CHAPTER THIRTY

"Once the storm has fully passed, we'll move on, sir," said the captain.

"Alright, but we need to move quickly. I think we might have some people on our tails, and I'd rather not meet with them today," he sneered, sipping his bourbon.

"I understand, sir."

"John!" he yelled for his second in command. "John, where is the best location for us to go at this time?"

"You're not going to like it, sir, but it's either the north or south poles. There's a lot of space, no one around, and we're close enough to civilization that we'd make it if we needed to get away."

"What about fuel and supplies?" asked Kaplan.

"We'd have to bribe the vendors for that. Or take what we want and move on. Either way, it won't be easy, but the alternative of just sailing around isn't easy either."

"No one will offer me a port?" he asked.

"I've called everyone, sir. Pakistan, Yemen, Iran, Iraq, Oman, Jordan, Georgia, Budapest. Anyone that you've ever helped or done business with."

"And what is their reason for not helping me?" he seethed.

"The men who are after you, sir."

"I see. So, these so-called powerful nations are afraid of a few old men. Cowards!" His man stared at him, and Kaplan knew he had something to say, something to add. "Out with it."

"You know as well as I do, sir, that these aren't just old men. They don't lose. They don't give up. They won't stop until they find us, and we'll all be dead when they do. It doesn't matter what the capabilities of this ship are. They will have something better."

"You too?"

"No, sir. Not me too. I'm still standing here. I'm still willing to put my life on the line for you."

Kaplan said nothing for a few moments letting all that information swim in his head. He'd never encountered any of the men that were chasing him, and he'd hoped he'd never have to. I guess fate was pushing them together.

"What about the men on the islands? Are they taken care of?" John cleared his throat and stared at his boss.

"The islands were empty, sir. All of them. No dead bodies, no bones. Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing?" he screamed. "Where the fuck did they go? That was a few dozen men, John. They didn't just swim away."

"We suspect they were rescued, sir."

"Jesus," he muttered, hoisting himself out of his cushy sofa. He spilled his bourbon and cussed, swiping it with his foot. "If those men live, they will testify to the U.N., and I won't be able to put my face anywhere."

"Maybe we change your face. We could go to South America, get plastic surgery, and then head south. Spend some time in the cold, healing, then find somewhere else to set up business."

Nodding, he smiled at his man.

"That's a good idea, John. When the men have everything loaded and are back on board, let's set sail. We have our location."

John left him alone to stare out at the still-angry sea. He didn't mourn his brother's passing. There was no need. He'd made a foolish error in going out there with the girl only to keep her from the Russian. She was a commodity. That's all.

When the storm came in, he should have moved faster. End of story. Now, it was all on him. That was fine, actually. He didn't mind that at all. After all, everything that had belonged to his brother was now his.

He'd thought about bringing a few girls on the boat with him, but that would only distract him. It wasn't like he could enjoy them without a little help. Taking the pills only made his heart rate elevate, which in turn made his blood pressure elevate.

No, he was better off handling things by himself when they occurred. Which was rare. He did love watching the beatings, though. It was something he'd developed a love for with his father. He would invite him and Lawrence to observe when men or women were being beaten.

Lawrence didn't care much for it, but he delighted in the sight and smell of blood. The pathetic, weak human beings not saying a word for fear that the beating would be worse. That was exciting.

John walked back into his private living space with a strange look on his face.

"We have to leave now, sir. The men have gone missing, and we're not sure if they've abandoned ship or were taken."

"Do we have enough men to run the boat?"

"We'll manage, sir." Kaplan nodded, trusting this man with his life.

"Then let's go."