“Shut up and listen!” The man at the rail sounded frustrated. “We’re coming closer, bringing the boats together. Keep your hands where I can see them.” Nolan couldn’t spot the other guy, but he didn’t want to wait and have the boat start moving again. He eased down along the side to the back end, where the high rail gave way to a low flat platform. Peering around the corner, he could see into the cabin. The second man stood by the wheel, hands on the controls, not a weapon, while staring over toward Fynn. A huddled man on the floor had to be Micah. No third kidnapper.
Silently, Nolan freed his weapon from the baggie, keeping it clear of the water.
Showtime.
With a powerful kick, he surged out of the lake, grabbed the edge of the boat with hand and free elbow and hauled himself up and in, rolling as he landed. The man at the rail shouted, pivoted, and a rifle shot echoed past but didn’t seem to hit anything. Nolan rolled to one knee, steadied his weapon, and snapped off a shot. Rifle guy screamed as the round hit, blood spraying as he dropped his weapon and fell. Nolan pivoted to aim at the man standing by the wheel. “Freeze! Hands up!”
The man stopped moving but his hand hovered near his hip.
“Handsup!” Nolan barked. “Up or dead!”
The guy hesitated, his harsh breaths counterpoint to the moans of the guy Nolan had shot, then slowly he moved his hands above his shoulders.
“Higher. Fingers locked behind your head.” Nolan took one small step at a time toward the guy, trying to listen to the other man in case he wasn’t as incapacitated as he’d seemed. Nolan’s wet clothes clung to his legs and as he passed into the shade under the sleek canopy, he gritted his teeth against a shiver.
“Stone?” Micah said from where he lay. “Is that you?” He rolled over but Nolan didn’t have attention to spare.
“Stay put, Micah! Don’t move till I tell you.”
“Okay.”
Two more steps, and Nolan was close enough to touch the kidnapper.Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a pair of handcuffs right now.He shifted nearer, the muzzle of his 9mm inches from the guy’s chest. “Don’t move, motherfucker. Don’t breathe.”Weapon in a hip holster left.He slid a hand down the man, closed his fingers on the grip, and eased a handgun out of the holster.Got it.
Stepping back, he said down to Micah, “Are you hurt bad?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, look behind me. What’s the guy doing?” The moaning had stopped.
“Lying there. Not moving. Is he dead?”
Or unconscious, one can hope.“Keep an eye on him. Let me know if he moves. Are your hands free?”
“No.”
“Tied in front of you or behind?” He didn’t dare drop his attention for a second. The kidnapper’s stance screamed his plan to attack at the slightest opening.Not giving you that chance.
“Taped in front. My ankles are duct taped too.”
Of course they are.“I’m going to go down on one knee beside you. In my right front pocket there’s a multi-tool pocketknife. I’m keeping my gun on this motherfucker. See if you can get my knife out. Don’t touch anything except my pocket and don’t get in front of my gun.”
“All right.”
Gradually, he eased down to one knee next to Micah. Three feet away, the kidnapper shifted his weight as if thinking about a kick. Nolan snapped, “Freeze! Shooting you would be easier.”
The bastard subsided again, glaring at them, clearly waiting for an instant of inattention to jump him. Nolan wanted to look back to check on the other man, didn’t dare.
Micah fumbled at Nolan’s pocket, dragging his slacks down his hip.
Come on, come on.Nolan shifted, trying to make things easier.
“Got it,” Micah said, strain in his tone. “Trying to open the blade. I… yes. Got it. Hard to… crap. Wait. Ouch!” The sound of duct tape ripping came as a welcome relief. “All right, ankles.” Another rip. “Yeah, ow, pins and needles but I’m free.”
“Do you know how to use a gun?”
“I’ve never touched one.”
Well, fuck, so much for giving him the one in my left hand.Nolan was not going to pass a newbie a loaded handgun on a rocking boat. He told Micah, “If you saw where they put the duct tape, get it.”
