“Unchain the D’Campions first,” Kurt demanded. “As a show of good faith.”
“I don’t operate in good faith.”
Kurt didn’t doubt that. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Here you go.”
He pulled on a nylon rope, drawing back a canvas tarp that had been laid across the aft deck. As the tarp slid back, it revealed a large trunk that was used to stow diving equipment. “The tablets are in there.”
Hassan hesitated.
“I’m not going to carry them to you,” Kurt said.
Hassan was obviously suspicious. “Where’s your friend the swordsman?”
Kurt almost smiled.
“I’m right here,” Joe shouted, opening a window at the aft of the cabin. Like Kurt, Joe was protected by a short wall of scuba tanks. Unlike Kurt’s protective barrier, two of the tanks in front of Joe were still pressurized and were connected to a hose that ran under the tarp and into a hole in the back of the trunk.
“Very well,” Hassan said. He waved two of his men forward.
They moved to the edge of the dock with rifles in hand, hopped onto the dive boat and stepped cautiously toward the waiting trunk.
“If this is a trick—” the man said.
“I know, I know,” Kurt said, interrupting him. “You’ll kill us all and drown the D’Campions. I’ve heard this speech before.”
The two gunmen approached the trunk like it was a wild animal that might roar to life at any moment. Kurt smirked as if it amused him and allowed his rifle to point away from them in a lazy manner.
Reaching the trunk, one of the men crouched down to unlatch it. The other stood guard.
Inside the cabin, Joe’s hands went to the valves on the oxygen tanks, which were already open slightly and pressurizing the fiberglass trunk, but as one of the men leaned near, Joe spun both valves to full.
The lid of the trunk flew open, hitting the man in the face. A thin layer of gasoline Joe had poured inside the trunk was splashed up into the air by the sudden rush of high-pressure oxygen while a flint he’d rigged up and taped to the hinge struck. The spark ignited a Hollywood-style flashover, a suitably impressive fireball that did little actual damage but which knocked the men backward and grabbed everyone’s attention with a wave of orange flames and a cloud of dark smoke that went billowing outward.
Kurt snapped his rifle back into position. Ignoring the men who’d been knocked over by the blast, and Hassan, who hadn’t unholstered his weapon yet, he snapped off a pair of shots, targeting the thugs who remained on the dock. Both shots hit dead center and the men crumpled without returning fire.
Kurt shifted right and triggered a third shot, this one aimed at Hassan, but the man dove away and ran to safety in the dilapidated shack.
Kurt spun to the left, hoping to get a clean line on the thug on the bridge, but before he could fire again, ricochets began hitting around him and the dull plunk of bullets hammering the depleted oxygen tanks forced him to duck down.
He took cover as additional rounds hit, ringing the tanks. Distended dents appeared in the tanks the way soft metal distorted when hit with a ball-peen hammer. Kurt rolled away just as a third impact hit home and the metal skin of the tank nearest to him split, spitting fragments his way.
“Joe, I’m pinned down.”
“It’s coming from the roof of the hotel,” Joe replied, firing off a couple of bursts at the building to give Kurt some relief.
Kurt caught sight of the sniper ducking behind the low wall on the roof. He could see that the man had just a regular rifle with no scope.
“That guy’s a hell of a marksman,” Kurt said, scrambling to a new position and adding a few shots to the ones Joe had fired.
By now, the men who’d been knocked over by the explosion were getting to their feet. One went for his rifle, swinging it toward the cabin where Joe was hiding. Before the man could fire, Renata popped open the skylight and shot twice. The gunman took both shots to the chest and fell off the boat into the water.
His partner ran.
Renata aimed for his legs, hitting him in the back of the knees and cutting him down, but keeping him alive for a later interrogation.
More shots tore in from the roof of the hotel and the thugs Kurt and Joe had tied up went down like bowling pins. Considering they’d been working the divers to death, Kurt didn’t shed any tears.
“Push them in,” Hassan could be heard shouting. “Push them in now!”