Caribbean Gold

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Beneath the calm waves there lay a quiet, confused world of drifting bodies, shattered timbers and more than one glinting bauble. Visibility was average though and allowed Alicia to pinpoint the exit as she swam closer. There was the brief kicking of heels ahead, underwater splashes, and then the last of the escaping mercs was gone. She struck out faster, hating the below-sea-level environment, but more concerned about her safety than her wishes at that point. The rest of the team were close by, bruised but still ready to fight.

The exit was little more than a narrow cave entrance, barely wide enough to accommodate the small galleon that Alicia assumed must have been sailed in during one of the few times a year it was accessible. Moss hung across the entrance and slithered across her skin as she swam by. Her lungs burned steadily, needing to breathe. Once through she arrowed up toward the surface, embracing the light that brightened with every kick of her legs. Crouch got there first and then Healey, but finally Alicia breached the surface.

Letting the water drip from her face, clearing her eyes, she quickly evaluated the ever-shifting horizon. Jensen’s white seaplane was anchored offshore, just as they’d spotted it from the air. Many pairs or arms swam toward it now, cutting hard through the clear, blue waters. The sun beat down relentlessly, already starting to dry the droplets on her skin. Alicia took a deep, sweet breath.

Russo started a strong crawl in pursuit of the men. By chance the plane lay close to a rock promontory and it appeared most of the mercs were making for dry land first rather than the plane. Maybe they had stashed gear there, or had taken boats from the main island since there were surely too many bodies for the plane alone.

That said, it wouldn’t surprise Alicia if Jensen hadn’t strapped a few to pontoons, wing struts and any other surface he could think of.

The Gold crew struck out for the rocks, staying low but keeping their weapons as much out of the water as possible. Sometimes they had to be submerged and should still work fine, but there was no reason to tempt fate. Russo aimed for a point behind the mercs as they scrambled out of the water, finding it hard to gain purchase on the saturated rocks, some falling back and others cracking their heads and bruising bones.

Alicia gathered her breath. “Steady on, Robster. Looking at those guys, you’re about to experience a calamity.”

“Once.” Russo shook his head. “I misjudged once.”

“And you’ll pay for it forever,” Healey said.

“One more comment and I’ll have your ass, Myles.”

“Ooh, promises, promises. Just name the place and position.”

Russo choked on seawater, head momentarily going under. Crouch hit the rocks first, found purchase, and pulled himself up. Healey helped Caitlyn and then Russo approached the jagged pile.

Alicia swam at his back, waiting.

“Wanna hand? A well-placed finger will have you squealing to the top of that pile in half a second.”

“Just stay away.”

The soldier heaved himself out and then Jensen’s men spotted them. Guns were drawn and shots fired. Crouch and the others took cover behind the rocks and started to creep forward. Alicia trod water for a while, watching the scene with frustration.

Why the hell didn’t I just jump out? Now I’m stuck her whilst the guys face a firefight. You’re such an idiot, Myles.

It all reminded her that she was in the crux of a big change, but some things were destined to remain exactly the same.

As if she’d ever stop taking the piss!

The rock cover was good, and the ways between them slippery but safe. The mercenaries were more concentrated on escape than confrontation, and soon began diverting their attentions to the plane and inflatables that lay tethered to the rocks. Alicia used the distractions to climb quickly out and shrug off a waterfall.

“Bloody Alsatian in more ways than one,” Russo muttered.

Alicia eyeballed the man. “You’ll pay hard for that.”

“Already am, Myles. Already am.”

The staggered, haphazard firefight continued steadily, the Gold Team creeping ever nearer. The mercs began to thin out and Alicia saw Jensen and his nearest cronies board the seaplane. She saw he had a further half dozen mercs with him who started to tether themselves to the plane. She lined up a shot, but at this distance with a handgun it was a useless effort. Better to keep the bullets.

The seaplane started up at the same time as several of the outboard motors belonging to the inflatables. Alicia took out another merc but the rest were already aboard and waiting for the escape.

She saw it all coming down to the last map.

Jensen took off and veered around in the air, coming above them and holding both hands out of the window. The rest of the doors stayed shut and then Jensen’s face popped out into the open.

Alicia had him dead to rights, but knew she couldn’t fire. Only criminals did that. The good guys had to wait to be fired upon first.

“You murdered more than half my crew! For no reason! You won’t leave me be! I’ll come for you all, believe me. After Morgan’s treasure I’ll be concentrating all my efforts on you and yours! I’ll wipe all of you out!”

The face pulled back and the plane went on its way. Some of what Jensen said was torn away by the winds but Alicia got the general gist.

“What a knob.”

Russo took a rock pew, wiping his face. “So what next, guys?”

“Panama City.” Crouch grimaced. “It was the last place Morgan sacked before returning to England where he thought he’d die. It’s the last map.”