“Anna’s mother. Where?”
Tom pulled up another picture. “How about him?”
“Sergei, her partner. Where are they?” I asked. “How did you get those?”
“Bodrum, right where they said. Next town up the coast. There’s a marina I stay at there. Contact of mine got these shots. By the way, they charter out speedboats up that way. Won’t take them long to get here.”
“Whoa, Tom, that’s pretty amazing.” I groped for words. “Who do you really work for anyhow?”
“Oh, pshaw. Work is just another four letter word. Right now, though, we’ve got to put our heads together and figure a way to get you out of here. With or without Anna.”
Nothing had a point without Anna, but I sure as hell couldn’t say that to Tom. Regardless, the last thing I wanted to do was sail away in an overloaded yacht for absolutely no reason. On our way back to Shadow, with Tom panting to keep up, I suggested, “The first guy I see with a speedboat, I’m paying for a fast ride to Rhodes… Greece… the free world. Nothing keeps me out and I don’t need to sail a yacht to the other side of the bloody planet.”
When Tom got me stopped so he could catch his breath, his response was unequivocal. “Stop and think about it a minute. You’re still here, you’re still alive, so is Anna. You’ve got friends, Turkish friends, I know that, for a fact!” He sat hard on a bench. “Not to mention me and I’ve got a few friends.”
“I know that, but without Anna, what’s the point?”
“You don’t think she’s coming back?”
“Frankly, no. You saw those photos, you heard the letter.”
“If she thought you were a bloodthirsty killer, think she’d have left the pictures and letter lying around for you? Think the pricey catamaran would still be tied up, sitting pretty?” Tom checked his pulse, he was wheezing. He didn’t sound good. “Point is, you are safe here, for now. You go flying off, half cocked and that Sergei fellow will be on you like the taxman at harvest time. Finish loading your yacht, we’ll get you out of here. Go to Rhodes for all I care but I’m thinking, with or without Anna, Shadow’s your best shot.”
“Car, taxi, what about that?” I didn’t want to face the yacht we’d plowed months of our lives into without Anna. I didn’t even want to think of it, although I could see it from the bench, maybe 50 meters from us. Turks were loading provisions.
“You don’t see the cousins because they don’t want you to. But I’d bet my bottom dollar they see you, are watching you, might even be in a car with the engine running just waiting for you to hit the open road. Nope, Jess. You’re getting out on that yacht tonight. Don’t think we haven’t got a plan and it’s not already in motion.”
Tom and I hefted the last of the boxes, and I signed the delivery order. I’d taken on more than a ton of provisions.
“Any sign of our friends from Bodrum?” I asked Tom, looking around. The catamaran was still deserted.
“Contact’s keeping an eye on things. Last I heard, maybe an hour back, they split up. That Sergei fellow stayed behind. Way I see it, The Skater’s driving rented wheels to circle round the back, so to speak, and Sergei’s taking a fast boat right up the channel into the bay.”
“How much time do we have?” The tension was already twisting my guts into pretzels and there’d been no sign of Anna. I felt for the phone in my pocket. I didn’t know if she’d taken hers.
“Not much, but first we’ve gotta get you by those cousins.” Tom waved.
Sure enough, the cousins were walking along the seawall, heading for their boat, grinning like idiots. Anna wasn’t with them.
Groceries were stowed. The entire front of the boat ahead of the mast was packed tight — floor to ceiling in two cabins. The cabin I’d thought would be Anna’s along with my own cabin was stuffed with soft items like clothing, extra sails, life jackets, and bedding, leaving just enough room to lie down. Tom approved, “One really wants to be wedged in tight at sea.” While I had been at customs and Sinem and Anna were visiting the wholesalers, Erdem and Tom had used electrical tape to surreptitiously rename Shadow SPLASH-DOWN. They rechristened the decoy charter yacht, SHADOW when they tied it alongside as camouflage.
“You have diesel fuel and propane for the stove?” Erdem asked.
“Yes, filled all the tanks last time we were out.” Sinem answered.
“I topped up the freshwater and the desalinator checks out fine.” It was Tom.
Hearing everyone checking things off drove it home that I really was about to launch myself into the sea — and that was if all went well. It just hadn’t seemed real until then. I felt as if I were counting down to my own execution. I’d never sailed anything on my own and without Anna, what had been our home for the last two months felt like a tomb. I dialed Anna’s number and heard her phone ring in her former cabin. My heart sank. It was time to go.
With the activity on deck wrapping up and the sun nearing the horizon, we started implementing the escape plan Tom and I eventually worked out. Sinem and Erdem repacked the sails on the decoy Shadow and started to decorate it as though for a party. The stereo was turned up, balloons and streamers were hung, and lights were switched on to draw attention to the decoy. Fake Shadow was a veritable party platform. Omar had come down from his office to join us. Nobody said anything about Anna’s absence. It was a stone in my heart as the countdown continued.
It was getting darker. Sinem, and Erdem were dancing on the forward deck and toasting with virgin cocktails. Security even came by to say there had been a complaint about the noise. The two of them boisterously announced our intention to take our party to town, “For some dancing and serious clubbing.”
The Russians on the catamaran watched us, bored. They fidgeted with their cell phones and passed a bottle back and forth. Tom and I slipped over to the newly named and re-flagged SPLASH-DOWN. Below deck, we finalized the plans, coming up with radio codes, a satellite communication schedule, and an exchange of encryption keys. I really appreciated his insistence on data and communication security.
Ready to sneak back to his own yacht, Tom saluted, furrowed his brow and cogitated for a moment. Then he dismissed whatever was bothering him with a wave. “Nah, you gotta do it. Nothing I can say except, ‘see you on the other side.’”
Omar left with a handshake and, outside the pool of light cast by the fake Shadow, he quietly untied the lines. Out of sight, Sinem and Erdem changed into the hoodies Anna and I had been wearing despite the heat. The three of us embraced in a group hug, probably unnerving Erdem. Then the two of them, hoods drawn, got back aboard the fake Shadow and started the engine. I stayed below on the real Shadow. Omar crouched on the seawall beside my yacht, waiting to untie its lines on my signal.
In complete darkness, and now all along on my yacht, SPLASH-DOWN, I broadcast on the marina’s VHF frequency, “Area traffic, this is sailing vessel SHADOW departing marina southbound. Conflicting traffic please inform, sailing vessel SHADOW.”
I heard Sinem rev up the fake Shadow and maneuver the brightly lit charter yacht into the passage between the docks. I could see the cousins on the catamaran scrambling frantically to get untied and underway. Not fast enough and Sinem and Erdem blasted by the bows of the catamaran, well in excess of the marina’s posted speed limit. Still, far slower than the catamaran would be capable of going in a few seconds.
Radio microphone keyed, “Marina traffic, sailing vessel SHADOW underway, clearing dock foxtrot and heading for the breakwater.” I could hear my radio call echo from the catamaran as its engines roared to life and lights came on. The Russians had fallen for the bait but would catch up and catch on in short order. Tom, aboard his own yacht, was already gliding toward the fairway between docks golf and foxtrot. Hearing my radio call, and seeing the decoy speed past, he eased his vessel across the end of the fairway, blocking the catamaran. Tom killed his engine.