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“I’m probably going to fucking hate it, but what is it?” asked Eric.
“The Trade.”
“Get us a fucking boat,” growled Tobias. “A boat, dive suits, cannisters, everything.
“Where is she? What did she say?” asked his wife.
“I’m not sure where she is, but she has help. A man was with her.”
“Not a surprise,” frowned Amy.
“She sounded different. I mean, when I had to tell her why she needed to come back, she didn’t give in. She just blew up.”
“I don’t give a shit, Lucas! I’m not doing it again.”
“They don’t want you again,” he said, looking at his wife. “You know they only like a woman a few times, and you’ve done it several times now.”
“Yes, well, we all have to do what we need to for the family.”
“She said they may have made her unable to have kids,” he frowned.
“Like she would ever have children, Lucas. She’s been sleeping with random men for years. She didn’t even know half those hook-ups were minor debt payments. We were lucky they were all her type. I don’t give a shit,” said Amy. “We need her to come back, Lucas.”
“Where are the kids?” he whispered.
“They’re asleep in their cabins below deck. Are we going to leave for St. Thomas today? We have to get away from here.”
“Yea. Yea, we’re going as soon as the supplies arrive. I didn’t want to risk docking in Miami, so there’s a service bringing everything out to the boat.”
“Okay,” she nodded. Standing, she bent over his chair, kissing his cheek. “I’ll go get everything clean and packed. I wish we still had the maid and nanny, but I understand that we need to cut back for a while.” He got up and looked out the windows.
“Looks like the supplies are here. Let’s get ready to sail.”
CHAPTER NINE
The Florida weather was playing in their favor. Dark storm clouds loomed above them, rain coming down in sheets asThe Tradebobbed up and down in the ocean ahead. Keith, Eric, Billy, Wilson, and Tobias pulled their masks down. Their faces were blacked out with paint, making them unrecognizable.
Nearing the yacht, they slowed at her rear, near the engines. Carefully stepping aboard, weapons drawn, they slowly made their way to the upper deck. There was no one in the bridge, the gleaming mahogany looking untouched.
Keith turned, shaking his head. No sign of anyone.
Going one deck below, there was a television playing a children’s channel. Puppets were laughing having fun with one another.
“I don’t like this,” said Wilson. “Where is everyone?”
Billy stood at the top of the stairs, looking below deck. His weapon was drawn, but he relaxed, leaving it hanging by his side.
“I don’t think we’re going to like what we find down there.”
The others moved closer to him, staring at the blood-stained carpets, bloody handprints on the walls. Finally making their way to the family cabins, Keith stopped at the first door, setting his weapon down against the wall. He knelt beside the bodies of the two little boys, feeling for a pulse. Turning to the others, he shook his head.
“They’re both gone. Shot in the head.”
“I found the parents,” said Eric.
The others followed him to the end of the hallway. Lucas and Amy Mackenzie were lying side-by-side on the bed, their hands bound behind their backs, their mouths covered in duct tape. Their end was perhaps more merciful than they deserved. One bullet to the head, just like their innocent sons.
“Look,” said Tobias, pointing to the wall.
