AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I sit up straight in bed, soaked in sweat at the prospect of being taken into custody by foreign agents. I have no clue who they are and what they want, but they’re making their presence loud and clear in the early hours of the morning. That level of boldness is never good.
Taylor jumps up in bed as I’m getting out, her face twisted in a similarly tense worry as mine. “What the fuck is that sound?”
“Police,” I grumble, grabbing a pair of linen slacks from the drawer and stepping into them. “And I doubt they’re here to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
“Oh my god, I’m going to jail,” she says, pulling the covers away from her body and flinging them onto the floor. “I’m so fucked.”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “You’renot going anywhere. I’m going to go outside and see what this is all about, and I’ll be damned if I let some wisecrack Mozambique cops take me away in handcuffs.”
“Don’t go out there!” she yells as I grab a shotgun from the closet. “Please, stay here with me. We can run. Isn’t your submarine still here?”
I take her by the waist and kiss her, unsure if it’ll be the last time I taste the sweetness of her lips. “Be good, Taylor. Don’t let anyone in here, even the police, okay? Hide under the bed or something.”
“Or something?”
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, my frustration building. “I’m not taking you with me. Just hide and I’ll come back for you.”
“You promise?” she asks, her eyes wide with fear.
I can’t make that kind of vow, but I do anyway. “I promise,” I say, and then I leave the room to face our early morning intruders.
Outside, the police siren is still tearing through the dewy morning atmosphere. The sun is up, shining across the humid landscape as I walk out into the front yard. My guards have vanished, and I’m unsure if they’ve gone to face the police or decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.
Motherfuckers. I bet half of them are wanted by their government, and that’s why they’re hanging out on this island collecting paychecks. Part of me wonders if the police aren’t here for me, but one of them.
Still, I can’t take any risks.
I creep toward the trees, staying low and gripping my shotgun so tight that my knuckles feel like they’re about to split. I can still hear the siren, but it hasn’t come any closer. It’s blaring from the shore, probably from one of the police boats that’s found itself there.
Sticks crack underneath my bare feet as I push further into the trees, listening closely for voices. I hear nothing at first, but as I move closer to shore, I can make out the local dialect of Mozambique.
How did they get here so quickly after my arrival, and furthermore, what business do they have with me? I haven’t done anything illegal here, as far as I’m concerned. Maybe they’re just after one of my guards, after all.
I move so close that I can practically hear the fish in the water, and only then do I spot the police huddled around their boat. It appears to be damaged, and their siren may very well be a call for help.
But do I risk being seen? Stepping out to offer help could end with a chest full of bullets if they judge me to be a threat. A large Russian man wandering out of the trees shirtless and carrying a shotgun isn’t exactly an image of peace and altruism.
I stay in the shadow of a large palm tree, watching the police closely as they argue over their boat with the alarm still blaring. I wonder how they can even hear each other speak over all the noise.
Suddenly, they start running toward the trees like they’re fleeing a threat. They’re heading straight toward me, which is going to guarantee them a nasty buckshot wound if they’re not careful.
But these men have thrown all caution to the wind, all five of them kicking sand up behind them as they sprint away from the water.
I’m so fixated on their movement that the large boat sailing toward the beach almost escapes my attention. When I finally look up at it, I realize that the police aren’t the ones I should be worried about.
I know a boat owned by The Red Council when I see it. They’ve proudly painted it blood red, with a big X on the side to symbolize their intentions to do away with anyone who stands against them.
They’re bold. I’ll give them that, but they’re not very wise. Chasing a bunch of Mozambique police onto my island is going to land them in a world of trouble. It would only take one call to have the Mozambique military down here to deal with them.
However, I’m not in the business of dealing with government organizations. I made a deal many years ago with one politician in particular, but I have nothing to gain from inviting them to crawl over my island. I’m sure they wouldn’t take kindly to the guns and ammunition I have stockpiled here, nor the American woman lacking a proper visa.
The Red Council would be the least of my worries at that point.
I turn back to the house, not eager to face the police or The Red Council should it come down to it. I know they’re here for me, but that doesn’t mean they intend to rush the island on foot. They might wait it out near the dock so they can blast my submarine out of the water the moment we try to leave.
I make it back to the house before the police even reach to the trees. They’re burdened by their equipment, whereas I’m running around half-naked. Hopefully, I have enough of a head start on them to take a defensive position on the second floor before they arrive.
I can’t assume they’re going to be friendly just because we share the same enemies. They might’ve come here for me and found The Red Council instead.
