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Christian prayed the man would move just a little so he’d have a shot, but Cyrus held behind Mr. Beaumont just right.
“Now,” Cyrus said. “Toss me your guns.”
“Not happening,” Christian said. They released their weapons and they were dead.
“I’ll kill him,” Cyrus said, still jabbing the muzzle of his gun into Mr. Beaumont’s temple.
He wasn’t bluffing. It was only a matter ofwhenhe would kill Mr. Beaumont, notif. Christian stilled his racing heart, focusing, zeroing in on Cyrus and his twitchy movements. He needed to play this right, so they bought more time to save Beaumont.
“Go ahead,” Christian said. “You’ll be dead as soon as you drop him.”
Andi’s face stayed fierce in his peripheral vision.
“Now!” Cyrus’s face strained, the veins along his forehead turning a nasty shade of purple.
“Not happening.” Christian’s aim remained steady.
“Up the stairs, Casey,” Cyrus ordered Ethan with a tilt of his head.
Ethan nodded and backed up the stairs, his gun on Andi until he disappeared out of sight.
“Okay, old man,” Cyrus said, keeping the muzzle of his gun aimed at Beaumont with one hand while he easily loosed the sailor’s knots binding the elderly man in place. He yanked Beaumont to his feet and positioned himself so there still was no shot. They backed up the stairs.
Andi looked at Christian, her brows pinched. “What are we waiting for?”
“We’re giving them time to get in the yacht’s raft. That way Cyrus doesn’t feel cornered, and then we give chase.”
SIXTY-NINE
“NOW,” CHRISTIAN SAID,and they flew up the steps.
They stopped just long enough to untie the two crewmembers from their bonds.
The woman bent forward from the waist, sobbing and clutching her stomach.
“The Coast Guard should be here any moment,” he said. “Apprise them of the situation. We’re going after Mr. Beaumont.” He wished he could promise them the elderly gentleman would be okay, but with Cyrus, he couldn’t be sure.
“Something’s not right with the one,” the man said. “Be careful.”
“Agreed, and we will.” He’d protect Andi with his own life if need be.
An outboard motor sounded. “We’ve got to go,” he said.
They raced for the platform and dove into the dark waters, swimming for the fast raft. Reaching it, they both rolled in over the side. Andi pulled up the sea anchor, and Christian started the engine and directed the raft toward land. Cyrus had to be heading back in.
“Here,” he said, racing forward, bouncing and jarring over wave after wave. “Take this.” He handed the floodlight to her. “Sweep it in front of us.”
“Will we catch them?” she asked. “That poor man.”
“We’ll get them.” They had to. “Hold on tight,” he said as they swept over another wave.
She gripped one of the handles with her free hand, still sweeping the light over the surface and the crashing waves.
They flew over the water, soaring above it as they came over the curl of the waves.
“There,” she said, the light landing on the yacht’s Zodiac raft. Cyrus steered the craft, Ethan up front, and it looked like Mr. Beaumont lay on the raft’s floor.
“We’ve got them,” Christian said as they gained on them.
