While the data was transferring, she decided to dig into any communications between anyone at Fend Aerospace and the ship.
There were two account IDs listed at Fend. She couldn’t trace them to a name right now. But if she could get into the Fend database later, she would be able to match them up. She added those files to the transfer.
Her eyes darted up at the sound of two security men walking out onto the observation deck. One of them held a silenced pistol, pointed at Renee.
“If you’ll come with us, please.”
It occurred to Renee that perhaps her tour of the ship should have stuck to places visible to potential witnesses. She hit a series of keystrokes that locked her computer and wiped her hard drive, then closed the laptop.
Renee said, “I’m a guest of Mr. Morozov—”
“We just received instructions from Mr. Morozov. He wants you below deck — now.”
They threw Renee in a small bedroom deep in the bowels of the ship. They had taken her computer, but it was useless now anyway.
The room looked like it was meant for the crew. Bunk beds pressed up against the curved wall. Very little storage. There was a guard outside. At least one, by the sound of it.
She waited in the small room, cursing herself for not listening to Max. She’d just wanted to help. To make up for almost getting them killed in Georgia. And to prove that she was worthy. It was a colossally stupid motivation.
During hour one, Renee convinced herself that Morozov wouldn’t kill her. She was an American. And people had seen her.
During hour two, the door opened up and a towering man entered. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
He watched her for a moment before speaking, his eyes examining every inch of her. “My name is Mikhail. What is yours?”
She didn’t respond.
He said, “They want me to find out what you were doing with your computer. They say that you erase everything on it. I say, no problem. You will be good to Mikhail. You will tell me what you were doing, and then maybe we let you go?”
Her lip began to quiver, so she bit into it. Her voice was hushed and hopeful. “I was just sending my husband an email. I forgot to bring my phone and…”
He slapped her hard across the face.
The force of the impact sent her onto the floor. Her left ear rang. She placed her hand against her cheek. She could feel it swelling up. Involuntary tears streamed out of her left eye.
Mikhail spoke in a casual manner. “So we will try this again. You tell me truth this time, yes? Then I don’t hit you. Or, you can lie to me again, and I hit you. That is how we do this. Yes?”
Renee began to cry.
Mikhail clicked his tongue. “Oh, my pretty little girl. Do not cry. Mikhail will take good care of you.”
The large man knelt down over her. She was still in a crumpled heap on the cold floor. Mikhail’s thick fingers stroked her cheek and then wandered downward. Caressing her satin dress. His thumb and fingers cupping her breast as he looked into her eyes. She could smell the stench of his breath.
The movement was so fast. He gripped her by the arms and brought her back to a standing position. Then he tore her dress at the seam, pulling it down so that it began to reveal her body.
Mikhail smiled, nodding his approval. “Yes. You will tell Mikhail everything. Yes?”
She looked away and nodded. Tears streaming down her face. “Okay.”
A knock at the door.
Mikhail yelled in Russian, a clear annoyance in his tone. No reply. He frowned and went over to the door, cursing.
He opened the door and found himself staring at Max Fend’s silenced pistol. The unconscious body of a guard on the floor behind him.
Max eyed Renee, her cheek red and swollen, her dress torn and half hanging off her. Max turned back toward Mikhail and fired two shots into his chest. The big Russian fell backwards into the lower bunk and then collapsed on the floor, a shocked expression of pain on his face.
Max turned and grabbed the other Russian in the hallway, dragging him into the room.
Renee began sobbing and started hugging Max.
“I’m so sorry, Max.”
Max closed the door almost all the way and held a finger over his mouth. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Calm down. We need to get out of here.”
She wiped her tears away with her arm and tried to pull her dress back up over herself. “Any ideas?”
A single, prolonged horn sounded throughout the ship.
Renee said out loud, “What was that?”
“One long horn blast — it means the ship is departing the port. The yacht is leaving.”
Renee felt a rumble in her feet, and the sway of the deck as it began motoring away from the pier.
“Let’s go. Follow me, and be quick about it. Don’t make a sound.”
Renee did as instructed, walking down the carpeted hallway. They wound through the ship’s passageways, and she began to wonder where he was taking them. Then Max opened a watertight doorway and motioned for them to go in.
The two of them entered into a cave-like room at the aft end of the ship. Renee realized they were in some kind of boat-launching chamber. A pool of dark water took up most of the center of the room. Two small Sea-Doo watercraft were tied up on either side of the pool.
Max smacked his fist against a red button on the wall, and a spinning yellow light came on. The huge aft wall separated, revealing the dark ocean outside. The lights of Key West were in the distance.
As the rear doors opened up, the pool water began whirling and sloshing around, the ocean water now seeping in.
Max spoke quickly as he untied one of the Sea-Doos. “Get in, they’ll find those two guards soon.”
Max and Renee jumped in. As Max started up the Sea-Doo watercraft, Renee said, “How were you able to—”
“Charlotte.”
“She let you on board?”
“She wasn’t here. I called her. But she’s in Jacksonville — she did, however, tell me the name of the company that was catering here tonight.”
“So you snuck on with the caterers?”
Max put the Sea-Doo in reverse and they began drifting backward. “There isn’t a lot that five thousand dollars in cash won’t solve.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“I found one of the guards and persuaded him to tell me.”
They backed up into the black ocean, rolling on the wake of the yacht. When the Sea-Doo was about fifty feet behind the yacht, in open water, Max took the throttle out of reverse and put it into neutral. They floated there for a moment, Renee’s hand on his shoulder. She stood in back of him, watching the massive vessel sail away.
“They have my computer and purse,” she said.
“Was your ID in there?”
“No. And I wiped the hard drive — but they’ll still be able to tell what information I was accessing from their own network. If they’re any good, they’ll probably figure out what we were up to.”
“It won’t matter. We got what we needed, right?”
“I think so, yes.” She placed her body close to him as he ramped up the throttle, speeding over the waves and back toward the shore. She was shivering.
Max and Renee made it to a quiet dock and tied up the Sea-Doo. They walked to the street and hailed a cab back to their rental place. They quickly grabbed their personal items and then had the driver take them to the airport. The cabbie was happy to take a break from ferrying around the drunks who stayed until close.
Max started up the Cirrus while Renee paid for the FBO fees. He kept looking around. It was a dumb idea to leave the Cirrus at the Key West airport. And it might have been dumber to go back to it. Morozov’s men had seen them fly away in Georgia, so they knew that they used a small plane. There weren’t very many general aviation aircraft at Key West, relatively speaking. Not when compared to cars.