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“We don’t want to take this with us,” Hooker said. “If there’s someone on the boat, we don’t want to chance dropping this into their hands…whatever the hell it is.”
“Don’t expect me to help you carry it into the jungle. I’ve already done the spider-leech thing.”
“We can drop it in the water. It’s about fifteen feet deep at the first bend. No one will find it there.”
We got into the RIB and Hooker motored us downstream. We dropped the canister and continued on to the harbor entrance, where we sat for a half hour, watching Hooker’s boat. It was midday and the jungle was steaming. No breeze and a hundred percent humidity. The air was condensing on my forehead and running down the sides of my face, dripping off my chin.
“Do you have air-conditioning on that boat?” I asked Hooker.
“Yep.”
“Take me to it.”
We cruised over to the Happy Hooker and circled it. No sign of life.
“Do you think the bad guys are on board, waiting for us?” I asked Hooker.
“Yep.”
“Do you think we could make Miami in the RIB?”
“What’s your relationship with God?”
“It’s shaky.”
“Then I wouldn’t count on making Miami in the RIB.”
“I’m feeling a little vulnerable in my underwear.”
Hooker gave his head a shake. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you. I should have been smarter.”
“Not your fault. You were great. You picked leeches off my head with your bare hands.”
“I almost threw up. Good thing I can drive, because I sure as hell couldn’t wrangle leeches for a living.”
We sat off the starboard side for another ten minutes. Neither of us said anything. We were listening. Finally I got restless.
“Let’s get on with it,” I said to Hooker. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s tie up to the dive platform.”
“I’m not going to tie up,” Hooker said. “Stay in the RIB and I’ll look around. You know how to work this thing if you have to, right?”
“Yes.”
Hooker looped the line once around to stabilize the RIB and climbed out. “If you have to take off, try to get to the mainland. It’s all I can come up with.”
I watched him cross the deck behind the fighting chair and open the cabin door. The door partially closed behind him. I heard him yell “Barney, go!” There was a gunshot. And Hooker reeled out of the cabin and collapsed onto the deck.
The guy with the slicked-back hair and his partner appeared in the doorway. The partner had his foot completely wrapped in a bandage. The guy with the slicked-back hair had his arm in a sling. Slick and Gimpy, I thought. They both had guns, and they didn?
??t look happy to see me. No surprise there.
“Lucky me,” Slick said. “My favorite person. I can’t get rid of you. You’re like a bad rash. Where’s your brother?”
NINE
I couldn’t believe they shot Hooker. He was facedown on the deck, and he wasn’t moving. My heart was in my throat, and I was so enraged my vision was blurred.
“Get in the cabin,” Slick said, motioning at me with his gun.
