Gambit by David Hagberg (manga ereader .txt) 📗

Pete put the binoculars back in their box just inside the open hatch and turned to face her husband. “It’s close, isn’t it?” she said.

“I think so.”

Pete got her phone, put it on speaker mode, and called Otto, who answered as usual on the first ring.

“Are you guys on the water?” he asked.

“Just went through the Blackburn Point Bridge, and Mac’s internal radar is humming. Do you have anything for us?”

“Nothing specific, but there is a lot of boat traffic; anyone passing you could take a shot, and at that range, they couldn’t miss.”

“Lots of witnesses,” Pete said. “And the guy would have to make his getaway.”

“Whoever it is has a plan. These kinds of guys never do anything without thinking about all the possibilities. Take care.”

“Will do,” Pete said.

“Keep a close watch on the house and perimeter,” McGarvey said. “We’re going to anchor just offshore.”

“Daring him to shoot,” Mary broke in.

“We’ll be ready.”

“Stay frosty,” Otto said, and Pete hung up.

The navigable channel here was narrow, though the mostly shallow waterway itself was wide, in some places a couple of hundred yards. Big houses with expansive lawns and marked channels that the owners had paid to dredge and keep open led from the ICW to docks where their toys were up out of the water on lifts. There was a lot of money in this part of Florida.

“Do you want something to drink?” Pete asked.

“Go below if you would and open a couple of beers and empty the cans in the sink. Fill them with Coke or iced tea. From this point on, we’re only going to make a show of drinking beer.”

FORTY-SIX

They got their hats, sunglasses, and phones from the SUV and, Taio shouldering the umbrella bag that held the loaded AR-15 and two spare magazines, walked back to the pair of Jet Skis tethered to the beach.

The party on the island was getting into full swing now, and no one paid much attention to them as they untied the machines, turned them around so that they faced deeper water, and climbed aboard.

“I’ll go out into the Gulf with you a little ways until we get the hang of these things,” Taio said. “When we’re ready, you’ll head up the island, and I’ll take the ICW.”

“Call me,” Li said, her voice tight in her throat as it usually was at the beginning of an operation.

Once they were into it, she always settled down beautifully, and Taio thought then as he had before, that she made not only the perfect wife but she was the perfect partner.

He reached across and touched her hand. “This will be done in an hour or two, and we’ll be on our way home, where we can plan our vacation.”

Li smiled. “And our retirement.”

“That, too,” Taio said. “Let’s go.”

They started their machines and Taio headed out first, careful with the touchy throttle. The machine was even more powerful than he’d thought it would be, but it was more or less like driving a motorcycle except that he couldn’t do a wheelie.

He looked back as Li eased up along his left side, a big grin on her pretty face. She loved the Augustas, and it was obvious she was liking this ride.

A few of the people on the jetties waved as they headed out, and once in the Gulf, Taio hit the throttle, and the big machine responded like a rocket ship. About a hundred meters offshore, he turned hard to the right, and the Jet Ski heeled over almost like a motorcycle but raising a huge white wake.

Glancing over his shoulder, he was in time to see Li cutting a wider circle around him. He turned toward her, and she turned inward toward him. They both made a couple of more turns, then throttled down and approached each other, easing close enough so that they could talk.

“Fun?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. “We’re buying a pair of these when we get home.”

“We’ll be the terrors of Hong Kong’s harbor,” Taio said, and they laughed. Incongruous just now, he thought. “I’m going inside. Once you reach the house, make a couple of passes, and let me know when you’re ready.”

She was suddenly serious. “Be careful, Taio. I want the vacation and especially our retirement.”

“So do I,” Taio said, and for the first time in their careers, he meant it. It was time to get out before the odds of being killed—or worse yet, being captured alive and sent separately to prison for the rest of their lives—reached 100 percent.

“Zai jian, Taio.” See you later.

“Hao ba.” Okay.

Hammond had a lousy night, scarcely able to get more than a couple of hours of sleep, and he’d spent most of the day working on projects, waiting for word that McGarvey had been taken care of, and now in the early evening, he was totally exhausted.

Sitting now on the patio picking at his dinner of lobster and truffled new potatoes, he was at sixes and sevens with himself over just about everything that had happened over the past month or so.

Susan had taken the shuttle down to see her European theater manager to work on a deal that would allow her to buy 350 screens, mostly in Italy but several in France and Germany. Her idea was to market showings of films made in places like Syria, Lebanon, and several other troubled Middle Eastern countries that would appeal mostly to the vast hordes of immigrants pouring in.

“A little touch of home,” she’d explained cynically to Hammond.

“No money in it,” he’d told her.

“If they can come up with five grand to have a smuggler take them here, then they’ll have a few euros to see a flick. I want whatever they have left over, and in return, I’ll give them a couple of hours of relief. Cheaper than seeing a shrink.”

He’d been labeled as a raider without a heart for pretty much his entire career. But he’d merely taken money from people who were already rich and