Oh, down the river to the sea. Then out a couple of miles. I trust your judgment. I’d like to try the controls when we’re safely away from everyone.” Carson looked at his companions and chuckled.

“Kinda warm. You want to shed those jackets?”

“Thanks. We’re fine,” Carson said. The others nodded, wearing easy smiles. The zipped jackets still made Eric uneasy but they’d shown no sign of anything suspicious.

They made the mile to Nantucket Sound at the six-knot speed limit in ten minutes and headed out the channel to the red number two buoy two miles offshore.

“They told me at the coffee shop you’re a veteran. Special Forces.” Carson said, looking impressed.

“That’s right. Five years.”

“Thanks for your service. Did a few years myself. They told us you were an officer?”

Eric nodded and punched both throttles simultaneously to bring the Bertram up to twenty knots. He swung the big cruiser to the left and headed east toward Monomoy, a peninsula extending south from Chatham on the Cape’s southeast coast.

“Now, this cruiser’s equipped with a system to synchronize the throttles.”

Carson looked mystified.

“So you use one throttle for both engines. They’ll be balanced in terms of RPMs and speed. Makes it much easier to control,” Dan explained as he stepped over.

“If you say so.” Carson nodded, adding, “You were an officer?” he asked Eric again.

“Yes, sir. An officer and a gentleman,” Eric said with a hollow laugh.

“Five years. That’s a long time. Guess it was enough?”

“More than enough.” Eric found his customer’s eyes. They were steel-gray and held no humor. The small hairs on his neck stood up. They’d done nothing to arouse his suspicion, but Eric had a strange feeling about where this conversation was headed.

“You know, I think you were right about these jackets.” Carson looked around at his friends. He nodded to them, then stood. They all unzipped their jackets slowly. Each wore a holster in his belt. At a glance, Eric could tell their automatics were 9mm. Glocks like his. The older man maneuvered around Eric and pushed the throttles down quickly while he put the gear shifts in neutral.

“I know what you’re capable of, son. Your 201 file and record are here on my iPhone.” He held up the device. Eric could see his name and information on the small screen. “But I don’t want to pull on you.” The man’s hand rested easily on the stock of his weapon. “I use hollow points. Kinda messy. And I don’t miss.” The men with Carson had flipped off the hammer locks on their holsters and had their hands on their weapons. “So if you want to get back to Ashley and Kylie in one piece, I think it’s time you let me take over.”

Eric studied them. Carson or whoever he was had called it. These men were no amateurs. He could take down the old man, maybe one of the others, but three? No way.