Nelson pointed his own gun Ian’s way. “Give me the laptop.”
Ian didn’t move. “Give me my girl.”
Nelson grabbed her arm, hauling her to his side. “I’m going to give you your girl the same way I did before if you don’t hand me that laptop.”
“It’s useless without the password. The system has been encrypted to erase the hard drive if you put the wrong password in more than three times. I hope you’re good at guessing, Nelson.” He handed the laptop over to one of the pirates.
“All right. I’ll need the password then. If I have to, I’ll take you with me and I’ll have fun torturing it out of you. Or you could just watch me rape your little whore here. I’ve always had a thing for her.” His hand moved up her torso, nearly to her breast, but she remained still because that gun was oh so close to her brain. “Yes, I think torturing her will be a more effective way to get you to talk. Or maybe I could get two for the price of one. Tell me something, Tag. Where’s that snot-nosed baby brother of yours? I know he’s on the boat. Did you hide him away?”
A smirk lit Ian’s face. “No, I’m distracting you so he can get away.”
There was the sound of an engine gunning and then out of the corner of her eye, she saw something jet out of the yacht’s garage moving at a high speed. She turned and a jet ski was skimming along the surface of the water in a straight line.
“Fuck.” Nelson turned, his attention going to the bow of the boat. “Open fire. Stop that jackass. I want him dead.”
Ian’s hands moved faster than she could track. He bent over and when he came back up, a knife was flying across the room, finding a place in one of the pirates’ neck. The man’s hand was on his gun, and as he fell his finger spasmed, sending a line of bullets into the man beside him.
Both fell, dead, on the floor.
Three left. And very little time. Ian didn’t know about the bomb. He didn’t know that Nelson could still take them all down.
He kicked out as the bullets started to fly.
Charlie brought her elbow forward and then back, catching Nelson in the chest. He groaned and stumbled, giving her just enough time to make it out the side door. Complete chaos rained down on them. From the bridge, the sound of gunfire racked the room.
She glanced back and saw blood staining Ian’s left leg, but he’d gotten a gun and he was moving down the stairs.
Jumping over the railing, she took only a second to judge the distance between her and the water.
Then fire lit her and sent her careening over the edge. At the last minute before she fell, she managed to kick off the railing and gain the momentum she needed. She tried to control the dive, but the pain in her arm was burning.
A bullet. She’d taken a bullet.
She hit the water with a whoosh and the world above went quiet. Light filtered down into the water, a lamp by which to see. Something started to cloud the liquid around her.
Blood. Her blood. How bad was it? It didn’t matter. She gritted her teeth because she had to find that bomb.
Above, the sounds of battle were muffled as though they were so far away, but she knew every moment counted. Nelson and Ian were trying to kill each other. She had to get back on the yacht and help her husband.
She forced herself to move, though her lungs were already burning. She moved from the light into the shadows where the pirate ship touched the yacht. Instinct told her to move away. The boats were so close together they formed a tight little space. Too tight. But she had to force herself to stay calm.
Surfacing, the sounds of battle rushed back to her, but she had to take the chance that Ian was keeping Nelson occupied. In between the two boats, they might not even see her. She was tiny compared to the two boats that bobbed around her.
Her arm ached and bled, but it looked like a through and through. The white surface of the yacht’s hull was in front of her, the only thing marring it a large cake of C-4 that had been attached by one of Nelson’s hired goons.
She forced herself to swim between the boats. So tight. The space seemed too small, but she turned her face upward and breathed in. She could do this.
She’d thought to send it to the bottom of the ocean, but a much better plan occurred to her.
The cake pried off in her hand. She turned to the pirate boat. It was a simple thing to toss the explosive up and over the side. There was a little thunk as it hit the deck. She prayed no one was watching, that everyone was on board the yacht.
Suddenly, the pirate ship shifted as a wave hit them. Charlie was caught between the two and sent headfirst into the yacht’s hull.
Pain bloomed in her skull and then she could see the water all around her. It was quiet again and she was floating. The pain seemed to be gone. She knew her lungs were trying to work, but it seemed far off and darkness was just on the outer edge of her consciousness.
The first time she’d died, all she could think about was what she would miss, all the things she hadn’t done. Regret had blanketed her. Death had been a cold, dark place.
It was different now. As the world started to go dark, all she could see was him. Her Master. All she could feel was the way he’d cared for her, how vibrant and beautiful the world had been in the end.
This time when she died, she realized another truth. At the end, there was love. Love for him. Love for her.
Death was so much easier the second time around.
* * * *
Ian cursed as Charlie went over the side of the yacht, but there was very little he could do about it because he was pinned down on the main deck. He’d managed to jump down from the bridge and take up a tactical position, but Nelson still had him caught and he’d called for reinforcements.
And he had the fucking laptop. Ian had lied about the security. There hadn’t been time to do anything beyond getting the king and his cousin to the garage. Jiang Kun was fitting them with scuba gear to get them the fuck off this coffin.
Luckily all the furniture on the boat was nailed down. Ian was behind a large chaise where the king probably did his little harem on a regular basis. It was sturdy enough for two and provided decent cover.
Anxiety knotted his gut as he popped up and laid out another round of fire. It was immediately met, and he took a slug across his shoulder. It burned but the bullet hadn’t done more than broken the skin. The bullet in his thigh was another matter. It was buried deep and bleeding like a motherfucker.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to swim very far.