“One of the rescue craft for this tanker?” Jerry asked.
“No. A speedboat. The captain was on the bridge talking with two men. But to be honest, at that distance I couldn’t make out if they were crew members or not.”
“Did you confront the captain?” Franny asked as she rejoined them. She handed the weapon she had to Bob. He took it and then squeezed her shoulder as if to reassure her.
“No. Listen, folks, I’m not sure what’s going on up there, but I think we need to stay alert,” Bob said.
“I agree,” Jerry said.
“Me too,” Daphne said. “But we’re not armed nor are we trained to take on pirates. I think we need a backup plan.”
“I agree,” Franny said. “We need to send a message to the DAW home office in Manhattan. They will contact the UN and send forces to protect us.”
“How will we do that?” Jerry asked. “My cell phone signal has been spotty for the last twelve hours.”
“Mine too,” Rudy said.
“We’ll have to go to the radio room and send a message,” Bob said. “Daphne, would you feel comfortable sending the message to your ex-husband? I feel like we need the U.S. State Department on this as well.”
She didn’t like the thought of turning to Paul for anything, but dying or being held hostage wasn’t like asking him to come over and help her figure out how to work the security system on her house. “Yes, I will do that.”
“But when?”
“Tomorrow,” Bob said.
They all went to their quarters. She and Franny were sharing accommodations that would have been for the first mate. There were bunk-style beds against one wall and a two-drawer dresser bolted to the floor.
“This is proving to be an exciting trip,” Franny said.
“It definitely is,” Daphne said. “I really wanted to do something different this summer.”
“Me too. I’ve been traveling to Africa for a while with our group but the restlessness in Somalia and seeing all those children with gunshot wounds and missing limbs…they need the help that our organization can provide.”
“Yes, they do,” Daphne said. “It was the kids that motivated me to come.”
That and the fact that her own life had become kind of pitiful. A boring routine where she did nothing but try to figure out what she’d done to drive Paul away. What she’d done to make him turn to another woman.
And that kind of thinking was making her crazy. Even her kids had suggested she do something this summer instead of staying home by herself, which had proven to her that it was beyond time that she started living again.
Lucas had summed it up nicely when he’d reminded her that he and his brother would be in college in less than two years’ time and she’d be all alone in that big house.
Chapter Two
A warrior never worries about his fear.
—CARLOS CASTANEDA
J.P. “Laz” Lazarus had reinvented himself more times than he could count. Captain of a Danish tanker wasn’t too far of a stretch from who he really was. He loved the ocean and had grown up in the warm waters of Florida’s Gulf Coast.
He used his given name—J.P.—with each incarnation to remind him of the family he’d left behind eons ago. His last alias had been J.P. Crosby. But some things—like his love of the sea—had stayed with him.
He’d been an idealistic eighteen-year-old when he enlisted in the U.S. Navy and signed up for Navy SEALS. He’d become a SEAL, one of a team of men he considered closer than brothers. Losing them had forced him onto this path. He was a mercenary, a gun for hire, and that didn’t cause him to lose any sleep.
He did what he was good at because frankly at his age—thirty-eight—it was too late for him to go back and try a new career. He wasn’t exactly qualified to do much more than this.
And on a night like this, with the warm breeze stirring over the Indian Ocean and his team at his back, he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
But talking to Daphne got him thinking about home. He had a place in the States that he went back to when he had some downtime. It wasn’t much. Just an old Florida coquina home on a remote stretch of unspoiled Gulf Coast in south Florida where he could just hang out and fish all day and then drive across Alligator Alley to Miami when he wanted to taste a bit of the nightlife.
The Savage Seven had become his life and his family. The jobs they took working for different clients around the world had validated who he was in a way that nothing else ever had. The differences between Daphne and him were more pronounced than she could guess. He made his living taking lives; she saved them.
“What are you doing? Savage and the team are ready to come on board,” Hamm said joining him on deck.
“Quiet. I told Savage to hold because Daphne was just up on deck.”
“Daphne? Do you mean one of the doctors?”
“Yes,” Laz said, glancing over toward the gangway where she’d disappeared when he’d told her to go below.
He hadn’t been sending her away only because he didn’t want her to know that his team was coming on board; he needed to keep the deck clear until they found out what they were up against.
“We look clear. Savage, you’re okay to come aboard,” Laz said. He lowered the rope ladder over the side. The first man over the side was Jack Savage.
He was their leader, and he was every inch the savage he was named after. He was as tough as nails and didn’t back down for anyone except maybe his sweet British wife. But even that didn’t happen too often.
“Boss,” Laz said.
“Romeo.”
Laz laughed. “I’m not romancing anyone.”
“Yeah, right. Just stay focused on the job.”
“I am. Let me show you the passive system I’ve added to the bridge.”
“Great. Hamm, show the rest of the men where to hide the weapons. We heard some chatter on the radio earlier. I think you should expect some action tonight or early tomorrow morning.”
Laz led the way to the bridge and showed Savage all the systems he’d been able to put into place.
“Since we are allowing the pirates to take the ship, I’ve added two recording devices here—one is video and audio, the other is just audio. The audio only is built into the radio and will allow you to monitor the frequency they are broadcasting on.”
“That sounds good. I’ll need you to show Wenz how to handle the scrambler. We have had some problems with all of our communications.”
