a prayer for those lost. Simultaneously, she cursed those responsible straight to the bowels of hell.
“Can’t say for sure,” Bran told her, his jaw sawing. “I think all but two.”
Before Maddy could fully digest the horror of that, the voice from above sounded again. “Madison Powers!”
“Who is that?” she whispered. And on the subject of bowels, hers threatened to loosen every time the man screamed her name.
“Hell if I know.” Bran tossed the strap of her machine gun over his shoulder. “I only got a peek at him before coming down here. Thirty-five years old. Sorta slick-looking. He’s holding an older man in a pearl-snap shirt and Wranglers hostage.”
A pearl-snap shirt and Wranglers? Dread started at Maddy’s toes and filled her until she was pretty sure she felt it leaking from her ears.
“Well, I reckon we better go find out what he wants, yeah?” she said, impressed with how steady her voice sounded.
Bran hesitated for a second, the look in his eye saying the last thing he wanted to do was to take her above deck. Then he puffed out a ragged breath and glanced over her shoulder at Alex and Rick. “You two stay here and guard the girls.” Great minds. “This ain’t over.” Gulp.
“Be careful.” Alex grabbed Maddy’s arm again, giving it a squeeze. Her grip was strong, but her palm was clammy, her fingers shaking. “And if you see Mason, tell him to be careful too.”
Maddy searched her eyes, seeing in them a whole host of familiar thoughts and feelings. “You got it,” she assured Alex, giving her hand a squeeze before following Bran down the narrow hall and up the stairs to the bridge house.
The dread that had filled her was now something darker, a thick, murky foreboding. She wasn’t going to like what she saw, who she saw, on that yacht. She knew it.
Bran stopped at the door to the bridge house when he heard the captain’s voice. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I have men down! I’m requesting assistance at the following coordinates and—”
Bran pushed open the door, and Maddy peeked around him to find the captain sitting on the floor, his back to the console, a satellite phone in one hand, a pistol in the other.
The pistol was aimed right at Bran’s heart.
Maddy nearly fainted.
“Careful, Captain,” Bran said easily, ducking into the room and dragging her down so their heads weren’t visible in the windows.
“What the hell is happening?” Webber demanded. “Who the hell—”
“You know as much as we do,” Bran said, cutting him off. “Now where’s your other man? Mason is down on deck guarding this whole ship by himself, and I know he’d appreciate some backup.”
“Backup?” the captain asked hysterically. His eyes were wide and unblinking. “All my men are dead.”
“All of ’em?”
“See for yourself.” The captain waved a hand at the bay of windows. “I count three on the yacht and two more on the deck below. My whole damned crew!”
From her spot crouched by the door, Maddy couldn’t see the carnage he was talking about. And she was glad for it.
“Fungule!” Bran cursed, scooting over to the row of windows and tapping on the glass. He flashed a hand sign Maddy assumed was meant for Mason down below. The gist of the gesture, she reckoned, was something along the lines of You’re on your own.
“Last chance, Madison Powers!” the man on the yacht called again, and his voice pierced her eardrums like an ice pick.
“Steady,” Bran said when he saw her startle. He motioned for her to follow him across the bridge to the line of windows facing the yacht. “Stay on your knees and peek above the sill ’til you can see ’em.”
I don’t want to see them. I just want to crawl into a cabin down below and forget any of this ever happened.
But her daddy hadn’t raised a coward. So with a firm chin and a quaking stomach, she did as instructed. At first sight of the men, she gasped, her vision tunneling as shock and confusion washed over her like a tidal wave.
“I take it you know ’em.”
“Yes.” She nodded, unable to believe her eyes. “The one with the gun is Tony Scott. And the man he’s holdin’ hostage is my uncle.”
* * *
1:19 a.m.…
“Uncle Gene!” Maddy called through the window Bran opened to allow himself a clean shot, should he need to take one. “A-are you okay?”
Her uncle tilted his head back and scanned the windows of the bridge house. Bran knew the instant the man