“I’m grateful.”He leaned in, his lips brushing hers, a faint, mineral bite of pool water tinged his lips, cool and crisp like the thrill chasing her pulse.He pulled back, a playful glint in his eyes.“You any good at swimming?”
She let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head.“No.”
“Good.”He flashed a mischievous grin.“Race you to the other side.”
She flicked her wrist, sending a playful splash of water his way as he launched forward, his strong arms slicing through the pool’s shimmering surface.She took her time, her strokes slow and deliberate, enjoying watching him glide ahead.The water lapped gently against her skin, and a warmth bloomed in her chest, her mind drifting to quiet mornings and shared laughter in years to come.
Near Northwest Providence Channel, Caribbean Sea
Jean Desalin sat alone at the bow of the private yacht, the Caribbean night air humid and heavy with salt.The vessel rocked gently, anchored just beyond the radar range of the cruise line’s private island in the Bahamas—silent, waiting for Claude’s signal from the night shift confirming they had taken out the island’s radar.Its low creak groaned against the hull like a held breath, muffled by the lap of dark waves whispering threats below.
The yacht owners’ blood stained the teak deck, a reminder of their violent takeover of the vessel.Jean’s notebook lay open on his lap, pages dense with scrawled plans, timelines, and names—too many names, too many points of failure.He did not like how the plan had shifted.
Behind him, the yacht’s deck split into two worlds.Six of his countrymen, hardened by Port-au-Prince’s streets, clustered near the stern.Any other night, they’d pass rum around a table covered with dominoes, but tonight demanded sobriety.Five Chinese operatives, Liang Wei’s handpicked men, kept to the cabin’s shadows, their Mandarin clipped and faces blank.No mingling, no need to form friendships—just a shared goal: twenty million dollars’ worth of weapons and explosives loaded tomorrow, smuggled to Haiti via the cruise ship.
He would have the hardware to overthrow the current government, save his people, and maintain power against the pig Americans.Of course, China would have a toehold very close to the American empire.Not a bad price to pay.
They would sneak the weapons in through the cruise line’s Haitian island, and by the time anyone even knew something had happened, Jean and his fellow patriots would have dispersed the weapons into the hands of his loyal men.
Jean’s jaw tightened as he mentally went over the next twenty-four hours.They would secure the island at 0400.One radar ping, and the plan crumbled.They had to take control of the island before anyone suspected their motives.The entirety of their plan hinged on that little scrap of sand in the water.While Jean did not plan to engage in wholesale slaughter, he recognized that before dawn, some corpses would litter the sand.Such costs came with revolution.
They would then shuttle the remaining staff off that island to another one they had stocked with supplies of food and water.The next morning, Marie would call the Royal Bahamas Defense Force and give them the location of the hostages.
His mind flicked to another issue—the VIPs.Jean finally received some intelligence concerning the possible armed resistance they may encounter.While his assets aboard the ship had not gathered the identities of the principals, they had informed him that security personnel guarded them night and day.Jean assumed these men came from, at best, a personal security company or, at worst, were trained mercenaries.Given that the principals were all American—they had at least confirmed that—a personal protection firm seemed much more likely.
Regardless, the additional scrutiny the VIPs brought to this voyage had upended his crew setup, forcing out four plants and doubling the scrutiny of the staff.Bad timing, bad luck.The extra security could choke their window when the ship weighed anchor at the island tomorrow.Thankfully, they had reinforced the island team with the four extra bodies.
More problematic was the news that the entire VIP party did not plan to disembark and head to the private island along with every other passenger during the mandatory ship exercises.Apparently, they intended to remain aboard and perform a wedding ceremony during that time.That meant Jean would have to contend with them somehow.
While it aided his cause to know that the ship’s Captain would be in the Sky View Chapel along with the American VIPs, their mere presence during his planned takeover of the ship caused him some concern.Daphnée would want to simply kill them all.Wei would probably not object so as to avoid any entanglements between China and America.Jean preferred to have some hostages to use in case he needed leverage in the future.
He fisted his hands, impatience clawing his chest.Too many moving parts in too many different spots.Marie leading on the ship, Claude on the island, René and the others playing loyal crew.He hated not being everywhere, not gripping each thread himself.The cruise’s passengers did not worry him.They were unarmed, and many would over-imbibe on the free rum offered on the island.They likely wouldn’t realize anything had even changed until the weapons were already offloaded into Haiti and the entire “crew” of the ship disappeared into the jungle with them.
A trained security detail, though, their experience taught them to sniff out trouble.Even though they went into this with the goal to avoid killing any passengers, they might not have a choice.Their protocols, communication with the chain of command, and their very presence risked the mission.The wisest thing to do would be to strike swiftly and surely.
Henri and Julien came up onto the deck.They immediately found him in the dark.“Papa,” Henri said, “Mama has food for you.”
He nodded.“Any word from the cargo ship?”
“Oui,” Julien said.“They are waiting on location.”
He looked at Henri.“Did you stock the island with water and food?”
“I did.And Marie and I checked the dock yesterday.It should work.”
Jean slapped his hands on his son’s shoulders and stood, boots scuffing the deck.
He turned and headed down into the belly of the yacht.As he walked down the stairs, he smelled the spices of the chicken he knew Daphnée prepared and suddenly realized the depth of his hunger.They would have a long day tomorrow.Now he needed to fuel and rest.
“Why NCO?Why not officer?”
Jerry looked up from his perfectly prepared lamb chop.“Hmm?”
Olive set aside her napkin.“What made you decide to be an NCO?Isn’t your father a retired colonel?”
He looked at the tables around them before speaking and kept his voice low.“Yes.He was an 18 Alpha, a team Daddy, then went on to USASOC and JSOC, then a bunch of other duty stations before heading back to USASOC and retiring as a full bird.”
She pursed her lips.“But you enlisted.Didn’t go the officer route.”
