âWhy donât the bastards make a move?â Dave asked, growing more restless than nervous.
âI think theyâre trying to figure out the best way to come at us.â Brittany stated. âMaybe they arenât quite sure of how to go about it.â
âGet the flare gun ready with a light flare.â She added. âWe may want to shed a little light on their position.â
Not hesitating for an instant, Dave took the flare gun out of its storage locker. Inserting the flare package into the rear of the barrel, he closed the gun and cocked the hammer back ready to fire.
Minutes passed with both boats holding their positions. Looking through the nightvision binoculars, Brittany could barely make out the figures of four people on the powerboat. It appeared they might be preparing to attack their position.
âKent!â Brittany shouted. âGet behind the controls and fire up both engines. Just keep them at an idle for now.â
The cruisers twin diesels started and gradually settled into a smooth idle. Off in the distance, the powerboats thundering engines fired up. In an instant, the boat began speeding towards them.
âFire the light flare!â Brittany shouted. âHere they come!â
The ka-chung of the flare gun was barely audible above the idle of the cruiserâs engines. As the flare lit up the darkness of the night, the powerboat, a bright red Scarab, passed beneath it. The four men onboard were clearly visible. Two of the men brandished automatic assault weapons, another was aiming a high-powered rifle at the cruiser. A bullet fired from the rifle hit the boat just missing Cheryl. Pieces of fiberglass exploded from the impact.
Everyone on the cruiser opened fire. The powerboat circled in front of them at full speed, less than a hundred yard off the port side of the boat. Two of the gunmen took several rounds from the team, one of them falling out into the water.
âGO! GO! GO!â Brittany shouted, glaring at Kent.
Kent shoved both throttle levers forward and spun the wheel to the left. The bow of the heavy cruiser lifted out of the water, slowly picking up speed as it started to plane out on the waterâs surface. The Scarab powerboat was well ahead of them. Everyone changed out the magazines on their weapons.
Turning on the powerful overhead lights, the Scarab was barely visible as it pulled further ahead of them. The two gunmen fired back at the cruiser but their assault weapons were well out of range.
The Scarab sped through a narrow inlet between Crooked Island and Acklins Island, disappearing from view. Brittany rushed towards the cockpit. Standing beside Kent, she stared intently at the radar screen.
âCareful!â Brittany shouted. âThere a land mass off the starboard side. There might be reefs or a sandbar.â
Kent wasnât paying attention to Brittanyâs warning. He was dead set on catching up to the Scarab powerboat even though he couldnât see it. As the cruiser approached the narrow inlet between the two islands, the radar screen went dark.
âShit!â Brittany exclaimed. âNow, the fucking radarâs gone out!â
With the cruiserâs bow lights and large overhead light on, Kent steered the boat, keeping the throttles at full forward. Not seeing the reef, Kent sped across it, damaging both outdrives. The grating sound of the bottom of the boat scraping across the reef sounded as if the entire bottom of the boat was being ripped out. The sudden decrease in speed knocked everyone, except Kent, to the deck of the boat. The cruiserâs bow sunk low in the water before gently lifting with the tide.
The thundering roar of the Scarab was growing louder as it approached them, returning for another attack. Dave lay unconscious on the deck, his head bleeding profusely from striking the hand railing. Brittany and Cheryl slowly got to their feet, looking around in the dark for their weapons laying somewhere on the deck. The Scarab with its two gunmen was practically upon them. Kent reached for Brittanyâs Glock 21 pistol holstered next to the boatâs controls. Before he could withdraw it from its sheath, the Scarab rammed the side of the cruiser, heavily damaging both boats.
Both gunmen jumped onboard the cruiser with their assault weapons pointed at the team. The moonlight barely illuminated the scene. Kent, Brittany and Cheryl froze in position, unarmed.
âGet on boat!â One of the gunmen shouted, gesturing with his weapon. âEveryone! Now!â
Kent and Brittany helped Dave to his feet. He wasnât aware of what was going on, still woozy from his head wound. Getting him on the powerboat was difficult but leaving him on the cruiser would mean certain death for him. With the team held at gunpoint on the powerboat, one of the gunmen eased the boat off the cruiser. In the dark it was hard to tell how much damage it had sustained. The cruiser, on the other hand, had suffered serious damage. A large gash on the portside was allowing water to flow into the inner hull unhindered. The reef, hidden just below the waterâs surface, was all that was keeping it from sinking.
The Scarab turned north, proceeding back through the narrow inlet. With its bow lights damaged, it was difficult to see anything in their path. The boatâs driver seemed to know his way through the inlet without the assistance of lighting. Cruising less than a mile, the powerboat slowed even more as it turned into a cove. With the powerboatâs engines almost at an idle, it floated towards a makeshift dock. The driver swung the boat around bringing it broadside to the dock. Brittany noticed the white Eliminator boat tied off near the end of the dock. It was the same one theyâd observed at the marina on Paradise Island a couple of days earlier.
After securing the Scarab to the wooden dock, they were given orders to follow the gunmen up a steep, rocky trail. With Kentâs assistance, Dave was able to make the climb. The blood on his face was quickly drying. Nearing the top of the steep slope, they came upon a gravel pathway leading to an old two-story house. As they approached the darkened structure, they heard a gasoline generator start up. Several lights inside the house came on immediately.
The two gunmen were right behind the two couples urging them forward. One of the men grabbed Brittanyâs butt, giving it a hard squeeze. Brittanyâs immediate reaction was to brush his hand away. The gunman grinned, showing his stained and crooked teeth.
Standing on the porch of the house, one of the gunmen opened the door, swinging it back.
âGo inside.â He commanded. âGo inside.â
Brittany and Cheryl entered the house with Kent assisting Dave, following them. Brittany quickly surveyed the interior of the house, memorizing everything she saw. The house was completely furnished with wicker and rattan furniture. A stairway led to the upper level of the old house. Brittany continued looking around, trying to put together an escape route should the chance arise.
Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, both Cheryl and Brittany quickly looked up. A dark-haired woman, her hair almost coal black, was descending towards them. Her skin was dark, more than just tanned. She was tall, close to 5â10â. Her slender build dressed in cut-off jeans and a camouflage shirt. Brushing back her long, straight hair, she slowly approached them.
The woman looked at the two couples, checking Brittany and Cheryl out carefully from head to toe. Speaking in Spanish, she ordered one of the gunmen to escort Kent and Dave to an outbuilding behind the house. Once they had exited the room, she turned her attentions back to the two women.
Grabbing one of Cherylâs breasts, she squeezed it hard. Cheryl grabbed the womanâs wrist and pushed it away. The dark-haired womanâs immediate reaction was to slap Cheryl hard across the face.
âYour breasts are fake!â She exclaimed, speaking in English. âBut they will help me negotiate a higher price for you.â