Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,153

his buddy, rolled him over, then slung an arm around his neck and under one arm to keep him face up. The engines revved. And smooth as silk… Persia Smiles eased away from the dock.

Goff finally had everything he needed to hurt Walker. He had Persia.

Like. Hell.

By then, Alex had swum to his side. “I’ve already called shore patrol,” he sputtered, treading water as the yacht’s wake rolled over their heads and into their faces.

Walker shoved Ryder’s limp body into Alex. “Take care of him.”

“You’ll never catch Goff,” Alex growled as Persia Smiles puttered past the docked cruise ship on her way to open waters.

“Bet me.” With one last look to get his bearings, Walker dived, then kicked upward and rolled his hips and shoulders into the same speed stroke that had brought him from Cuba to Florida not long ago. Once again, he was swimming home. Only this time, that home was Persia.

The world disappeared as his powerful arms pushed water and the futility of what he was doing, out of his way. He had room in his head for Persia. Only her. Walker filled his mind and heart with his one good reason to live.

Stroke after stroke took him closer, but he still had to slow every minute or so to clear the water out of his eyes and keep on target. The yacht had to move slowly through this crowded channel, but she was gradually slipping ahead, and, inch by inch, Goff was getting away.

No. He. Isn’t.

Walker threw himself into his task. SEALs never quit. Goff should’ve known that. Throw a SEAL a bone and what did you get? A shiv carved from that bone and stuck in your gut. This was it. The day he’d been living for. The crime he’d been condemned for. The day he finally killed his CO.

As if on cue, a rusted garbage scow chugged between Persia Smiles and the end of the channel. The yacht slowed. Walker advanced. Powerful forward strokes brought him within reach. And there it was. The rope he’d draped over the rail the day he, Brim, and Rover had gone swimming. The just-in-case rope, dragging behind the yacht like a good luck charm.

Shit. Where is Brim? Walker cursed himself for not thinking about his friend until now. The last time he’d seen the old guy, Brim had been ashore and taking Rover for a walk. But finding Brim had to wait.

Silently, Walker took hold of that rope, looped it around his fist, and pulled himself forward. Timing was everything. He needed to breach the aft deck, make damned sure Persia was okay, then end Goff. He’d be in the cockpit, steering the yacht toward the open ocean. He’d never know what hit him.

The garbage scow must’ve cleared out of Goff’s way. The yacht picked up speed. The gentle wake became a torrent. Hand over hand, Walker forged ahead. He kept his head down even as a deep burn began in his biceps and pecs. Burn was good. Every inch gained brought Persia closer. It did!

Fighting the weight and drag of the water rushing over him, at last, Walker was close enough. He slapped one hand onto the swim deck and dug in. Then the other hand. Like the SEAL he would forever be, he pulled himself aboard, inch by inch, then peered under the aft deck railing. Persia still lay on the recliner, out cold and covered. The weapons everyone had dropped were gone from sight, no doubt tossed overboard. Goff wasn’t in view, but that rat bastard Rodrigo was still belly down and out cold.

Running a quick hand over his face, Walker scrubbed the last of the seawater away. Over the rail he went, his eyes fastened on the cockpit door. Gently so as not to wake her, he placed a hand on Persia’s bicep. She was warm and breathing evenly, and there was his SIG, right where he’d left it, hidden within the wrinkled blanket.

He palmed the pistol, checked the breech to make sure it was still loaded, then crept stealthily into the master stateroom. He’d left something hidden there, and he needed it now. The universe really did provide.

Back on deck again, he headed up the few steps to the cockpit, his pistol in one hand, the ‘surprise’ in the other. His way forward was clear. Goff needed his day in court.

He never knew Walker was behind him until Walker stuck his pistol in the base of his skull. One shot would sever his