Chapter 7 #3
Declan sighed. “Because my technology can be used to create supersoldiers. And obsidite is the vehicle that makes that processing happen.”
“And you stole the program.”
“I rerouted it into a more secure, out-of-the-Russian-Mafia’s-hands location.”
“But you have it.”
“I have a backup copy.” He scrubbed his hands down his face.
Austen wanted to reach out and take his hand. But whatever this man was into, she just didn’t know if she possessed enough bandwidth for it. She liked her simple, although currently homeless, life. “You live a complicated life, Declan.”
He looked over at her, grimaced. “Yes, I do, I guess.” He straightened. “All we have to do is get back to land. I have people, and we can fix this.”
Steinbeck looked at him. “Are you kidding me? How are you going to fix this?”
Declan drew in a breath, clearly fighting a retort. She could almost see the Marine in him, stoic, unmovable. “I’m going to find my ship and make sure the cargo is destroyed.”
What? “Didn’t you say you were using it for medical advances and a cancer cure and helping people find healing? Those seem like pretty good uses.” She turned to him. “You can’t control whether bad people take your good program and use it to do evil.”
Steinbeck stood with one knee on the seat, not looking back.
“No,” Declan said. “But it is my responsibility to do whatever I can to make sure that evil doesn’t win.”
“Evil doesn’t win.” Austen wished Steinbeck would turn, because she wanted to say, See? Good guy. Not a terrorist .
Maybe Steinbeck heard her twin-ESP, because he shook his head, glanced at Declan. “What about all the deals you made with the Chinese and the North Koreans and the Russians in Barcelona?”
“What deals?”
“Don’t lie to me. I have a source who told me that you were thinking of selling the program to one of them.”
Declan’s mouth opened. Then, quietly: “For medical purposes. I wouldn’t think of giving them defense capability.”
“But like you said, you can’t control how people are going to use it,” Steinbeck said. He glanced at Austen and wore his own see? expression.
She glared at him as he added, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Declan looked away as Austen flinched.
They drove in silence.
Finally, Declan turned to her. “My mom was a nurse. All I ever wanted to do was help people the way she did.”
“That’s why you brought Farid to America and why you purchased the orphanage and why you’re involved in so many charity organizations,” Austen said.
“Yes,” he said. “Thanks for noticing.”
Then he smiled, and for some reason, all of the chill of the night whooshed out of her, warmth settling into her bones. So what that he was a complicated man? Maybe she could figure out how to do complicated.
“Phoenix is slowing,” Steinbeck said as he throttled back. “I think she’s out of gas.” He looked at the gauge. “We’re low too.” He looked back at Declan. “Don’t your people keep these things topped off?”
“Hunter and Elise spent an entire day on the Jet Skis, and I used the tender to search the ocean for Austen. But we should have extra fuel on board.”
He got up and went to the front, then picked up a plastic can and shook his head.
For a second, he looked like he might toss it into the sea in fury.
He came back, sat on the bench. “Sorry. No one anticipated a run for shore in the tender. We’re probably another thirty or forty miles away at least.”
“Maybe we’ll cross paths with a cruise ship before we run out of gas,” Austen said. “I’m in for the all-you-can-eat buffet.”
Steinbeck didn’t say anything, and Declan’s expression remained stoic.
“Really? That was kind of funny.”
They’d pulled up beside the Jet Ski, now just floating in the water. Phoenix looked over at Steinbeck. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”
“I thought we talked about this ditching-us thing. Just can’t get it out of your system, can you?”
Her mouth tightened. She held up her hands as if in surrender. “Are you going to invite me aboard?”
Steinbeck gestured with his head, and she climbed up the back of the boat and onto the seat beside Austen.
“You okay?” Austen asked.
“Super fantastic,” Phoenix said. Then she glanced at Steinbeck. “For the record, it’s not that I ditched you as much as...”
Steinbeck raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, I ditched you.”
“Where were you going?” Stein asked.
“I don’t know. South? I figured I’d hit land eventually.”
Just once, Austen would like an absolute. Steinbeck kept the boat moving south.
“Hey,” Phoenix said, “what’s the worst that can happen? We end up stranded in the ocean?” She smiled at Austen.
“Not funny.”
Phoenix lifted a shoulder. “Trying.”
“Steinbeck said you were a spy. Really?”
Phoenix narrowed her eyes at Steinbeck. “Thanks.” She turned back to Austen. “I’m not a spy. I’m a problem solver.”
“Whatever,” Steinbeck growled.
“I don’t understand. How did you end up on my boat?” Declan asked.
“It was just a gig to get me off Mariposa.”
“What were you doing on Mariposa?”
She made a face. “Oh, just... you know... saving Steinbeck’s life.”
“Seriously?” Steinbeck had started for shore, the motor kicking up.
“What do you mean, saving Steinbeck’s life?” Austen said. She glanced at her brother. “That’s when you were shot.”
“Yes,” Phoenix said. “He got himself shot and lost a lot of blood, and he had a little hemothorax going, so I sneaked into the Russian Mafia camp and liberated a four-wheeler.” She looked at Steinbeck. “A guy could be more grateful.”
“A guy might not have gotten shot in the first place if he hadn’t followed you into a smuggler’s tunnel. If he hadn’t caught you stealing from Declan’s safe.”
“What?” Declan said.
“She stole your AI program,” Steinbeck said.
Declan’s mouth opened.
“Copied it, thank you.” She glared at Steinbeck. “Stein got trapped underground with me. And we might have caused a little ruckus with the Bratva on the way out.” She looked at Declan. “Nice friends you have.”
“They’re not my friends—but why would you steal it?”
“Only a billion reasons, all with dollar signs after them. But mostly so we could create a virus and stop you from destroying the world.”
Silence descended over the boat as the motor hummed.
Declan nodded. “Not a terrible idea. It’s always good to have a fail-safe.”
And again, see? A terrorist wouldn’t think that they should create a solution for world-ending destruction.
Phoenix’s mouth hung open. Then she got up and moved to the side of the tender, near the front captain’s seat, leaving Austen and Declan on the bench seat.
Declan turned to Austen. “I really am sorry I got you into this. I was hoping for a nice two-day cruise down to Mariposa.” His gaze scanned her face, and he offered a small smile. “I thought it would be a nice way to get to know you better.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing like being taken hostage and escaping from the Mafia to really get to know somebody,” Steinbeck said.
“Stop, Stein,” Austen said. “He couldn’t know that the Bratva were going to chase him down or that you were going to dive in like some unwanted superhero to save the day.”
“Unwanted?”
“Thank you,” Declan said as he held up a hand. He turned back to Austen. “I did screw up, Austen. And for that, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll be smarter. More than one step ahead of them.”
She frowned. “How?—”
“There’s a boat ahead,” Steinbeck said, and Declan sat up as the boat came into view. Lights shone along its deck, and in the darkness, the form looked like a small cargo ship, or a large fishing trawler.
“We’re down to the E ,” Steinbeck said. “Maybe we can get them to see us.”
He flashed his lights. Over the water, a low moan sounded. Then another.
“I guess it’s better than the drink,” Declan said, but his jaw was tight.
They pulled up next to the boat, and a couple of men leaned over the side. It was a deep-sea fishing trawler. The crew let down a rope ladder.
Phoenix grabbed it as she looked back at Steinbeck. “You sure we don’t have enough gas?”
He nodded his head.
Phoenix climbed up first, then shouted down and gestured for Austen.
Austen went hand over hand up the ladder to the top and climbed on deck where a handful of men stood.
Another shout, and she thought maybe Declan was coming up.
The boat wasn’t as big as Declan’s yacht, but a pilothouse rose in the front, and stairs led off the deck, probably down to the crew quarters.
Three large hatches were closed with a number of empty nets piled in the middle, the stink of brine lifting from them.
Declan shook hands with one of the sailors, speaking to him in Spanish. He smiled, although it looked a little tight, and nodded while they shared a small conversation.
Then Declan moved over to Austen. He slowly reached out and took her hand. Then he pulled her away as Steinbeck got on the boat.
Stein walked over to Declan.
Austen watched the captain come out of the pilothouse and down the stairs.
“Do not tell him that you were in the military,” Declan said quietly.
Steinbeck frowned. “Okay. Why?”
“Because this ship is on its way to Cuba.”
What? Oh brother . The action movie simply continued.