Ringo picked up the other M4 and tossed it to Jean Claude. “Come with me.”
Jean Claude so did not want to go out in the storm again. “I will be more useful here, to protect you.”
A Colt .45 materialized in Ringo’s hand and from three feet away was pointed at Jean Claude’s face. The hammer was cocked and everyone heard the safety click off. Jean Claude swallowed, “I’m coming.”
Ringo flicked on the safety and put the pistol under his windbreaker. Jean Claude followed The Zombie into the gray, blowing, stinging wetness. The other man watched as the two figures faded from sight within twenty steps. He licked his lips, and was glad the scary one was gone.
The further Jean Claude walked out on the pier, the more nervous he became. Large, heavy gray waves came in one after the other like railroad cars and crashed into the concrete pilings under the pier. He felt vibrations through his feet each time a really large one hit, and foam and froth splashed high into the air as the rolling water plowed forward underneath the pier, roaring like doomsday was upon them. Overhead, the relentless wind howled and shrieked as if banshees filled the low, roiling cloud just overhead.
Bazin walked ahead of him as if it was a normal day. When they reached the larger area at the end of the pier, which was shaped like the business end of a flyswatter, Ringo turned toward the north side where Dessaline and the others stood at the rail.
Marc glanced at the M4 in Jean Claude’s hands, then said to Ringo, “We’re going to bring the Malice to the pier.”
Ringo looked at the number of ropes and pulleys on the deck, then back at Marc, “It will be dangerous.”
Marc said, “I know, but what they have on board, we cannot lose it. It is most valuable to me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Help with the ropes. Strength and speed will be needed to secure it.”
Jean Claude said, “What do I do?”
Marc pointed sixty feet away and said “Stand where the pier narrows. Other than our men, kill anyone who comes this way.”
Jean Claude walked to the spot and was immediately buffeted by a crosswind that staggered him six feet to the side. He looked over his shoulder and saw the others were discussing things and paying him no attention. Forty feet further down the pier was a roofed area, open on the sides and maybe twenty by twenty in size, with large square corner posts anchoring it to the pier deck.
He glanced at Dessaline one more time, then trotted to the limited shelter and took what respite he could by staying under the roof and on the inside of the posts that blocked a little of the needle-sharp rain and the driving wind behind it.
If they would only let him, he would walk away from this and move to a desert and never look back. One more look at Dessaline and Bazin, and thinking of what they would do if he deserted made his insides weak. He crouched against the post and prayed for it all to end soon.
He glanced up the beach, not able to see much, and caught two winks of light. He focused on the area and there it was again. Jean Claude ran to Dessaline and the others, and as Marc turned toward him, Jean Claude said, “The boats are close!” He pointed up the beach and all of them watched as the vehicle lights blinked twice.
Marc pointed at the ocean, where three dark, bobbing shapes were emerging from the storm. “Get ready,” Marc said. “We will all be rich men at the end of this day.”
That’s when they heard a staccato burst of machine gun fire from the land part of the pier.
~*~
Randall eased forward on North Beach Road, past the Dania Beach Bar and Grill and could see the vague image of the pier in the distance. He sped up, then a gust of wind moved the vehicle sideways like it was on ice.
He regained control and continued forward.
Hunter said, “Two cars in the road. Both stopped.”
“I don’t see any others around. This may be all of them.”
“Yeah,” Hunter said, “And there’s two of us.”
“Do you see John or Ariel anywhere?”
“I don’t see anybody.”
They slowed as they approached, and Hunter said, “Hey, there’s somebody in front of the ramp that goes up the pier.”
“Is it Andre?” Randall asked.
Hunter said, “He’s got a rifle!”