ROMULUS (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 1) (2 page)

* * *

Victor Rodriguez opened his mouth to order the man on duty to cooperate, but the short bark of José's silenced gun cut Victor off. A deadly missile instantly pierced the mate's forehead, hurling his body backward onto the deck.

Victor's shocked expression turned to fury as he turned on José. "
Te dije que no! Pendijo
." Jerking his head, he quickly surveyed the dock area, assured himself that no one was about then stormed the gangway, leaving José to struggle with their fishing gear.

Victor's anger was not aroused because of the messy murder but because his order to keep everyone on board alive had been ignored. He had intended to force the captain's assistance by threatening the lives of the others on board. He knew from Pete that the captain's wife was on board as the cook. Besides, the crew and the guests would be needed for the upcoming manual labor.

As soon as José joined him on deck, Victor spat out his orders in a Spanish slang he knew the man would understand. "First, stash the body in the cargo hold. We'll dump it after we're out to sea. Second, clean up the mess you made. I can't afford to have anybody slipping and breaking their neck. Third, plant the explosives exactly like on the picture I gave you. Every trace of this yacht and the people on it has to disappear. And then, stand guard at the end of the companionway, just in case any of our
guests
decide to leave their cabins before morning."

Victor spun away from José and took the stairs to the bridge two at a time. Pressing the button labeled Engine Room, he spoke one word into the intercom. "Pete."

A moment later, a sleepy voice responded, "Yeah?"

"It's a go."

Victor's background in seamanship had prepared him for this score. Once he'd recruited Pete, learned the layout of the yacht and obtained the list of passengers and crew, he was ready to put his grand plan into action. Finally, all his patience and hard work would be rewarded.

Although he could feel the engines start to purr, he was confident none of the others on board would detect any change over the steady hum of the generators. They were all in a deep sleep by now, helped along by alcohol or sheer exhaustion.

He eased The Baronette out of the slip and headed for the open sea. No one had seen the yacht pull in, nor now witnessed her smooth departure. Since Pete had destroyed the float plan, Victor also knew that no one at the marina had ever expected them.

Lady Luck was riding with Victor... as usual.

* * *

The stateroom door crashed against the wall and Aster Mackenzie bolted upright in bed. Through sleep-blurred eyes, she saw a Neanderthal of a man enter her room. His hooded black eyes narrowed as he appraised her. She scooted to the corner of the bed against the wall but the man's hand roughly grabbed her ankle and yanked her toward him. He jerked her up, nearly dislocating her shoulder, and pressed the cold metal of a gun to her head.

Aster whimpered in a mixture of pain and fright. "What do you want?"

The silent man pushed her toward the door and, as Aster stumbled into the hall, the door to the adjacent stateroom opened.

"What the fuck..." Dressed in an oversized t-shirt with Minnie Mouse on the front and knuckling her eyes, Cherry Cochran looked like a little girl.

"Harold!" Cherry yelled and turned to dash back into her room. But the cave man pointed his weapon at her and grunted. A moment later her elderly companion joined them in his robe and slippers. He kept silent and obeyed the man's pantomimed orders to head for the bridge.

The three were prodded into the lounge where the other guests and the crew were already gathered. A tall, lanky stranger swaggered toward them and Aster thought he looked Latin, like the man who had dragged her from her cabin, only more evolved. In fact, he looked quite civilized. He grinned, displaying a diamond inset in his upper right incisor. The thin black line of hair over his lip curved upward as his smile broadened.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Aster held her breath as the man circled her and Cherry with a lascivious leer that cut through the surface civility.

"My name is Victor and your escort is José. He speaks no English but his comprehension of body language is excellent."

Victor's body responded to the pleasant surprise of the two women before him. He had been under the impression that the entire group was senior citizens, like the man footing the bill for the charter. His eyes scanned the petite brunette clinging to the arm of one of the old guys. He wondered if the boyish haircut and freckles on her nose were indicative of her innocence or if she had a bonfire hidden under that childish t-shirt. The fearless sparkle in her big brown eyes gave her true nature away.

But it was the tall one who made his blood sing. The wild tangle of long, silver hair topped off the body of a real woman. She met his stare, her dark eyes only inches below his. Ah, this one was afraid but she was also cold as ice. He would see her thaw before this trip ended. He purposely ogled her full breasts trembling beneath her satiny pajamas.

"Now, I have introduced myself to you. I would appreciate a like courtesy."

"Courtesy?" Aster demanded, suddenly finding her voice. "You're holding a gun on us! What's this all about? Drugs?" she sneered at the man but his husky laugh swept through her like a freezing wind.

Victor stepped back and smiled at Cherry. "Perhaps you have better manners. Your names?"

Cherry frowned then nodded at her escort. "This is Harold Leonard, I'm Cherry Cochran and the
lady
you're drooling over is Aster Mackenzie."

Victor's eyes flashed when he heard the last name and looked at Aster again, this time as though something tugged at his memory. He gave José a lengthy order in Spanish and a moment later Cherry and Aster were nudged onto two bar stools and tied together back to back. Harold was lashed to a separate stool next to Cherry.

The young ship's steward, Nick Valentino, and the host of this quiet fishing holiday, Paul Feinstein, were secured a few feet away in the same manner as the two women. When Aster looked directly at Nick, he lowered his eyes, clearly embarrassed by his helplessness. She could see he realized this was one situation where his handsome face and tight butt weren't going to earn him any special consideration.

So what useful assets did she possess to help them out of this situation? A genius IQ, a highly developed sense of organization and a healthy dose of intuition, all of which enabled her to critique a situation and to make an accurate judgment call faster than most of her colleagues. She just needed to calm down enough to think.

"
Senora?
" Victor's polite voice broke into the silent tension of the room as he addressed Betty Basiglio, Captain Johnny's wife. "José will accompany you and Mrs. Feinstein to the galley to prepare breakfast. Keep it simple, if you please."

Like the two older women, the captain had not been tied up but was well-guarded nonetheless.

Victor stationed himself to one side of the bridge, where he could watch Captain Johnny at the helm and keep an eye on all the captives. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic bag filled with white powder. He tucked his gun securely under the arm holding the bag and used his free hand to extract a stiletto from the inside of his calf-high cowboy boot. With an efficiency borne of a long-time habit, he dipped the knife's tip into the bag and brought out a bit of the substance. Carefully, he lifted it to his nose and, with the index finger of his hand holding the bag, he closed off one nostril and snorted the powder deeply into the other. His features relaxed almost immediately and his eyes closed for a second as he enjoyed his self-induced euphoria.

Aster cringed. Victor had appeared quite self-assured when he had first introduced himself, now he might believe he was invincible. She knew what he was feeling, not that she had ever tried it. But her fiancé, Dennis Waverly, had told her in great detail how cocaine affected a user.

Dennis had been an undercover narcotics detective for the San Francisco Police Department long before Aster had met him. When they got engaged a year after they started dating, he promised he would transfer to a safer department. A month later he was dead—shot in the back of the head at close range. Her heart contracted at the memory of that day, six months ago, when she got the call. If Dennis were here, he'd know what to do to save them. He certainly wouldn't sit here reminiscing or feeling sorry for himself.

Victor returned his stash to his pocket but continued to play with his knife in his left hand after he transferred his gun back to his other hand. As if he had heard Aster's thoughts about him, he strode across the room and confronted her. "I know you. I don't remember why yet, but I will." He studied her face intently then slipped the stiletto beneath her hair.

Aster felt the blade touch her throat as he lifted her hair away from her neck. As a fear-inducing technique, it was quite effective. "What do you intend to do with us?" she dared in a voice just above a whisper.

Victor snorted at her attempt to sound courageous. "I had that worked out before I saw you,
lady
. Now I wonder what you'd do to save your pretty neck."

Aster stared at him, unblinking. Years of practice at masking her fears took control.

"I don't frighten you? Then perhaps watching someone else suffer would be more persuasive?" His gun hand whipped up to press against Cherry's cheek.

"Stop it!" Aster shouted. She took a deep breath as he returned his attention to her and lowered both his weapons. "I'll... cooperate. Just leave everyone else alone."

"Is that so?" Victor's sneer was solidly in place. "But I can't even see what I'm bargaining for."

Aster bit her lower lip and turned her head away from him, only to be faced with their reflection in the mirror behind the bar. With the edge of his knife, he slowly sliced through the threads that held the top three buttons on her pajama top.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Nick demanded.

Victor's hand swung through the short space between Aster and Nick. Blood trickled down Nick's throat from the tiny puncture the knife pricked in his chin.

In a heartbeat, the captain pushed his heavy-set form between Nick and Victor. "Is this the way you honor your promises? You said no one else would be hurt if I assisted you with the navigating. Either you keep your hands off my passengers and crew," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "or you can make it the rest of the way by yourself."

The seconds ticked by as Victor and Captain Johnny glared at each other. Victor backed off with a shrug.

"You are quite right,
Capitan
. I'm afraid the sight of this beautiful flower caused me to forget myself. I promised no one would be harmed and I intend to keep that promise, as long as you continue to provide me with your services." He paused and straightened his shoulders. "However, all of you should be warned. I will not tolerate any insolence or attempts at mutiny. If you cooperate, you will survive our departure from this vessel when our business transaction is completed."

Reluctantly, the captain returned to the helm as Victor resumed his previous post and slid the knife back into his boot.

Aster let out a ragged breath. Now she knew why they were still alive. Victor needed the captain's abilities. Her intuition said there was more to it but for now, that was enough. Suddenly in her mind she heard a replay of the captain's words, "No one else would be hurt." Who had been hurt already? Who was missing?

All the guests were accounted for so that left only the crew, two of whom were missing—the first mate and the engineer. The tragic answer popped into her head—Dan, the nice-looking man she'd met when they boarded. The first mate had the night watch. The engineer had surfaced only briefly yesterday and she was fairly certain his vital responsibilities were enough to keep him alive. But Victor had separated him from the others. There would be no help from the engineer. Besides, when she had seen him, he had looked rather sickly, with very pasty skin and long, stringy hair.

She glanced at the captain. He and his wife could be counted on. Both were in their fifties and somewhat overweight, but they seemed strong, energetic and levelheaded. Their mutual contentment was evident to anyone with eyes. Johnny would be fiercely protective if Betty were in danger.

Nick could be useful, if he kept his temper under control. She just hoped there was a brain inside that pretty Italian head.

The Feinsteins were kindhearted sweeties and lavishly generous with their wealth, but those qualities weren't enough to counter their advanced years or the precarious state of Sheila's health.

Harold's age was not as detrimental as his mouth. If he started griping, Victor might be tempted to shoot them all to shut him up. She never understood how Cherry could tolerate his company. A cruise around the world couldn't entice Aster to sleep in the same bed with that man. But, in all fairness, Aster had always been able to afford the kind of things Cherry desired. If only she could have purchased the kind of things Cherry already had.

There was no uncertainty about her and Cherry's abilities. The two of them would do whatever they had to do to help the others survive.

Betty and Sheila returned carrying large trays laden with coffee-service items. José followed them with his pistol in one hand and a large, napkin-covered basket in the other. In spite of the circumstances, Aster's senses responded to the smell of warm bread and fresh coffee.