“Yeah, war is great, isn’t it?”
“You built your career covering them, so you have no room to complain. Glory always goes to the victor.”
“I didn’t cover them by choice. And my reporting showed the horror of wars. I never found any glory in it.”
“You obviously didn’t look hard enough. Political history is defined by such confrontations.”
“Didn’t some famous general say it’s a good thing war is so terrible or we’d grow too fond of it.”
“That was Confederate general Robert E. Lee at the Battle of Fredericksburg. And, as history has shown, he was a loser. I only deal in winners.”
“Have you ever been in the military, Mr. Creel? You ever been shot, or even shot at?” Creel didn’t answer her. “Well I have. And let me tell you, with people who actually fight the damn wars there are no winners or losers. They’re just survivors.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t bring you here for a lecture. I brought you here to die. But I wanted you to know why. And I want you to die knowing you have no one to blame but yourself.”
She moved a bit closer to him. “Can I tell you something?”
“Every condemned person is granted a few last words.”
“Go screw yourself.”
“Brilliant, Ms. James. What a wordsmith you are.”
The door opened and one of his men came in. “You have a visitor, Mr. Creel.” His voice sank lower.
After he listened to him Creel said, “Get her off the ship right now.”
The man said, “Sir, she mentioned something about seeing some computer files in your office.”
Creel’s eyes widened a bit. “I see. All right, I’ll come out.”
Out in the hall, Creel’s wife was standing in high heels and a short skirt. Two of Creel’s men stood next to her.
“My dear, what a pleasant surprise,” Creel said.
Her response was to s
lap him. Creel’s men grabbed and held her.
She screamed, “You think you can just leave me by the side of the road like a pile of crap? After all I did for you? And to you? You bastard! I’m Mrs. Nicolas Creel and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“I can see you’re upset. But all good things must end and the divorce payment is more than generous.”
“You’re not divorcing me. I know things,” she said, a triumphant tone in her voice. As Creel eyed her stonily, she hurried on. “I know you think I’m just some dumb shit. But do you remember I told you I liked your office? Well, it wasn’t for the reason you think. I’ve found it’s always nice to have a little ammo in case people get too big for themselves. So I checked your computer. You know, Nick, when you divorced your last wife you should’ve stopped using her name as your freaking password. And from what I saw you’ve been a really bad boy.”
“Well,” Creel began pleasantly. “That does put a whole new spin on the matter. Come with me and we’ll talk this out.” He looked at his men. “Send her launch back in. She won’t be needing it. She’s staying with me.”
Miss Hottie pulled away from the pair and sauntered after her husband.
When they entered the room and Creel shut the door behind them, Miss
Hottie slowly looked around at the men in the room and then her gaze fell on Katie. “I know you, you’re Katie James.”
Creel stared in mock sadness at Miss Hottie. “I’m afraid your timing could not have been worse, my dear. And, by the way, you coming out here all alone and telling me what you know shows that you are indeed a dumb shit.” He glanced at Royce and nodded. Royce pulled out his gun and fired a bullet right into Hottie’s brain.
The dead woman toppled forward onto the table, slipped off, and crashed to the floor.
The phone buzzed. It was the captain. A boat was approaching the yacht.