He and Jean-Luc traversed the starboard deck, one covering the other, moving in a leapfrog pattern. The most hazardous moment lay ahead: crossing to the stairs. Way too much open space between the gunwales and the stairwell for his liking, especially now that the kidnappers knew they’d been boarded.
They reached the spot parallel to the stairwell. He considered his options. Fuck it. Thea needed him, so he’d have to break radio silence to figure out what was going on.
“Team Tango, where are you? Over.”
Seconds stretched with no answer. Then the sound of live fire greeted him. “Deck C, starboard. Surrounded. Fire blocking us from aft. Over.”
“Coming. Out.”
Scanning the deck, he signaled to Jean-Luc. Rif would cover his teammate, then cross solo.
Jean-Luc sprinted across the open space. Out of the darkness, four black-clad kidnappers brandishing Kalashnikovs surrounded the older man. Rif considered firing, but even if he eliminated two or three of them, the fourth man would execute Jean-Luc.
Instead, he became invisible, moving deeper into the shadows while the kidnappers frog-marched Jean-Luc toward the bridge.
He followed, a predator stalking his prey. Thea would have to wait a little longer.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thea fired shots down the smoke-filled corridor. She was almost out of ammo.
Several grunts and screams pierced the air.
Silence. She waited, fingers tightening around her MP5.
“Friendly fire.” Brown’s familiar voice echoed down the hall. She snuck a quick look. Brown and Stewart were striding toward them.
“About time, gentlemen. Do we have to handle all the dirty work?” She coughed, the smoke a corrosive presence in her lungs.
Brown surveyed Johansson’s bleeding shoulder. “Come on, mate, if you don’t want to change the baby’s diapers, you just have to say so.”
“Screw you, buddy. I’ll be a better one-armed parent than you would ever be with two.”
“Hey!” She pointed down the hall. “We need to get back on deck. Grab the captain, and let’s find Rif and Jean-Luc.”
They rushed down the hallway, desperate for fresh air. They stepped over two bodies. She helped Johansson up the stairs. His skin was ashen, eyes glassy, but he was moving under his own steam. Brown led the group, searching for hostiles. Stewart helped Captain Magnusson, who was unsteady on his feet.
They hurried to the stern, meeting up with Neil, who was guarding their boats. They left him and Stewart in charge of getting Johansson and the captain into the relative safety of the cigarettes.
She and Brown returned to a shadowed overhang near the bridge. Movement caught her eye. Four armed kidnappers surrounded Jean-Luc, and the group was headed straight for the bridge. No sign of Rif.
One of their own, captured. A ransom drop was a dangerous time during kidnappings. Emotions skyrocketed; the kidnappers became paranoid and trigger-happy. If anything went sideways during an operation, all hostages were at risk.
Her gut told her Papa wasn’t on board. But if these pirates were in touch with whoever was guarding Christos, they could easily end his life in retribution for her counterattack.
They needed to re-hijack the tanker.
But what about Rif? He’d told her he was headed belowdecks. Was he injured, hiding somewhere—or dead? Her stomach twisted. He wouldn’t let Jean-Luc get captured without a fight. She sent out the signal to meet back at the bridge and waited for a response. Nothing.
She tried again, her finger trembling on the button.
A confirmation beep sounded in her ear. Relief flooded her body.
Rif was alive.
Crouched under the overhang, she used hand signals to communicate with Brown. He gave the okay sign and faded into the darkness, positioning himself to attack the bridge.
Seconds later, a large shadow morphed into a man. Rif touched her hand, and their eyes locked. He looked away first, but not before she read him. Shame. She knew the feeling well, but now wasn’t the time.
She signaled her plan, and Rif suggested a good adjustment. Looking him right in the eye, she used signals to confirm he wouldn’t change the plan without communicating with her first. He nodded. She rarely doubted his battle strategy; like a chess master, he calculated every step ahead. She’d need to keep an eye on him, though. He was in warrior mode, at his most dangerous, and they needed to capture one or more of the kidnappers alive.
They moved into position. She and Brown trained their MP5s on the guards while Rif crept closer to the bridge, masked by darkness. She pressed the signal button. One soft beep. Then they opened fire on the guards, dropping one. Rif charged the bridge, flashbang in hand. He tossed the stun grenade inside. A loud blast erupted, obliterating their vision for about five seconds, causing a temporary loss of hearing and balance.