Dead Man's Land Jack Patterson (classic novels txt) 📖

moments of struggling, Prado broke free and stood up. He hunched over and held his arms out, ready to tussle with the man. Without the element of surprise, Prado liked his chances.

Then the man pulled his gun out.

“All three of you over there,” the man said.

Cal raised his hands and shuffled with Kelly toward Prado. “Do you know this guy?” he asked.

Prado nodded. “Works for my uncle. His name is Javier Acosta.” Then loudly, “He’s a real asshole.”

Acosta puffed his chest out. “What did you think, Prado? You were just going to steal your Uncle Ramon’s money and disappear off this island without any consequences? If there’s one thing you should know by now it’s that there are always consequences.”

He clicked the safety off his gun and continued. “Now, which one of you three wants a bullet first?”

They all stood there silent.

Acosta’s eyes narrowed. “I said, ‘Which one of you three wants a bullet first?’ Or do you want me to decide on my own?”

Cal raised his hand. “I’ll go first.”

“No!” Kelly protested. “Cal, get back here. Don’t let him do this to you.” She turned toward the man. “Surely we can work this out. Do you want money?”

Acosta laughed. “Oh, I always like money. Why don’t you give it to me and then I’ll shoot you?”

“Go to hell,” Cal sneered.

“Or I could shoot your wife first—or maybe I’ll just slit her throat,” Acosta said as he brandished a knife from his pocket. “So, are we all in agreement? Money first, then murder?”

Before anyone could answer, Acosta tumbled to the ground, hit at a good pace by another man. Cal picked up Acosta’s gun and knife. The man jerked up Acosta and started to beat him senseless. In less than a minute, Acosta was bloodied and bruised, unable to stand. He collapsed to the ground and passed out. The man took the weapons from Cal, shoving the gun into the back of his pants and sliding the knife into his pocket.

When the action slowed and the man spun around, Prado gasped—as did Cal.

“Who is that?” Kelly asked.

“Hello,” the man said. “I’m Angel Torres, your captain for tonight’s voyage.”

Prado took a step back. “No way am I getting on a boat with him.”

Torres held both his hands up. “I understand how you must feel. But can’t we let bygones be bygones here? I won’t be taking you anywhere you don’t want to go.”

Before Prado could answer, Ortega jogged up with another man.

“Guerrero?” Prado said as he looked at the other man.

“You know each other?” Torres said. “This could be a reunion cruise.”

Pablo Guerrero nodded. “We played on the Grapefruit Cutters together.”

Torres clapped. “Perfect. Now, let’s get out of here before the police descend upon this place.”

As they all started to follow Torres down the dock, two cars roared toward them with their sirens echoing through the night air.

“Vámonos. Let’s move,” Torres said, breaking into a sprint.

Ortega started to untie one of the ropes and instructed Cal on how to untie the front. Torres fired up the engine.

“Everyone, hold on,” he said.

Several officers stormed down the dock after them. Gunshots rained down on the boat as it sped away.

Torres grabbed his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Cal asked.

Torres nodded. “I’m fine,” he said, still clutching his arm.

Cal tried to get a closer look at his arm before he gasped. “You’ve been shot. Let me help you.”

“Go down in the cabin below. I’m all right.”

Cal watched Torres grimace while guiding the boat away from the island. He looked back toward the island and saw several boats with large searchlights aimed in their direction roar toward them.

Their escape had only begun.

CHAPTER 42

WALLER NURSED A CUP OF COFFEE inside the ship’s galley and played poker with Hampton and a couple of crewmembers. He stared at his royal flush before he decided to call. Everyone folded as he raked the pile of chips toward him.

He looked at the two crewmembers. “I thought you guys would’ve been better than this since you’re at sea all the time,” he said with a wry grin. “Now, Hampton’s got an excuse—he’s just plain stupid. But you two? I don’t know what your problem is?”

Hampton opened his mouth, most likely to deliver a one-line zinger at Waller, when a crewmember stormed into the galley.

“Agent Waller, we have some activity off the shore that might warrant some action,” he said. “Come on up and take a look.”

Waller and Hampton hustled up the ladders and grabbed a pair of binoculars.

“How far off the coast are we?”

“In situations like these, we like to stay at least a half mile outside of territorial waters to avoid any disputes.”

“So, twelve and a half miles?” Waller asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does that look like our guy?”

“It matches the general description of the boat we were given, though it’s hard to be entirely sure.”

Waller nodded. “Do you think we can plot a course to intercept it?”

“We’ll do our best. They’re roughly four miles away now.”

Waller handed the binoculars back to the crewmember. “Let’s move, then. We can’t let them escape.”

Then he froze and handed the binoculars to Hampton.

“Look over there. That can’t be business as usual—not even here.”

Hampton followed Waller’s instructions, looking at the long line of tankers heading straight for Cuba.

“It doesn’t surprise me, but someone needs to know about this.”

CHAPTER 43

CAL COULDN’T STAY IN THE HULL for long. Everything was happening so fast, and he felt out of control. At the mercy of two criminal outlaws who’d already broken laws in pursuit of him, Cal felt uncomfortable with the entire situation. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

He sat next to Kelly for a few minutes, putting his arm around her and pulling her tight.

“We’re going to make it,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She cut her eyes toward him, her head bobbing rhythmically as the boat bounced across the waves. “I don’t even think you believe that.”

“At this point, I’ve got to have