The Miami Contract #3
Simo considered his choices: climb up, exposed, try to take out whoever he came across and get Ari cover; or take the ride to wherever they were headed.
Without a second thought, Simo pointed up, pulled his legs up, and managed to get first one foot on the bottom rung, then the other.
He poised himself, took one deep breath, and drove his legs down hard, propelling himself up with one hand on his Colt Commando pointing forward.
With his finger on the trigger, he burst out of the water, ripped off his swim mask, and pointed his Colt Commando submachine gun up the stairway toward the rear sundeck. Nothing. No one was on watch.
He scanned the area, knowing his black wetsuit would set him off against the bright white paint of the yacht.
No one was visible. Over the hum of the big diesels buried down inside the huge yacht, he heard music playing…
and laughter. Keeping an eye up the stairway and his Colt pointed there, he squatted down, grabbed Ari’s arm, and began hauling him up.
Together they huddled inside the curving stairwell, weapons ready.
In a quiet whisper, Simo spoke. “It sounds like a party.”
“Indeed.”
“Crash it?” Simo smiled.
Ari smiled back and nodded.
“Stay on my six,” Simo commanded as he quickly spun a suppressor on his Colt in the hopes of concealing his shots.
Together they moved as one up the stairs.
From behind the hot tub, they skirted low, using the outdoor furniture as cover from the large glass doors that led into the main parlor.
They went around the side of the yacht and kept low against the white outer wall of the rear parlor.
Simo paused as the music stopped and listened to voices coming from inside.
“Those fuckers were so stupid!” came a jubilant voice from inside.
Ari patted Simo’s shoulder and whispered, “That voice is Little Tony’s.” Simo nodded.
Then, from inside, a New York-accented voice chuckled loudly. “Boss. You sure showed them stupid assholes!”
“Of course I did!” Little Tony laughed. Then he called out jubilantly, “Hey baby! Come here and sit with me!”
Simo heard the sounds of females giggling.
“We shoulda sank her…” a different, but calm voice warned.
“Fuck them, let their bodies burn!” Tony laughed.
“Tony, we needed to stay on the scene. The Coast Guard…” said the calm voice.
“Fuck them. Tell them we had a fucking emergency. We did our part to look for bodies. Fuck them.”
“It is the law to remain…”
“Fuck the law. It doesn’t apply! I said we had a fucking emergency!” Tony shouted. “If you don’t wanna fucking celebrate then go fuck off.”
“Sorry, Tony,” replied the calm voice.
“Let’s party! Come on!” Tony shouted.
Simo heard a few different male voices as well as a total of three female voices.
He held up five fingers at Ari, then three.
Ari nodded and pointed at himself. Then the music came back on, and Ari whispered into Simo’s ear.
“I’ll take lead this time… women in there.
” He saw Simo begin to balk at his suggestion. “It’s an order,” Ari stated firmly.
Simo nodded and reversed direction, following Ari’s lead back to the rear of the yacht.
Ari readied himself behind the white wall that supported the upper deck.
He peered around the wall with cat-like quickness, looked into the sixteen-foot by eight-foot darkened glass, and popped his head back.
Ari pointed to the port side and held up three fingers and pointed at Simo.
He then pointed to the starboard side, held up five fingers then one more, then pointed at his chest.
Simo nodded.
Ari nodded and rolled out onto the gorgeous teak deck, his Colt Commando at the ready. Taking aim, he began firing bursts into the glass.
Simo stepped out, saw his targets spin toward them in shock, fired off three short bursts, sending glass and bullets into the three men.
Ari rushed inside as screaming erupted from the parlor and fired off a burst. Simo simultaneously fired a burst of angry bullets, downing an armed man coming into the parlor from the interior hallway.
Ari pointed his Colt at the four remaining living people in the parlor. “Hello, Mr. Marinaro. You missed me.” Ari chuckled.
Simo collected all the dead men’s firearms, then covered the interior entrance while keeping an eye out, as Ari continued speaking.
“Ladies, if you would please, move away from Mr. Marinaro…”
Simo gestured to the bikini-clad beauties to move toward him. With fear shaking their trembling bodies, they collectively made their way over and huddled tightly together.
Little Tony looked around in utter shock at all his dead friends and security guards. Finally, he focused and bellowed, “Who the FUCK do you think you are?”
Ari smiled wickedly. “Ah… who am I? I am the real owner of Aurae.”
“You? No fucking way. You—you are that Hollywood producer. Uh…”
Ari interrupted Tony with his dry laugh. “You may call me Mr. Grimm.”
“Well fuck you, Mr. Grimm!” Little Tony began to lunge off the couch at Ari. Before it could register with Tony, Ari stepped in and, left-handed, punched Little Tony in the jaw, knocking him out cold.
Ari stared down at him, then stepped across the dead bodies, and turned off the stereo. He turned to the women and pointed his Colt at them. “Ladies. We have a conundrum.”
“W—what’s a con—conundrum?” one brunette stuttered.
Ari’s dark eyebrow arched high. “You all have seen much too much.”
The women started crying as they huddled closer together, trembling with fear.
“W—we won’t say anything…”
“Shh,” Ari ordered and looked at Simo. “Please instruct the captain to sail to our end destination.”
Simo looked at Ari, then to the huddled women, and back at Ari.
“It will be fine.”
Simo reluctantly nodded, turned, and left to find the pilot house.
Ari kept his Colt and his eye on the women as he walked back to Tony and swiftly zip-tied and gagged him.
Focusing all his attention onto the women, he sighed heavily.
“Ladies… our conundrum is that you have seen my face, heard who I am, and know what has happened here. It would be best if I just murdered you all and was done with it…”
“W—we promise… we won’t say anything! We know the deal…” said the brunette as she pointed at Tony. “We all have seen the things he did… we know the rules or… or we end up being alligator dinner as Tony threatened.”
Ari nodded thoughtfully. “Murdering such beauty would be a travesty, but…”
“PLEASE, Sir!” they all cried together, as Ari took aim at them.
After a few tense moments, Ari sighed with a wry smile.
“Very well. When my man returns, I will require your IDs, your social media, your families’ names, and even the names of your pets.
Should any of you break your promise to me...
all of you, including your families, will suffer the consequences.
Do we have an understanding? I want to hear each of you say it. ”
Each one in turn promised and stated they understood.
“Now, ladies, let’s have a chat about Mr. Marinaro and what you have seen…”