The Bari Bones Page 4

  Sam sat back in his chair as he contemplated the gravity of the situation then nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll be aiding in his escape,” Khalil intervened.

  “He’s not guilty. I believe the boy,” Sam said.

  “We have no proof of that, only his word,” Khalil argued.

  “Then we’ll find proof. We’ll hunt down the murderer and prove his innocence,” Alex exclaimed. “But first we need to get him home and see what we can do for his mother.”

  “Then it’s agreed. We’ll stay put here for the night and set sail at first light,” Sam confirmed.

  “I’ll take the first shift,” Alex declared while taking a fresh towel from a nearby cupboard before directing the boy to the bathroom and his cabin.

  “First shift. What do you mean?” Khalil uttered with slight panic in his voice.

  “We have the boy and even though we know he doesn’t have the manna, our Chinese friend doesn’t. He had reason enough to kill a priest over the stuff so it’s fair to say he’ll be hunting down the boy.”

  Khalil rubbed his hand over his bearded chin and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

  “We’ve got you, Khalil, don’t worry,” Alex said, placing a spread of cold meats, cheese and flat bread on the kitchen counter.

  “The guy is an experienced killer, Alex. I mean no disrespect but you’re a woman. How are you going to keep us safe?”

  “Oh, this wife of mine isn’t like any other woman, my friend. She has skills of her own that will send any assailant running. Trust me.” Sam tucked into the food, motioning for Khalil to help himself.

  “So you’re on your honeymoon, on the South coast of Italy, and yet here you are caught in the middle of a murder. You could just let us go to the police and let them straighten it out.”

  “Did you have a good look at the lad? They’ll throw the boy in a cell and he’ll go down for murder. He wouldn’t stand a chance. Trust me, mate, in our line of work we’ve seen it all. Things aren’t always cut and dried.”

  “Your line of work. What is that exactly?” Khalil pushed.

  “Private antiquity recovery. If we can put it in simple terms, we’re the good guys, trained by the professionals to handle exactly these kinds of situations,” Sam assured their new associate. “Come on, my friend. I suggest you get some sleep and leave the rest to us. You’re in good hands.”

  When Khalil and Stavros stepped out on deck the next morning, Alex and Sam were on the flybridge helm. Bari was already a fair distance behind them as the small luxury motor yacht navigated its way through the Adriatic waters in the direction of Stavros’ remote Ionian island.

  “You look like you slept well considering how anxious you were last night,” Alex commented as Khalil took a seat next to her.

  “Like a rock, yes. It’s easier when you let go and allow God to protect you,” Khalil responded.

  “Seems our young man also slept well. Any chance he remembered anything else about our Chinese friend?” Sam nudged.

  “Nothing that makes any sense,” Khalil answered. “He’s just heartbroken to have to return home with nothing. How far do we have to go?”

  “We should be there by late afternoon,” Alex answered while pouring them some orange juice.

  “That’s if all goes well,” Sam added, his voice slightly burdened.

  “Why wouldn’t it?” Khalil responded.

  “One should never be too complacent in these situations, Khalil. We had a suspicious looking drone hover over our boat last night.”

  “Might have just been some curious tourists. We have a lot of them flying around during the summer,” Khalil suggested.

  “Probably, except this wasn’t any old shop-bought drone. It was unmistakably high tech. Besides, we were too far away from the harbor which would mean we’d have been out of range for any of the commercial ones,” Alex commented.

  Khalil grew silent and stepped to one side to light a cigarette.

  “That stuff will kill you mate,” Sam remarked.

  “You sound like my wife, but you’re right, of course. I’ve been trying to quit for years.”

  The hull sliced through the deep blue water, leaving behind white waves under the boat’s powerful engines. Alex searched their surroundings through her binoculars, spotting only a commercial ferry in the far distance and a small pod of dolphins rushing through the water. Even after a few hours, when both Khalil and Stavros took to a game of chess on the main deck, she remained on watch next to Sam. When her back stiffened and she jumped to her feet during another routine scouring through her binoculars, Sam realized she had spotted something.

  “What is it?”

  “Looks like another boat,” she answered as she adjusted the strength of the lenses.

  “What type of boat?”

  “A speedboat and it’s heading directly toward us.”

  “Let’s not take any chances. If it’s our Chinese friend, it’s very likely he’s armed with more than just a knife and I’m certain this time he won’t be alone. You should get them downstairs and gear up,” Sam cautioned, taking the binoculars from her.

  Alex leaped down the ladder to the main deck. “Get downstairs and don’t come back out until I tell you to,” she instructed as she rushed past Khalil and Stavros into the kitchen.

  “Why? What’s happening?” Khalil asked, encouraging Stavros to do as they were told.

  “We might have some company. It’s just a precaution but it’s best you both stay out of sight. Can you shoot?”

  Khalil stared at the Smith and Wesson .38 Special in her hand.

  “It’s loaded—five bullets in the cylinder. There’s no safety. Just aim and shoot, but whatever you do, try not to shoot into the floor.”

  Alex placed the revolver on top of the counter before retrieving two more guns from the cupboard. She dropped the magazine of her Glock 17 in her hand and checked that it was loaded before doing the same with a second gun, placing them in her waistband, one on either hip. She reached into the cupboard once more, unzipped a black rifle bag and clicked the scope in place. Khalil stood motionless next to her, his eyes pinned on the weapons.

  “It’s for self-defense only, Khalil. We’re not in the business of killing people,” she said, placing his hand over the revolver he hadn’t yet taken off the counter.

  “As long as the two of you stay down here you’ll be fine. Only shoot when your life depends on it, okay?”

  When Khalil finally locked himself and Stavros into their cabin, Alex rejoined Sam at the helm.

  Chapter Six

  “Everything okay down there?” Sam said as he handed her the binoculars.

  “He’s not the shooting type that’s for sure.”

  “Hopefully it won’t get to that.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. Whoever they are, they’re gaining on us,” Alex reported.

  She took one of the Glocks and placed it in front of Sam on the dashboard. As the yacht motored its way through the glistening turquoise waters of the Adriatic sea, Alex kept her eyes fixed on the boat that trailed behind them. As they drew nearer, gaining by the minute, she distinguished the figures of three men on board the fast approaching speedboat.

  “There are three of them and they’re definitely armed. Looks like automatic rifles. How far away are we from Corfu?”

  “At least another two hours but it’s pointless to try and beat them there. This yacht wasn’t made for speeding through choppy water,” Sam replied. “I’m already pushing her more than I should.”

  “Then we have no choice but to fight them when they catch up to us. I’m ready.”

  Alex crouched against the backrest of the seating on the flybridge and positioned her Remington 783 across the back of the seat. Using her rifle’s scope she set her target on the men in the speedboat. All three of them were masked and now in an upright position. Sam had switched the engines to a steady speed on autopilot and took his position next to her. Armed only with his Glock and the binocular
s he fixed his sights on the men. They were standing up, their weapons pointed out from their waists toward the yacht.

  “Well, what do you know? They’re Chinese all right. If I’m not mistaken those are military issued QBZs,” Sam commented, focusing his lenses on the weapons.

  “Military issued? They’re not in uniform. Do you think they’re a renegade group? Why would rebels be after something with absolutely zero religious significance to them?” Alex queried.

  “Not sure, but we’re about to find out.”

  Sam’s words had barely left his lips when a series of bullets flew over their heads and clanked off the metal railings in front of them. With the precision of a trained sniper, Alex fired and hit the shooter in his shoulder, catapulting him overboard as their boat hit a wave behind the yacht. Instantly the remaining two men opened fire, blasting several rounds through the windows on the main deck of the yacht. The driver pushed the speedboat forward alongside the yacht, affording his sidekick the opportunity to jump on board. From behind the safety of the seating inside the flybridge, Alex fired off another bullet into the speedboat’s engines. A tendril of black smoke curled from the engine though it still appeared fully operational—not what she had hoped to achieve. Down below, Sam descended on the intruder with an onslaught of punches and managed to seize his weapon, kicking it across the main deck. When the attacker came at him with a knife, Sam moved to the side and locked his arm around the man’s neck. Coming to his associate’s defense the driver of the boat fired off a series of bullets at Sam who instinctively used his attacker’s body as a shield. Bullets ripped into the man’s chest before the impact pushed both him and Sam flat onto the deck. A single bullet left Alex’s rifle and sliced through the driver’s arm causing him to jerk the steering wheel to one side. The boat spun out of control in the wake of the yacht and Alex fired off another bullet into its engines. This time clouds of black smoke wafted into the air moments before it caught fire and exploded.

  “Sam!” Alex shouted, while she pulled the yacht’s kill switch from the dashboard. Rushing down to the main deck she found Sam lying underneath his attacker’s inert body.

  “Sam, can you hear me?” Alex shouted and pushed the barely alive attacker off him.

  Sam didn’t show any sign of life. She moved his head from side to side looking for any bullet wounds then moved her eyes to his torso. His shirt was drenched in blood. Uncertain whether it was the attacker’s or Sam’s, her fingers ripped through the thin fabric. Much to her relief there were no signs that he had been shot.

  “Sam, talk to me,” she said sternly. Still he didn’t react. “Sam, can you hear me?” She slammed her fists down hard onto his chest. The pounding was enough to bring her husband back from his unconscious state as he drew in a sharp breath.

  “You’re okay, just breathe,” she instructed before turning her attention to the wounded assailant next to her. He was still alive but several bullets had pierced his chest and arms. She pulled the mask off his face and, as expected, recognized the man to be of Chinese descent.

  “Who are you?” Alex demanded an answer but the man’s glazed-over eyes stared back at her. He was barely alive. Again she pushed him for an answer. “Who are you? Why are you after the manna?” Still he didn’t answer. Instead he spat a ball of blood into her face. Alex ignored the act of disrespect, shaking him by the shoulders. “Tell me who you are, you coward!” she shouted.

  Still the man didn’t respond. A faint sadistic smile came over his face just before he gasped for air, his mouth full of blood, and exhaled his last breath.

  “Is he dead?” Sam groaned as he tried to catch his breath.

  Alex nodded. “You okay?”

  “I will be once I can breathe again. The bugger knocked the wind out of me.”

  “His body saved your life. That was quick thinking.” She helped Sam to his feet and set him down on the nearby chair. “I should go check on the others.”

  Alex descended into the hull and found Khalil on the floor halfway up against a cupboard, his shirt drenched with blood.

  “No, no, no! What have you done? Sam!” she shouted back for help.

  A quick glance over revealed Khalil had been shot in the abdomen but was still alive. She grabbed a dish towel and pushed it down onto the bleeding wound. He was at least lucid and responsive but was losing blood fast.

  “Go check on Stavros,” Sam said when he staggered down the steps and fell to his knees next to Khalil.

  “What have you done, mate? We told you to stay in the cabin,” Sam said as he lifted Khalil’s back away from the cupboard.

  “I tried to help,” Khalil groaned with pain. “I thought I could help,” he moaned again.

  “It’s going to be okay. Just relax,” Sam answered while his fingers ripped through his bloodied shirt to inspect the wound.

  “I can’t die,” Khalil moaned again.

  “You’re not dying today, Khalil. Looks like the bullet passed right through you, my friend and, judging by the location of the exit wound, the bullet just missed your kidneys.”

  Moments later Alex returned having left Stavros in the cabin.

  “He’s fine, in shock, but fine.” She looked at Khalil’s drained face where he now lay flat on his back. “How bad is it?”

  “Once I stop the bleeding and stitch him up he should be just fine. It’s a through and through. Miraculously the bullet missed all his vital organs. I suspect it hit a blood vessel or two so I’m going to have to act fast before he loses more blood. I’d say he’s one lucky man.”

  Alex lifted Sam’s medical supplies bag out from the storage compartment under the seating and opened it onto the floor next to him. In typical fashion Sam was fully prepared for any eventuality; his medical background served him well.

  “The yacht seems intact; apart from the broken windows and bullet holes everywhere. These guys meant business, that’s certain,” Alex reported as she hooked the IV bag onto the cupboard’s handle above her head.

  Sam didn’t answer and she watched as his hands skillfully moved over Khalil’s bullet wound. At times like this she was convinced he missed being a doctor but he never talked about it and she never asked.

  A little over an hour later Sam had managed to stop the bleeding. Khalil was in a stable condition, sedated and recovering in his bed. As to be expected, Stavros was badly traumatized by the series of events that had nearly killed him twice already and Sam thought it best to give him a mild sedative too.

  Alex had steered the yacht a safe distance away from where the speedboat’s debris still floated somewhere off the coast of Albania. Apart from the shattered windows and bullet holes in the furniture, she had managed to restore the boat to a semi decent state and gathered most of the bullet casings along the way. Sam eventually found her, standing hands on her hips over the assailant’s dead body.

  “There’s nothing on the man. No identity, no phone, nothing,” she said.

  Sam squatted down on his haunches and ran his eyes over the body.

  “What about tattoos?”

  “I’ve already checked. There’s nothing.”

  He pushed one of the sleeves up anyway. When it didn’t reveal any markings he proceeded to do the same with the other one. There was nothing but a cheap gold wristwatch.

  “You were right, by the way. They shot with QBZs but I’m very certain these guys weren’t in any Chinese law enforcement agency.”

  “I agree. So unless they managed to somehow buy the weapons on the black market, my guess is they had friends in high places who supplied their weapons. That certainly also accounts for the high-tech nature of last night’s drone. It could’ve locked into our GPS which explains how they managed to find us in the middle of the ocean.”

  “Well, then let’s hope it blew up with the boat,” Alex added.

  Sam slipped the watch off the dead man’s wrist in the hope of finding an inscription but there was none. Alex tilted her head to one side when she noticed the small marking on the
inside of his wrist and traced the raised lines on his skin.

  “Can you read Chinese?” she joked.

  “Last time I checked I couldn’t, but Google can. Why?”

  “It looks like he was branded.”

  Alex flicked through the screens on her phone and copied the text to an app. She frowned. “That’s odd. It’s just a number. Forty-nine. Mean anything to you.”

  Sam shook his head and rose to his feet. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Then why was it hidden under his watch?” Alex queried as she took a photo of it with her phone.

  Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea but I know he can’t stay here. We’re going to have to throw him overboard, Alex… gun and all. We can’t leave any traces behind. If they are as connected as I suspect, we’ll end up dead or in a Chinese prison and never see daylight again. But one thing is clear. These guys were acting on orders and whoever sent them won’t stop until they find the boy. We need to cover our tracks and make sure he’s safe. As long as they believe he has the manna they will continue to hunt him down.”

  “Then we need to find the manna before they find Stavros.”

  Chapter Seven

  Though still baffled by the man’s obscure etching, Alex helped Sam dispose of the body and whatever evidence they’d managed to retrieve on the yacht. They knew the body would eventually wash up somewhere, but they took every precaution for it not to be traced back to them. As dusk fell across the ocean and Khalil and Stavros remained asleep in their cabin, Sam steered the yacht onward to their destination.

  Alex was restless as she sat next to Sam in the flybridge. It was late spring and the sun’s last orange rays were disappearing beneath the waves of the dark blue ocean. As she continued to stare out over the sea, the cool evening air had her pull a chunky knit throw over her legs and tuck it in under her armpits. In the distance, Corfu’s lights danced on the horizon and her thoughts trailed to the teenage boy down below deck whose lot now fell on them. His courage was admirable, she thought, as she made a mental note to enquire about his age when he woke up. To have journeyed the distance he had, all in the hope of a magic fluid gathered from a centuries-old skeleton, took more than courage. It took faith. She tried to recall how it was that she knew the Bible story about the manna, but she couldn’t and instead soon found herself pondering over what Khalil had lost, all in the name of his faith.