Pirate - Duncan Falconer [84]
‘What can you possibly have that’s of interest to me?’ Lotto shouted back, keeping the weapon on aim.
‘Information,’ said Stratton. ‘Valuable information that could save you a lot of money.’ That was the right thing to say, Stratton thought. Lotto was all about money. Stratton tried to focus on Lotto’s trigger finger. If he could see it start to squeeze the trigger, he might be able to move enough to avoid a lethal strike.
‘I think you’re wasting my time,’ Lotto called out. ‘I have work to do.’ Lotto made the weapon more comfortable in his shoulder and narrowed the sights on Stratton again.
‘We know you’re using the ships to move drugs around the world,’ Stratton shouted. He didn’t mention he knew about the weapons. ‘You’re playing a very dangerous game.’
Lotto pulled the carbine’s trigger and the AK-47 bucked against his shoulder.
For a fraction of a second, Stratton thought he was a dead man and was stunned to find himself still alive. The round had smacked into the water close by his head. He glanced at the cargo ship. The front of it looked to be where the snag line should have been.
‘Let me explain,’ Stratton shouted. ‘It will only take a minute and then you can shoot me if you want to … Hijacking ships is one thing,’ he pressed on. ‘It affects economies only a little and is more of a nuisance than anything else—’
Lotto fired the Kalashnikov again, this time the round striking the water even closer to Stratton.
Lotto chuckled, as did his men. They knew how their master often liked to toy with victims before he killed them.
The operative couldn’t help wondering if it was best out of three. He kept up his tirade. ‘Even smuggling drugs is small in comparison. But aiding international terrorism is a big deal. It’s going to get you into a lot of trouble.’
Lotto fired for a third time. The round shredded Stratton’s life-jacket collar an inch from his neck. Lotto made a show of moving the gun a little to one side to take a better look at his target. ‘Did I hit you?’ he called out, not in the least concerned.
‘I don’t think so,’ Stratton replied with equal calm. ‘Perhaps just a nick. A good shot if you intended to aim so close.’
‘I was aiming for your ear.’
‘Not bad at all then.’
‘From your left ear. I was aiming for your right.’ Lotto laughed and came back up on aim. ‘Now unless you have anything of real importance to tell me, I need to go and catch myself a nice, fat cargo ship.’
Stratton felt a tug on his harness. The reel on his chest began to turn, slowly at first, then faster.
But he could also feel Lotto’s cold eye on him through the rifle sight, his finger tightening on the trigger. In a second he would feel the bullet smash into him.
The reel spun hard. Lotto squeezed the trigger. ‘Goodbye, Englishman. Finally.’
The reel locked. The line went taut as it stretched and Lotto fired as Stratton was jerked towards the front of the pirate boat. The bullet slapped into the water where he had been less than a second before.
Lotto looked utterly confused as he watched Stratton suddenly zoom unnaturally across the water on his front like he was Superman. The Englishman disappeared beyond the bows of the boat and Lotto hurried over to the other side. He watched open-mouthed as Stratton continued away at speed. All the Somalis joined their chief, all looking dumbstruck by the sight.
Lotto had no idea how Stratton was doing it but he couldn’t live with the man escaping once again. ‘Full speed!’ he roared. ‘After him!’
Immy floated in the vast ocean, all alone but strangely not feeling alone. She had been more isolated in the prison hut surrounded by the others, the only girl, waiting in fear for Lotto or one of the others to come and take her away and rape her. There was no danger of that where she was now.
She lay back so that she could see nothing else but the wide open sky. The waves lapped over her, swamping every now and then. But she didn’t care. She was in a zone. Alive for longer than she had expected to be. The reprieve from suicide had been somewhat emotional. It was quite something