your family pays, there’ll be no problem. If they don’t, then this is what’ll happen.”
The captain nodded at Jimmy, who came down from the bridge and tucked his weapon into his waistband. Together, they bent down, lifted the body, and threw it off the back of the boat. The sharks immediately went to work, tearing it apart.
“Tell your families they have one hour.”
The captain took the shotgun from Angie, who then removed five fully charged iPhones from a bag and passed them out to each of the horror-stricken princelings. They watched the sharks rip at their chaperone’s flesh and were unable to look away.
“The cameras on those phones don’t work, by the way,” said the captain, attempting to break the spell of the sharks, “so don’t get any bright ideas. Tell them your situation, send them the wiring instructions, and hang up.”
Looking at his mate, the captain then said, “Let’s take a little cruise, Jimmy. Not too far out. I want to make sure we remain within cell service, so our bank can let us know as soon as that money starts rolling in.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” the mate said as he bounded back up to the bridge and fired up the engines.
“Angie,” the captain called to the hostess, “I think I’d like that rum runner now.”
“Anything you say, Captain,” the young woman replied as she disappeared inside to fetch his drink.
The faces of the young Chinese were a mixture of shock, fear, and contempt. The captain smiled and motioned for each of them to hurry up and make their calls. One by one, they all started to dial home.
As soon as the calls had been placed, Angie collected the phones and the students were herded into the salon. After their hands and feet were bound, they were ordered to sit on the floor. While Jimmy piloted the yacht, Angie sunned herself on the rear deck and the captain sat in a comfortable chair near the students, shotgun across his lap, sipping his drink and watching satellite TV.
• • •
Forty-five minutes later, the mate slid down the ladder from the bridge, stuck his head in the salon, and said, “Captain, come quick. We’ve got a problem.”
Several of the princelings looked up hopefully.
“Angie,” the captain yelled, “get in here and keep an eye on them.” Handing her his shotgun, he added, “If they move or make a sound, shoot them. All of them.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she replied and fixed the students with one of the coldest stares they had ever seen. The woman was obviously no stranger to violence and meant business. Not a single princeling made a sound.
From where they sat, with their backs against the couch, they could see out the opposite window. On the horizon a bright orange dot had appeared and was coming closer.
Soon enough they could not only see the U.S. Coast Guard chopper but hear the pounding of its rotors.
When it was almost overhead, there was a voice from the helicopter’s loudspeaker. “This is the United States Coast Guard. Drop your weapons and halt your vessel.”
From outside, the students heard two shots, and they exchanged terrified glances.
There were two more shots and then suddenly the engines went dead.
“You! Inside the vessel,” the voice boomed over the PA once more, “come out with your hands up!”
“Do as they say, Angie!” the captain yelled. “Do it now!”
“No!” she screamed back.
The helicopter could be heard repositioning outside and suddenly a heavy rope hit the aft deck. Seconds later, men in tactical gear with submachine guns slid down and stormed the salon and bridge.
The hostess tossed aside the shotgun just before being slammed to the floor by the Coast Guard team. Wrenching her arms behind her back, they FlexiCuffed her as two men raced forward to check the rest of the yacht.
A chorus of “Clear! Clear!” rang out as they searched each room and then returned to the salon. As they did, their colleagues entered and threw both the captain and his mate to the floor and made them lie, facedown, with their hands FlexiCuffed behind them.
Within fifteen minutes, two U.S. Coast Guard ships were on scene. Once the Chinese students had been transferred over to one of them, that vessel turned and headed back for land.
It was then that the head of the tactical team cut the boat’s “crew” loose.
“You boys play rough,” said Sloane as she rubbed her raw wrists.
The Coast Guard officer smiled. “You should have seen those kids’ faces. They were freaked out.”