Chapter 45
Lillian
The sun blazes in a cloudless blue sky as Dante pulls the van to the curb in front of the River Walk entrance. Climbing out first, he slides the side door open, letting in a furnace blast of heat.
Squinting, I take his offered hand and climb out. “Is everyone in place?”
“Yeah. Except you.” He uncurls his fingers, revealing the miniature devices. Pinching one from his palm, I slide it into my ear, tape a mic to my chest, then check the comms.
“Testing. Test. Can you guys hear me?”
“Mr. Balls, here.”
“Mace. Copy.”
“Daedalus. You’re coming in clear.”
Once Dante confirms his connection, he walks me down the stairs, past the umbrella tables and storefronts. When we arrive at the infamous waterway, he passes me the canvas bag containing my father’s laptop.
“You know what to do?” He scans my face for second thoughts, but I am determined to end this.
Swallowing back fear, I nod. “Trust me. I’ve been besting Liam Boyle for years.”
Soon, we reach a flat-bottomed tour boat, the deck surrounded by a bright turquoise railing. Mason, dressed as my guide, reaches for my hand. While he seats me in one of fifteen empty seats, someone raps on the fiberglass underneath my feet.
The bubbles make me smile. Who’d ever guess two men hide beneath the bow?
Dante unwraps our rope, tosses it aboard, then pushes us off.
Leaving just enough room for another craft to pass on the left, the quiet electric motor hums as the boat glides forward.
At any other time, I’d delight in the quaint canal bordered by shops and restaurants where fine mists from overhead foggers cool passersby.
Right now, all I want is for this to end.
Gripping the precious cargo, I steady my breathing while Dante counts down in my ear. “Ten… nine… Cut the engine.”
“Done.” Mace catches my eye. “Ready?”
“Yup.” Heart pounding, I clench the top rail while we drift for what seems like a lifetime.
Where is my father?
I’m about to call it quits when he and his bodyguard emerge from beneath an umbrella and move toward the murky canal, trotting alongside us.
The closest one, a dead ringer for Luis Guzman, says, “Throw me the line.”
“Contact made,” Chin down, Mace whispers to the team.
“Not so fast.” Buying time, clutching the satchel, I inch toward the stern. “We were promised a cure.”
Hard to believe, but my voice doesn’t shake. Yay me.
“Off the boat, now.” My father draws his favorite Russian Soratnik.
When he aims his pistol at me, I dangle his laptop over the foul, muddy stream. “Let’s see if your computer is waterproof.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Once, his tone would’ve scared the bejesus out of me. Today, it’s a challenge I can’t wait to accept.
“The full formula, Father. Now. Or I let go.” I lean further over the railing. “By the way, if you or your friend shoots me, it’s goodbye data.”
While we talk, our vessel drifts closer to him.
That’s it, Daddy Dearest. One more step forward…. Any second now….
Four hands burst from the water, tentacling around two sets of ankles. Arms windmilling, Liam and his bodyguard drop into the fetid stream. When they start to stand, Sean and Daed rise from the knee-deep canal, and handcuff our marks.
Once they’re in handcuffs, I drop the laptop onto the closest chair. Jumping, I pump my fists in the air.
“Yes!” Before I can take a victory lap, bullets zap the water.
“Woman overboard.” Mace grabs my waist and flings me over the railing.
Screaming, I hit the water.
“Ooof.” My back teeth clunk when my butt meets the canal bottom.
“Take cover. Now!” As Mace returns fire, I suck in a lungful of air, duck under the hull, and surface near the propeller.