Fynn got them straightened out, retreating, then another shot and crunching ping were followed by a stutter in the engine noise. A rougher stutter. A cough, as their speed slowed abruptly. Fynn moaned, “I think they hit the motor.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.Nolan glanced around wildly. “Hopefully, they’ll leave once they see we’re disabled and can’t follow.”
“Leave with Micah?” Fynn stared at him. “Can’t you shoot back?”
“Not and hit anything.” His compact 9mm was good for close protection, but useless right now except as a warning. He didn’t want to start a shooting war with multiple bad guys who sounded better armed.
Bad guys who were still powering toward them, not making the smart move by turning and leaving.Why, why, why? Surely they don’t know who we are?Although maybe they had binoculars, or Micah recognized his boat and told them… After a moment’s thought, Nolan dropped down into the bottom of the boat out of sight.
Fynn cursed the grinding motor as they continued to slow, then demanded, “What are you doing down there?”
“If they haven’t gotten a good look yet, I want let them think you came out here alone. They’re getting close enough now to see us.” Vague options raced through his head. “Do you have any waterproof bags here?”
“Probably in the emergency kit.” Fynn pointed to a white box with a red cross on it. The motor coughed again and quit, and the boat glided to a stop, sinking deeper into the choppy waves. “Shit! Nolan, they’re still coming.”
Nolan dug into the box and found a heavy Ziplock. Dumping its first-aid contents, he slipped his weapon inside and zipped the bag. With care, he worked a corner of the plastic through the trigger guard. Awkward but he could still fire it in a pinch.
“What are you doing?” Fynn whispered, his eyes locked on the approaching motorboat. “You need that gun.”
“We can’t meet them head on. They have two armed guys, at least, and longer-range weapons. I want an element of surprise. Shift your weight over this side so the other one goes up.”
Fynn moved next to him, leaning over the edge. The boat tipped slightly, raising the side between them and the approaching men. “This won’t block bullets.”
“Not the point.” Quickly, before the kidnappers were close enough to see, Nolan slithered up over the far side of the boat and into the water. The chill of Lake Michigan, even in summer, took his breath away. Still, he lowered himself deeper till his head was screened by the boat, clinging to a cleat on the side with one hand.
The boat rocked as Fynn moved close to where he hung. “What should I do?”
“Don’t look at me. They don’t want to kill you.” That was Nolan’s one desperate hope. They’d stopped shooting once the boat was disabled. “They want money. They’ll either talk to you about ransom or try to kidnap you too.”
He could hear Fynn’s heaving breaths despite the whine of the approaching motor. “I don’t want to be kidnapped.”
“You won’t be. Stay cool inside, but I want you to act like you’re flipped out. Shout and jump around, make noise and be distracting. Scream at them. Just don’t get yourself shot. I’ll either use my weapon from under the bow—”And pray I can get off two solid body shots before they get Fynn.“—or I’ll try to swim under and get behind the boat, if they come close enough.” He heard the motorboat still chugging toward them, although he couldn’t see it. “If anyone fires a gun, drop down into the boat. Get as flat as you can. Okay?”
“Okay.” Fynn sniffed. “Damn them. Don’t get hurt, promise me.”
“I’m good. You worry about you.”Take care, Fynn.This was a hairbrained idea, but Nolan didn’t have a better one. “Now, focus on them. Pretend I don’t exist. Be loud.”
The sound of the motorboat grew closer… closer… then faded to an idle. Nolan let go of the cleat and swam alongside until he could peer around under their bow. The motorboat had come to a stop perhaps twenty feet away. Not a bad range for him with a handgun, but only one man stood on the deck in the open holding a rifle. The other was hidden by the cockpit, only the side of one arm visible.
Can’t risk it.
The rifle man shouted across the water, “Who are you?”
“You shot at me!” Fynn yelled back. “Are you crazy? I’m out here enjoying the water and you shot my boat!”
The man turned and said audibly toward the cockpit, “Itisthe science brother. Not one of the bodyguards.”
That’s what you think, motherfucker.
“Fuckin’ A,” the hidden guy said. “You were right. We’ll get them both. Bonus time.”
The man at the front turned back to Fynn. “We have your brother. If you want him to stay alive, you’ll do exactly as—”
Nolan tuned out the rest, taking a few long breaths. Then he sank beneath the surface. Down here, vibration from the boat’s idling engine carried but other sound was lost. He swam deeper, heading toward the shadow of the other boat’s hull, the Ziplock gripped in one hand hampering his strokes.Fuck, it’s cold down here!He made his way underneath the boat and surfaced as silently as he could on the far side.
“—not listening!” he heard Fynn yelling as he surfaced. “Go away! You’re maniacs! You’re stupid. I called the Coast Guard. I called the Marines. Aaargh! Idiots!”
Good man.
