Page 12 of Anchor (First to Fight)

The helicopter touches down on the helipad where Tyler's car still waits where he left it. The whole island is quiet, like everyone is holding a collective breath until the tragedy has passed.

I use the keys I'd snagged from Tyler with a silent apology as I crank and steer the cruiser back to my house.

Based on snatches of conversation from their headquarters, a rescue effort will begin within an hour unless contact is made with the captor, which won't bode well for the hostages. If interrupted it's much more likely the night will end in bloodshed.

I park the cruiser behind a copse of squat palm trees and unlock my house. Rudy greets me with a loud yap. I let him out of his cage and he sprints out to piss, then follows me into my workshop where I store my gear.

There's no telling what kind of situation I'll be getting myself into, so I spare nothing. I change into a serviceable wetsuit and water shoes, then shoulder my gear.

The dock is quiet as I slip into the shadows of night, except for the distant buzz of activity. Water laps against the side of my boat and I drop my bag in the passenger seat. The engine turns over with a gentle purr.

An immediate calm settles over me as I navigate through the dark water. I keep my lights on low not wanting to attract attention.

There's a chill coming off the water since the sun has gone down. I have my suit to protect me but a civilian wouldn't. The cold may not be enough to kill them outright but it wouldn't help their chances of survival if they get tossed over.

When I get close enough to see the outline of the ferry in the darkness, I cut my lights and allow my eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Silence.

It's not a good sign. Neither is the fact that the captor hasn't contacted negotiators.

While my boat idles in view of the ferry, I pull out my binoculars to study the activity on the boat. There isn't much to see at first, but I'm patient.

I notice movement on the lower deck. I refocus and find a mass of people huddled together on the bottom floor. They're all on their knees with their hands behind their backs.

From the significant distance, I can't make out a threat with any certainty, so I inch the boat as close as I can without arousing suspicion. Once I'm close enough to make out more detail I find the majority of hostages gathered on the floor.

I don't assume there aren't more because assumptions in any dangerous situation never end well.

When I find no one threatening on the first level, I raise my gaze to the second.

And that's when I find her.

My daughter described her as a princess and even across the space between us, I couldn't agree more. She's the type of woman who should be in a man’s bed being pampered, not crying anguished tears with a madman hovering behind her.

What the hell is she doing there?

I put down my binoculars and maneuver my boat around the back of the ferry. Based on diagrams I've got, there is a hatch to access the back of the engine room on the lowest level. My best chance at accessing the ferry undetected will be there, provided the asshole has no extra surveillance set up.

Either way, I’ll to be ready for anything he has planned.

I’m coming for you, asshole.

Chloe

The collar itself isn’t uncomfortable like I thought it would be. It resembles dozens of other necklaces I’ve chosen myself, though much heavier. I wonder how he constructed an explosive on such a small scale. Then I think about whether or not it will effectively mutilate its intended victims.

Then I stop thinking about it altogether.

I gaze out the front window and try to ignore the man with the weapons chaining people to their death. I’ve never had the luxury of taking cruises—I’ve never given myself the time off from work, let alone had enough money left over from bills to save for one of the main cruise liners operating out of Jacksonville.

But if I could have, I imagine it would be something like this. The gentle lapping of the water against the side. The constant magical sound of waves in the distance and night air laden with salt and sea.

If I don’t think too hard about the circumstances, the night could almost be beautiful.

Almost.

He hasn’t told me where to go, so I keep the ferry moving in the same direction the captain was going before I took over. On this course, we’ll surpass Rockaway Island and head right out into the Atlantic, going southwest toward Miami. At least, that’s what the navigation panel in front of me says.