Coincidence - Alan May [84]
“Might be they’re only looking for the Two Wise,” Phillip said slowly. “That wouldn’t tie us in with the drugs necessarily. They’ll know the boat’s stolen, though; the camouflage is only good from the air.”
“A random drug check maybe? It’s possible?”
“Possible, I guess. Not probable. This isn’t exactly a high drug area. But we’ve got to decide now what to do with the coke. Once they’ve boarded, for whatever reason, it’ll be too late. And there’s no way we can outrun them. That cutter can go four times our best speed.”
A shadow loomed across the open doorway. Juan. Stefano exchanged glances with his brother. Phillip had never seen Juan look quite so venomous, and all of his anger seemed to be directed at him—though how the hell Juan could pin the blame for this on him he couldn’t see. But Juan had no head for logic; he’d lash out first and ask questions later. Which method of his imminent death would be the worst: gun-wielding authorities, ravenous sharks, or Juan?
Stalling for time, Phillip said, “Look, why don’t I just ask them what’s up, why they want to board, anyway? At least that way we’ll know what it is we’re dealing with.”
Stefano grunted his consent, and Juan did nothing to stop him, so Phillip went ahead.
“Serendipity? Could you tell us the—uh, the nature of your inquiry? We’re in international waters here. Why do you want to come aboard?”
The radio crackled again before the captain’s voice came through, calm and brisk.
“Coincidence, this is a routine check only. We monitor all ship traffic in this area. We are now launching a boarding party; it will arrive in a few minutes.”
Captain’s Ritchie’s tone was noncommittal; it almost sounded bored. But something about his explanation did not ring true. Why would the U.S. Coast Guard monitor all ships in this part of the world? Did they even have the authority to do so?
The men kept their eyes on the launch as it plowed the water toward them. Phillip’s eyes began to ache with the strain.
There were five of them on the launch. Five men in flak jackets. Five men with rifles trained on the Coincidence.
Stefano froze for an instant at the sight. Then he whirred into action, reaching into a locker behind him as he shouted out orders in staccato bursts.
“Juanito!”
He withdrew a rifle from the locker and tossed it to Juan.
“Get ready to fire!” he said, grabbing a second weapon for himself.
“You!” he yelled to Phillip. “Put the boat in gear! Go!”
As the boat began to move, Stefano and Juan took aim at the launch, which abruptly changed direction and headed back toward the Serendipity. Stefano wheeled around.
“Esteban! The hostages! Bring them here!”
Esteban looked up.
“Now, muchachote, now!”
The Serendipity was closing in on them, cutting them off. Two crew members stood on the bow, their weapons cocked. As Anika and the doctor reached the bridge, hands bound with rope, mouths taped shut, a shot cracked through the air. Two hundred feet in front of the Coincidence, a shell smacked down, sending a spray of water over its hull.
Stefano pushed Elliott and Anika onto the bridge in full view of the cutter.
“You tell them leave us alone or we will shoot them and throw them overboard,” he told Philip. “They can’t touch us once we get near the island.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Phillip said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
He looked at Stefano, who was wild-eyed, still believing there was a way out.
“The police will be waiting for us on Easter Island,” he said in a low voice.
“So? We throw the coke overboard now! No evidence!”
“It’s pointless.”
The radio crackled to life again.
“This is Captain Ritchie on the Serendipity. Don’t do anything foolish. It will do you no good, anyway. We know the names of your crew and your hostages. We know your boat is the Two Wise, stolen in Costa Rica. We know you killed the six guards in Colombia. We know you have the coke onboard.
“We are prepared to make you one offer, and