Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)

She stared in shock. “Sam?”

Dimitris threw on the lights. “Who are you?”

“It’s Sam! Sam? Sam, it’s me, Remi. You can let go.”

“Remi?” He looked from her to Dimitris, then to the open door. “Get the door closed before anyone comes down the hall. We must have made a racket.” Dimitris pulled the door shut while Remi kneeled beside him.

“Is it you? Where did you come from? It is you.”

“Geez, Remi,” Sam said, rubbing the bump on his head. “You did say the North Star.”

“Wait.” Dimitris stared. “Is this the guy from the bar?”

“I can’t believe it. Oh, where are my manners? Dimitris, this is Sam. Sam . . .”

“Really, Remi. This is no time for small talk.” Sam looked up. “Nice to meet you, Dimitris.”

“I can’t believe it. You got my call.”

“Yes, now help me up. We better get going before someone decides to investigate all this noise.”

“Sam, I can’t believe it. It’s you. The North Star. It worked.”

“Is she always like this?”

He took Remi by the hand and led her and Dimitris out. Then he bolted the door behind them, hoping that’d be enough to make the guards think their prisoners were still inside. He’d already used up too much time recovering from the attack and corralling Remi. “Okay, now, quickly and quietly,” he said, directing them to the stairs. So far, no one was coming. “To the right. All the way down, then to the right again. Hide behind the bar.”

He waited until they were safely past before he followed, rounding the corner, coming face-to-face with one of the guards.

The startled guard reached for his gun. Sam stepped in, drove his right fist into the man’s gut, then shot his left hand out, catching the guard’s hand as he frantically tried to draw his pistol. When he couldn’t free it, he headbutted Sam. The blow knocked Sam back into the bar. Blindly reaching behind him, he grasped a full bottle of alcohol. As the guard drew, Sam brought the bottle crashing against his gun hand. The weapon fell. Sam swung again, slamming him in the jaw.

He slumped to the ground, groaning, his eyes fluttering. Sam recovered the gun, then searched the guard in case he was carrying a backup weapon. Finding zip ties tucked in his pocket, he secured the man’s hands behind his back, then his feet together at the ankles. As they dragged him out of sight, he came to. Sam grabbed a washcloth from beneath the bar and shoved it into his mouth.

“Someone’s coming,” Remi whispered, ducking behind the bar with them.

Sam pressed the gun barrel against the guard’s temple, and Dimitris kneeled on his legs to keep him from moving. He struggled against them.

“I have a Plan B,” Remi said. Then, pulling a slim object from her pocket, she held it against the guard’s neck, saying something to him in Greek.

The man suddenly stilled.

As the footsteps neared, Remi pressed harder. His gaze widened.

Curious, Sam leaned over, saw Remi pressing toenail clippers against the guard’s carotid. Sam couldn’t help but smile and turned back, aiming the gun, grateful when the footsteps passed by without incident.

When it was clear, he motioned Remi and Dimitris to head down the stairs. Sam took the clippers from Remi and kept them wedged against the man’s neck, buying them precious seconds to get away. Sam waited until they were on the stairs before following them down.

“What’d you say to him?” Sam asked once they reached the lower deck.

“That I had a very sharp knife and if he made one noise, his throat wasn’t the only thing I’d cut.” She glanced at Sam as they climbed over the railing into the cigarette boat. “I let his imagination do the work.”

Dimitris untied the rope and pushed off as Sam started the engine, then immediately opened it up, full throttle. Sam hoped the old boat was up to the task, but Valerios had said that her twin inboard engines could do at least eighty miles per hour.

There was no doubting the moment their escape had been discovered. He looked back, saw the internal dock door open. Within moments, a searchlight swept across the water, over them, then backtracked, lighting up their vessel.

Sam concentrated on steering the boat.

They were midway to shore when he glanced behind him, saw the muzzle flashes coming from the speedboat chasing them. “Guns!” he shouted.