Maxim pulled up one of the corners of the canvas to allow her to crawl inside. Stay still. Don't make a sound. I'll be a while. Guard that bag, we'll need it to get out of here.
What are you doing now?
I'm going to disable the helicopter and then go talk to the captain. The engines should begin to lose power soon and the ship will start slowing. He'll be barking orders at the engine room but no one is alive to hear him.
Her gaze clung to his, making it difficult to leave her. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. She blinked up at him, but she didn't pull away and she didn't kiss him back. She merely looked at him. He stepped back and yanked down the canvas, sending up a silent prayer no one discovered her.
He made his way to the helicopter, not bothering to hide his presence. He would draw more attention slinking around then just walking right out in the open. He was supposedly a member of Evan's mercenary army and few would consider interfering with him or questioning him.
Two men patrolling around the upper deck nodded to him and kept moving. They looked bored with their job and weren't paying much attention to anything but each other and the argument they appeared to be having. He waited until they had disappeared from sight and then strolled right up to the helicopter.
It wasn't difficult to slip inside without being seen. He moved quickly. Flying helicopters had been easy enough to learn; repairing them was something altogether different, but they had to learn just in case their ride went down. He crawled to the baggage bay and removed two of the avionics panels.
He worked fast, but meticulously. He took off the cover housing to the start solenoid and took out the contact. The engine wouldn't start without it and a few other systems wouldn't work either. He replaced the cover and then the panels before easing out of the baggage bay. He glanced at his watch. He'd disabled the helicopter in record time, but still, night had fallen fast and already the ship's engines sounded labored.
The ship was definitely slowing. He jumped from the helicopter and slipped under it, between the skids, waiting while the wind brought him information. The two guards were on the far side of the ship from him, but two men were hurrying toward the stairs, most likely to find out why no one was answering below in the engine room.
He moved into the shadows to follow them. He caught them just above the stairwell. "You'll need to remain quiet and come with me," he said softly, announcing his presence.
Both swung around to face him, eyes going wide with shock when they saw the gun. He handed the shorter of the two a zip tie. "Hands behind his back, put it on tight."
The taller of the two men glared at him as the shorter one complied. "You'll never get away with this."
"You're lucky I'm letting you live. Everyone below is already dead." He slapped tape over the man's mouth and then indicated for the shorter one to turn around. It took only seconds to tie and gag him with the tape and zip ties. The container that had held the women was a short distance from the stairs. He marched them to it, unlocked it and shoved them both inside.
The smell of death was overpowering. He slammed the door closed on the foul odor and inserted the lock. He strode across the deck again, heading toward the bridge. The ship shuddered and slowed more. Several crew members raced toward stations. He kept walking, ignoring the chaos breaking out on the deck. The captain was shouting into his radio, calling down to the engine room for an explanation, but clearly it was of no use.
"Captain Martsen?" Maxim said softly.
Martsen spun around, swearing as Maxim continued toward him. He waved the Russian off. "I've got no time right now," he snapped. "I've got problems."
"Of course you do," Maxim replied in a soothing voice. "You've had them for a while now, haven't you?"
"What are you talking about?" Martsen demanded.
The ship shuddered again and the roar of the engines quieted. The momentum of their speed kept them moving, but clearly they were no longer being powered.
"I suggest you drop anchor," Maxim advised.
"I know what to do with my own ship," Martsen proclaimed. "Get out of here before I call security to have you thrown out."
Maxim leaned his hip against the wall and looked coolly down his nose at Martsen. "It's a little too late for that, don't you think?"
Martsen turned back to give the order. "Drop anchor. Drop anchor now."
At once the sound of the huge chain vibrated through the bridge and sparks flew up into the night like a small fireworks show.
"That's all I needed from you," Maxim said. He pulled out his gun. "Keep in mind, Martsen, you're of no more use to me and I prefer to just kill you outright. Get moving. Walk toward the container where you keep those women prisoner."
The first officer and second officers raised their hands immediately and began to walk toward Maxim when he indicated to do so with his weapon.
The captain glanced through the glass, out onto the deck to see the two men running toward them with assault rifles. "Go fuck yourself, Maxim, this is my ship . . ."
Maxim shot Martsen dead center in the middle of his forehead and turned the gun on the two security men running toward the bridge. They fired at him, and he dropped low. The first and second officers went down as the sweep of bullets smashed equipment. Maxim took careful aim, using the wind for his map, and he fired one shot, taking out the closest of the two men.
He could hear more men running, and satisfaction moved through him. It was going to be easier killing them all in one place. They should have spread out and used available cover.
Airiana screamed. Loud. In pain. That hadn't been in his plan. His heart jerked hard in his chest and he called the wind, looking for her exact location and how many men surrounded her. Two in front of her and two on either side.
He rose and fired at the second security man, killing him instantly. Two men dragged Airiana toward the bridge while two others held their weapons at ready. Maxim slipped out of the control room and found the shadows. He was part of the night and could move in silence. He waited for the two men in the lead to reach him. He kicked the first one in the face hard, using a roundhouse kick, and caught the other by the neck, dragging him in front of him.
He rapid-fired two bullets, aiming for head shots, taking out the two men on either side of Airiana. She shoved one fist in her mouth, but reached down to recover her rifle as he shot the man he was holding in the head, shoved the body away and slapped at the gun of the second attacker, knocking it away. He caught the man's head in his bare hands, twisted as he spun his body around, lifting him over his shoulder by his head and neck. The crack was loud. He ran toward Airiana and caught her arm, taking her with him as he continued running back toward the lifeboat and his war bag.
Blood ran down her face from a wound in her hairline. The dark scrap of shirt that had been serving as a scarf to hold her hair was gone. The blood looked obscene running down her pale face and smeared in her wild, angel hair. He wiped at it with his shirt. "Get back in there and get dressed. Put the wet suit on fast. Put the oil on your body first and stash these clothes in the war bag."
She shook her head but complied. He had a couple more men to secure and then the children would be safe. The chief steward and cook, the boatswain and three more seamen. They would have heard the gunshots and they'd be expecting trouble. He didn't want Airiana anywhere on the deck when trouble came.
He slipped carefully through the containers, allowing the air around him to guide him. Someone had climbed up above for a better view. That was easy enough. He brought in the wind, a gale force directed at the man leaping from one container to the next. The wind hit the man square in the chest while he was in the air, blowing him backward. The man screamed and flailed in the air as he was picked up and thrown overboard.
He heard a whisper of movement coming from the stairwell. Maxim rolled from the shadows of the container to the small tucked-in alcove beside the stairs, coming up on one knee, his weapon trained on the second man coming up. The first passed h
im, assault rifle in hand, and the second, a dark-haired, swarthy, heavily muscled man moved stealthily into view.
The dark-haired male suddenly turned his head alertly, shifting on the balls of his feet and launching himself at Maxim. Maxim got two shots off before he was hit hard, knocking him backward, the breath rushing from his lungs. Both bullets hit the first man, but the noise of the large man tackling him brought four others running.
He rolled, came to his feet, and the man slammed a boot in his chest, driving him back to the stairwell. He nearly went over the railing, his weapon tangling in the metal frame. Another kick to the ribs nearly smashed his bones. His rifle stayed in the metal and he went flying.
He palmed a throwing knife as he hit the deck, rolled and threw with deadly accuracy. The big man went down, the knife buried in his neck. A bullet smashed right over his head and Maxim dove for cover. The four men formed a semicircle, blasting the entire area, keeping him pinned and putting dozens of holes in the bodies of their shipmates.
Behind them, he heard the sound of a gun and his heart nearly stopped. One of the men stumbled forward, went to his knees and toppled onto his face. A second did the same. He saw her then. Dressed in her wet suit, all in black, even her hair covered by the hood, she stood a distance away with the assault rifle steady in her hands.
He fell in love right there. As the others turned toward her, he pulled his weapon free and shot them just as she did.
"You were late," she said. "And I got scared."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Now that it was over, her hands trembled. He took the weapon from her. "We're getting out of here."
"I'm feeling a little light-headed."
She was definitely pale. "Just sit down. I'll be another minute."
It took a few minutes to strip, rub himself down with a little oil and slip into his scuba gear. He radioed the sub to make certain it was in position and waiting for them and then he called his brother and dumped the entire mess in his lap, making certain to give them the correct phrase so Benito wouldn't shoot anyone. Lev didn't sound happy, but he was cooperative, understanding, as no one else could be in the situation. He promised to get the children to safety and deal with the disaster aboard ship.