Shark Bait

6. Who’s the other person?

SIX

WHO’S THE OTHER PERSON?

SHARK

The radioactive materials hidden inside the engine room worry me more than I let on.

I know she and the baby are fine since the instruments I use to detect radioactivity sent an alert only this morning, and she spent last night in the living room. I consider this a stroke of good fortune and a warning not to push my luck by lingering on the yacht any longer than necessary.

I’ve contained the radioactive source until professionals come for the vessel, after the pair of us have already taken off. Which is why I check my watch again. I want to leave already. “Our pickup crew arrives in ten minutes,” I tell the lollipop thief, whose name I’ll ask for soon enough.

One hand on her belly, the other on her back, she gets up from the chair and walks over to the safe. “I’m excited to open it. You?”

I nod and help her kneel in front of the safe.

Big green eyes framed in dark lashes gaze up at me. “What else do you think is in there?”

I’m trying to concentrate on the subject at hand and not on how cute she looks down on her knees. “Besides money?”

“Yeah.”

I shrug. “Maybe diamonds.”

Her eyes brighten, and her face beams. “Oooo, I like diamonds. And money.”

I check my watch. “Money likes you too. It wants you to get it.”

“I will. I will in a minute. How much do you think is in there?”

I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

She balls her hands into fists and squeals. Just when I’m sure she’ll open the damn safe right away, there’s another delay, it seems. I check my watch. Time’s ticking away. I can already hear the chopper blades as the rescue crew approaches the yacht from above.

Finally, she rubs her hands together, and slowly, ever so slowly, peers inside the safe. She rears back with a gasp and presses her hands over her red cheeks, which seem to be heating up more and more.

I bend to look inside the safe. Yup, full to the brim. “I’ll grab the bedsheet.”

“There’s a backpack in the closet.”

“Won’t fit.”

“I’ve never seen this much money,” she says.

I strip the bedsheet from the bed and lay it in front of the safe. “Start shoveling the money onto the sheet.”

She’s still kneeling, seemingly in shock, but then she says, “It’s dirty money.”

“And?” Lord, please don’t let her be one of those self-righteous idiots who walks away from cash.

“It should sink with the yacht.”

“Baby, the yacht isn’t sinking, Once the radioactive stuff is cleared out, I’m keeping it. Take the money. You’ve earned it.” I wince. Shouldn’t have said that she’s earned it, but she’s not easily offended, and if she is, I expect her to understand my meaning, but just in case she doesn’t, I add, “For all they’ve put you through, you deserve a paycheck like this. Don’t you think?”

“Not sure. Now that I look at it, I don’t think I want their dirty money.”

I crouch beside her. “You’re taking the money, and I’m going to clean it so it won’t be dirty anymore.”

She winks. “Got ya, Shark. Of course I’m taking it.”

I curse. “You got me good.”

“When you say you’ll clean it, do you mean you’ll wash it for real?”

Ordinary folks don’t know much about money laundering. “In a manner of speaking, yes. A friend of mine runs the best laundromat in the world.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why do I have a feeling you’re not talking about actual washing?”

“Oh, I am. Very much so.”

She tilts her head. “What’s that noise?”

“It’s the chopper. Our cavalry is here, and we have three minutes to show up on the deck before they blow up the yacht.”

Her eyes widen like little green alien saucers. “I thought you’re keeping the yacht.”

“Only if they see I’m alive.” If I don’t show up on the deck, the guys up there will sink it. I need to get up there and warn them off. The weapon I uncovered in the engine room needs to be secured.

“Oh my God, I better hurry up and shovel.”

You think? I don’t say that but nod as she finally gets to work.

“Shark, your hands are as big as shovels. Help me out.”

I kneel beside her and stare at my hands. “They’re not.” My hands are perfectly proportionate. I turn them over.

“Help!”

“Get out of my way.” Gently, I slide her aside over the tile and out of the way so I can move the stacks of cash into the sheet until the safe is empty of all the goods besides one custom-made Nighthawk pistol.

I reach for it, but she grabs it first. She checks if the gun is loaded by popping the magazine and checking for bullets before handing it to me. “Here ya go, Shark. All set. We’re ready.”

We? Nah, I’m not ready. Not at all. That must’ve been one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen a woman do. Or maybe it’s just this woman. I don’t know which. I should figure it out, so I hand her the gun back. “Clear the gun again.”

My gaze is glued to the weapon she’s handling like she grew up with it. Once she’s done, I finally secure the pistol in my waistband.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Give me twenty seconds.” I start my timer and lean in, sliding my hand over her throat to the back of her neck, where I grasp her and tug her toward me.

I can tell she’s surprised because her eyes widen. I should back off, fuck off, leave this woman be, but I can’t help it, I want to kiss her. Slowly, I press my lips to hers. When she doesn’t respond, I try to coax her mouth open for me.

“Kiss me back,” I tell her. “Go ahead. Don’t be afraid. That’s all we’re gonna do. Make out for a few seconds.”

When she groans and closes her eyes, I allow myself to close mine too and enjoy the taste of her on my tongue. She’s sweet. Like a lollipop, like a woman, a gentle one, a funny one, one who could, if I let her, make me a very happy man. But our deranged circumstances set happiness out of our reach, and my timer is about to go off.

Just as well. With the money she’s getting, she’ll be set for life. And I can even give her my heart because we both know she wasn’t joking about that. She was testing me, feeling me out as a lioness tests a potential mate.

I can most definitely give her my body. I can give her everything a man could give a woman, but she doesn’t want it the way I’ll give it to her. In the end, I’m no better than her captors. I’m way worse. It’s just that right now, as she kisses me, she doesn’t know that and I do. That’s why I’m kissing her now. Later, she won’t let me.

My timer’s making noise, and I force myself to pull back and watch her eyelids flutter. I check my watch. Thirty seconds left.

“Happy birthday,” I say as I help her stand. “I don’t know how to bake you a cake, and I have no candles for you to blow out, but you get to keep all the money you can carry up on the deck and onto the chopper with you.”

Wide eyes again. “No way!”

“Way. Ten seconds until we blow to pieces.”

She starts dragging the sheet full of money behind her. “You’re crazy. Legit crazy.” She’s passing the living space and heading for the stairs, but I slip past her and rush up to the deck so she doesn’t see one of the crew members from the hovering chopper holding a bazooka.

Topside, I signal for him to put it away, and once he does, I cheer her on, suppressing my instincts to help her. I love accomplishing tasks. I love hard work and being rewarded for my hard work. Carrying fifteen mil up a flight of stairs is hard work. If she drops it or quits, I’ll help, but otherwise, I let her do it on her own.

The lollipop thief makes it onto the deck, and I give her a small round of applause before facing the man in the chopper. He’s wearing a military uniform with an emblem I recognize. He’s from a group of misfits who came together and formed a mercenary unit. They’re just a handful of guys who mind their own business, which is why Alessio likes using them for this type of work.

“The arranged pickup was for one person,” the man shouts over the roar of the helicopter blades.

I’m aware. Alessio informs people on a need-to-know basis. When I’m not working with Valerina as my handler, I work alone, and since my employment requires me to travel all over the world, I don’t have the luxury of always working with the same rescue crew. This mercenary doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him.

Still, I try. I show him two fingers, indicating there’s been a change of plans.

“Negative. Only one person boards the chopper,” he shouts back, holding up one finger.

“You can’t leave a pregnant woman stranded on a yacht,” the lollipop thief shouts. “Your mama raised you better than that, soldier. Now, put down that rope so my Daddy and I can climb.” She pinches me. “Tell him you won’t leave your daughter.”

“Why daughter?”

“Our age difference. They’ll eat it up.”

I shake my head.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, Shark Daddy. Just don’t leave me out here.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Promise.”

I offer her my pinkie, and we shake on it.

“How much money do you think I have here?” she asks.

“Fifteen mil. Give or take.”

Just when I think she’ll let me handle the cavalry the way I thought of handling this, she shouts, “I’ve got over fifteen million in this sheet. You can have one.”

The soldier nods. “Deal.”

She squeals. “Easier than I thought.”

“You’re leaving me, then.”

“I’m not.” She pales when she realizes what she’s done. A hand covers her mouth, then she looks up at the chopper. “Two people. I’m an addition for a million dollars. Got it?”

A rope drops, and two men descend from the chopper. These guys will take care of the vessel. I brief them while the lollipop thief continues negotiating for both of us to get on the chopper. The mercenary accepts her offer of a million dollars, but I’m certain he won’t board another person, which means she’s going. I’d let her, but if Alessio found out they’d rescued a woman instead of me, the chopper would go up in flames somewhere over the blue sea.

More shark food.

Briefly, I consider eliminating the rescue crew and piloting the chopper myself, but then I remind myself I’m not a random killer. I work exclusively for Alessio and on assignments he hands out based on his judgment. I don’t do personal missions. I don’t ask about reasons. I just execute missions. In that way, I’m a very simple man, doing simple things.

In contrast, a pregnant woman is complicated.

I guess I like complicated things.

Once the mercenary starts using a firm tone with her, I get agitated. Before I put a bullet between his eyes, I rest my hand on her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “I’ve got this.”

I can choose between two options. One, the girl boards, and I stay behind. Two, I call Alessio. I’d rather she board the chopper than talk to Alessio about this situation on the phone. I need to tell him about her face-to-face. Bringing in a stranger, a kidnapping victim whose father is a police officer, into an already delicate situation involving the disappearance of twenty-eight members of an organized crime unit is not a small matter.

It’s an “incident.” One incident Alessio will freak out over. And that’s saying something since Alessio is a measured, controlled man. He hates being blindsided, and this counts as a blindside.

In addition, I never cause incidents. The reason I’m the best is that my work is flawless, reliable, and incident-free.

Once the two rescue crew members take over the yacht, the pilot lifts the chopper higher, readying to leave. Lollipop thief takes out a wad of cash and starts waving it at him, promising a second million.

I snatch the money from her hands and toss it back into the sheet, then grab the rope and hook the sheet onto it.

“Hey, whatcha doing loading that money up? It’s gonna fly away with them!”

“Don’t worry about the money. It’s all yours, I promise, and if they take it, I’ll find them.”

The blades’ wind whips strands of her hair across her face as she stands there, gazing at me with those hopeful green eyes. “What’s the plan, then?”

I look up to check on her money, which is safely inside the chopper. I catch the rope and start to strap her in, hoping altitude isn’t bad for her pregnancy. I’m a little stressed out the climb might hurt her baby. I’m hopeful that these guys must have lifted wounded people before, so one preggo girl shouldn’t prove too difficult.

She moves away.

I step after her. “I need to secure you.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“You must. Trust me, this man won’t let us both up there.” And I can’t shoot them both from down here without crashing the chopper. I also can’t shoot them both because I don’t shoot random people. Only the ones Alessio needs dead. If I’m repeating this, it’ll stick and I’ll get through this day.

“Not leaving without you,” she says again.

“Birthday girl, don’t give me attitude now when we’re pressed for time and I’m this close to completing the entire mission.”

She folds her hands over her belly and pouts. “I’m sticking with you, Shark. You pinky promised.”

Are you kidding me? I throw up my hands. “Fine. I’ll call him. But I promise you, you’ll wish you got in that chopper.”

“You want me to fly away with strangers I don’t know anything about and leave the only person I think can help me get home? I won’t do it, Shark.”

Our eyes lock, and I file away what she’s told me for later. “You don’t really know me either.”

“I know you missed me on purpose. I know you made me tea this morning. I know you remembered my birthday and let me keep fifteen million dollars.”

“And a bag of diamonds,” I add since we’re tallying up my good deeds.

“See?” she says.

What I see is that this woman ought to have a normal life. The best kind of normal life instead of a life that’s just good enough as long as she’s with a man who won’t take advantage of her. But I also see how that’s impossible. No woman in her right mind would click with me. I’m too far gone for someone who hasn’t experienced suffering or fear at the level that changes their perspective on life. This woman suffered. She pretends well, but she suffered.

“Give me a minute,” I say.

From my pocket, I take out my phone and show the man in the chopper my screen as I press a thumb over the app shaped like a triangle. It’s actually a letter A for Alessio. This tells the mercenary I’m calling Alessio directly.

The man takes off his sunglasses, now understanding I’m not just a random billionaire who got lost at sea. I’m showing him I have access to Alessio, who answers on the third ring.

I press the phone to my ear. “I need your help with the rescue mission,” I say.

I can barely hear him over the noise his nephew’s making, and I’m guessing he can barely hear me over the chopper noise.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No.” But thank you for asking.

“What can I help you with?” I hear the confusion in his voice. It’s highly unusual for me to ask for his help or call him during a mission. I report on the mission in person and only if he asks. Sometimes, he reads about it in the papers, so there’s no need to ask how it went.

“I need you to update the rescue crew and tell them they’re picking up two people. It’s me plus one.”

A pause where I think Alessio is moving into a quieter space. I hear a door close and picture him in his office.

“Repeat that,” he says.

“It’s me plus one, Alessio. Tell them to permit two people onto the chopper.”

A lengthy pause. “Who is the other person?”

I turn away so she can’t hear me say, “My wife.”