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He was strong, but not quick enough to prevent it. He’d trusted her, after all, as he hadn’t even braced himself.
And now, she winced as the splash cast droplets over the rail, and she watched Agent Brady’s figure bobbing on the water, holding tightly to the lifebuoy, shaking his hands after her, and sending more water splashing.
She hissed in frustration, pinging the GPS on the coast guard boat to make sure someone came along to pick her partner up. But while he wouldn’t appreciate the wet and the cold, she wasn’t about to bring Saul to that boat.
She’d already seen what sort of firepower these guys had. It had taken every ounce of surprise just to get the drop on Karpov. And Karpov had mentioned this new outfit in town had more firepower.
She wasn’t going to be dealing with just handguns, she guessed. Big money meant big bang.
Automatics? Grenades?
Time would tell. She nodded to herself, refusing to look back again. At least...at first, but then concern prompted her head to swivel. Saul was still bobbing along, moving, kicking, and clearly irritated. But soon she was too far away to make out much about her old partner’s expression.
She’d made the right decision. She knew she had...
Hadn’t she?
She cursed, glancing at Brady’s phone. On the image, the woman was still tied to the chair. A knife was still being brandished, but for the moment, nothing had beencut.By the sound of things from the one-way feed, Mayor Castillo was hastily complying with every single request made by his brother’s henchman.
Cora scowled at the boat in the distance, scything over the water. She hadn’t come armed. Not yet. She’d have to find a weapon of her own on the boat. She didn’t look back now. Saul would be safer. The location had been pinged.
She severed the connection on his phone, tossed it onto the passenger seat, and kept the boat directed towards the much larger, sleek metal and glass hull.
The scent of the ocean, the stretching darkness of the sky as evening bled into night, would have been downright pleasant if she hadn’t known she was heading into the arms of a known killer.
The man who’d killed Janice was likely on that boat. Also, the man who’d given the order.
She knew what Johnny would want her to do. And she was determined, now, to see it through.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Under the cover of night, she bumped against the side of the larger boat, scraping the prow along the side of the vessel and leaving faint, silver marks trailing in the paint.
She winced at the sound but decided the lapping water and the sound of the yacht’s engine would be more than enough to disguise her arrival. She didn’t have the feed open anymore. She didn’t have time to wait either. No message from Saul. Though someone had tried to call her phone twice.
She hoped this was good news.
The FBI was still far behind. Twenty minutes. Maybe fifteen.
She didn’t have time to wait.
And that poor woman trapped on the boat with the knife-wielding maniac also didn’t have any time left to speak of.
Cora grabbed at the metal rungs protruding from the side of the boat, feeling the way her fingers touched against the cool droplets of salty spray. Now, still wearing that stupid dress, she climbed up the side of the boat, one foot at a time. Barefoot now for traction.
She moved slowly and stealthily. The small coast guard boat she’d stolen bobbed against the side of the bigger vessel, tied off to the lowest rung.
She wasn’t sure the thing would survive, but at least it was there in case she needed to make a hasty getaway.
She reached the top rung and peered over the edge of the boat.
Along the deck, she spotted booted feet in motion.
Three men. Patrolling along the edge of a luxury swimming pool illuminated with bright lights under the water. She swallowed, staring at the pool and at the men.
They had automatic weapons in shoulder straps. Grenades and flashbangs. One of them, she noticed, even had C4 and a detonator.
“Holy shit...” she muttered to herself.
