Dual deception, p.18
DUAL DECEPTION, page 18
Molka stopped the truck alongside the dock. Laili remained in the passenger seat while Molka and her team assisted the three captives from the back, onto the dock, and toward the waiting captain.
The captain addressed the lead crewman. “Make them comfortable in the cabin aboard Betrayal.”
“Aye, captain.”
They moved off.
Molka remained with the captain. “What’s your plan for those poor girls?”
“We’ll take them over to the RVIP in Road Town, on Tortola,” the captain said.
“What’s the RVIP?”
“Royal Virgin Islands Police. This is the BVI’s jurisdiction.”
“They should be taken to the hospital first.”
“Of course. I’ll see to it. And congratulations, Lady Molka. You’ve solved the ‘zombie girls’ mystery. You’re about to be a local legend.”
“Well, I would appreciate my name being kept out of this legend.”
“Enough said. And Lady Giselle?”
“They were drugging the girls, and Giselle was a little woozy. But she has a freakishly strong system and seems to be quickly shaking off whatever they gave her, and she has no visible injuries. I’m taking her to the hospital to get checked out anyway. She’s said she’s alright and doesn’t remember much. But…”
“Enough said.”
Laili exited the truck with the AK-47 still slung on her back and approached Molka and the captain.
The captain greeted her with kind compassion. “Lady Giselle, I’m overjoyed to see you alive and well, or as well as can be hoped, considering the circumstances. I apologize for our tardiness. We just this afternoon heard of your distress.”
Laili viewed the kneeling prisoners. “What are you going to do with them, give them to the cops?”
“No. Pirate’s creed. We handle our own disputes. I’ll ransom them back to Señor Delgado. If he refuses to pay, they’ll be allowed to join my crew and work off their ransoms.”
Laili moved to the prisoners.
Walked down the line.
Viewed each face in the dock lights.
Walked back down the line.
Viewed each face in the dock lights again.
Centered herself facing the prisoners.
Took two steps back.
Unslung the AK-47.
Racked it.
And in quick succession:
Executed man number three with a headshot.
Executed man number seven with a headshot.
Executed man number ten with a headshot.
The crewman guarding the prisoners lurched back.
The surviving prisoners cowered, and some begged.
Mister Cutter jumped from Betrayal with his sidearm drawn.
The captain waved Mister Cutter off.
Molka gave no reply. She understood.
Laili lowered the weapon, made it safe, and returned to Molka and the captain. “I’m sorry, captain. Those three won’t be able to bring you any ransom. They took turns with us for hours before you arrived. Hope you understand.”
The captain closed his eyes and spoke with a soft seriousness. “I understand, Lady Giselle. And I understand it is impossible to suffer without making someone pay for it; every violation already contains revenge.”
Laili handed the weapon to Molka. “I’m cold and tired, captain. Can I go lay down inside Vengeance?”
PROJECT MOLKA: TASK 4
PROJECT LAILI: TASK 1
DAY 10 OF 10
CHAPTER 45
Laili pounded the dash. “If I had just one more day, I could have gotten Paz away from her. It’s your fault that stupid doctor kept me 24 hours for tests. I’m totally good. I didn’t even want to get checked out in the first place. Thanks a lot, ugly.”
Molka smiled. “You’re welcome, brat.”
Laili rode passenger in Molka’s car and vented after Molka informed her that the Davidov-Thorsen wedding was still on. She had just received a 6AM hospital discharge, and they drove to Yacht Marina Grande to retrieve her car.
Molka brought her a clean crop top, jean shorts, and her tennis shoes. Molka wore a white polo and khaki shorts.
For task security, Molka and Laili didn’t disclose to the doctor and nurses the circumstances behind her drugging. If they had, their recommendations would have been contacting law enforcement and years of counseling.
The former was not possible, and Laili didn’t want to discuss the latter. She chose suppression and anger as her follow-up treatment and made Molka promise not to tell Azzur.
Molka interrupted Laili’s vent. “What time is their ceremony today?”
“They’re having two ceremonies. One o’clock at the temple and then two o’clock at the church. Then the reception will be held on Outcast from four until seven, when the happy couple will sail off into the sunset on their new life together.” Laili’s lips curled into a sarcastic grimace. “How fucking romantic is that?”
Molka shrugged. “Actually…very.”
“When we get there, I want to say hi to Paz. I mean goodbye. I’ll probably never see him again.”
“Ok. He was really happy when I told him I found you.”
“What did you tell him?” Laili said.
“Just that you went to a party with some strangers and passed out.”
“I really hope Gus is there too.” Laili checked her phone. “He’s not answering my messages. I want to show him I’m alive.”
Gus wouldn’t be there. If he was smart, he would be in Caracas with his fellow predator friend, Weinberg.
Maybe Molka would tell Laili one day what her good friend Gus had done to her. But not that day.
“Azzur’s going to kill me for failing,” Laili said.
“Probably. But he’ll also find a way to get them divorced before they get back home. And speaking of which, if Caryn is there, don’t start anything with her.”
“She starts shit with me, I’m going to finish it.”
“I’m going with you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Laili pounded the dash again. “I just can’t believe she won, and I lost.”
“You lost? She and her dad are about to lose 1,000 pounds of pharmaceutical grade fentanyl and 100 million in gold bullion fronted to them by a notorious cartel. You couldn’t lose that bad if you tried.”
A small smile parted Laili’s lips. “Ok. I just started feeling a little less fucking angry.”
“And you should also be happy to know I have the rest of the task all handled.”
Laila smirked. “Well, excuse me for not having an awesome asset to work with like Captain Savanna.”
“I want you to come with me tonight as back-up.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I deliver the flash drive to the captain at 5PM. Wait for him to take Paz. Wait for Flotilla 15 to take Paz back. And deliver the Outcast to the contractors. Task complete.”
“Then we collect our bonuses. And start our vacations.”
“Exactly,” Molka said. “Feeling even a little more less angry now?”
Laili allowed a larger smile. “A little.”
“Take a look in the glove box.”
Laili opened it and removed a large envelope filled thick with US currency. “What’s this, the rest of our task money?”
“No. That’s from the captain. My share of the Weinberg booty.”
Laili flipped through it. “How much is it?”
“Forty thousand.”
“Shit, for one prize? Fuck the program. I want to be a pirate.”
“Half is yours.”
Laili tossed the envelope back in the glove compartment and slammed it shut. “I don’t need charity for sympathy.”
Molka lied. “That’s not how I mean it.”
“How did you mean it?”
“If things were the other way around, would you have joined the captain’s raid on Candyland and got me out?”
“No question.”
“And I believe you,” Molka said. “But I still want to buy some insurance from you in case things are ever the other way around.”
“Like on another task you get in trouble and they send me to bail you out?”
“Exactly.”
Laili nodded. “Yeah, ok. I can live with that.”
“That gives us 35,000 dollars play money each.” Molka smiled. “I know a girl who’s going hardcore shopping first day of vacation tomorrow. What about you?”
Laili shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“And day two, a day at the spa. Full treatments and pampering. Throw everything they have at me.”
“I’m definitely getting drunk the first day,” Laili said.
“And then?”
“And then…I’m sure you’re going to laugh at me, but the island next door, Saint John, is mostly a national park. And I was reading online where they have all these different hiking trails where you can really get into some serious nature sights, and even one where you can see some ancient petroglyphs. When I was a kid, no one ever took me hiking or camping or anything like that. I mean, I know it sounds lame as fuck.”
“Not at all,” Molka said. “It sounds interesting.”
Laili smiled. “And then, of course, I’m going to hit downtown Charlotte Amalie and shop my ass off.”
“Of course,” Molka said. “But you know what the very best part of these eight vacation days will be?”
“Fuck yeah, I do.”
“No Azzur!” they exclaimed in unison, erupting in genuine laughter.
Laili radiated. “Ok. Now I’m feeling a whole lot less fucking angry.” She flipped on the radio. A newer pop song played. “I love this song!”
“I do too!” Molka said. “Turn it up!”
Laili turned it up, and they bopped their heads and sang along and smiled and laughed more.
Molka parked next to Laili’s car. Yacht Marina Grande’s retail and leisure complex didn’t open until 9AM, so they cut around to a separate outside marina entrance.
Walking through the gate, Molka tripped, stumbled, and recovered
Laili laughed. “Hey, watch your step.”
Laili trailed behind Molka for a few paces and playfully tripped her.
Molka stumbled and recovered again.
Laili laughed again, harder. “Hey, walk much?”
Molka crinkled her nose. “Hilarious.”
They proceeded down the long dock—past numerous lesser yachts—toward the marina’s biggest mooring slip at the far end, home to Yacht Marina Grande’s largest ever hosted mega yacht: the soon to be departing Outcast.
They reached the dock’s end.
They stopped suddenly.
Molka gaped at Laili.
Laili gaped at Molka.
They both gaped at a big area of empty water.
The big area of empty water where Outcast should have been floating.
CHAPTER 46
Molka gaped at Laili again.
Laili gaped at Molka again.
“Wait,” Laili said. “A 200-hundred-foot yacht doesn’t just get up and walk away.”
“No,” Molka said. “They start up and cruise away.”
“No. Wedding this afternoon, reception this evening, leaving tonight, remember?”
“Maybe they eloped and left early.”
“If they did that, we’re—”
“Both dead.”
“Now what?” Laili said.
“Now you’re going to wait here while I go to the marina office and hopefully find Caryn there, but if not her, whoever is managing the place right now, and ask.”
Molka left, and Laili lit a cigarette.
A portly, 60-ish man appeared on the deck of the yacht moored behind where Outcast had been. “Good morning, young lady. You’re very pretty.”
“Yeah, I know,” Laili said. “Do you know what happened to the big boat that was parked here?”
“You’re talking about the Outcast, owned by playboy Paz.”
“Yeah.”
“It left yesterday without so much as hosting a sendoff party, which is tradition in this marina. I mean Paz brought a party onboard, but I wasn’t invited.”
“What party?”
Marina Office
Private
Molka found the office door, with an identifying gold plate, next to Yacht Marina Grande’s main entrance. Lowered blinds covered a large window on the door’s right side, but a bent slat allowed a small peek in. She peeked in.
A youngish red-shirted Hispanic man with a moustache sat at the desk viewing porn on a laptop.
Classy. An employee playing around. Bosses must be out. Ask him where they are.
Molka knocked once and tried the door handle. Unlocked. She opened the door to find a haggard Donar Thorsen sitting in chair against the wall and another youngish, Hispanic man, in a blue shirt, sleeping face down on the couch. A pistol butt protruded from his jeans’ back waistband.
Molka’s situational awareness redlined.
Trouble; use caution.
“Excuse me,” Molka said. “I’m looking for the marina manager.” She flashed a disarming smile. “And good morning everyone, by the way.”
Donor’s eyes moved from Molka to the red shirt guy at the desk and back to Molka. He answered in a monotone. “I’m the owner-manager.”
Molka smiled disarming again. “Great. I’m actually looking for a yacht that was berthed here named Outcast. I’m an old friend of its owner, Paz Davidov. We know each other from back home. I heard he was here and would love to say hello.”
Again, Donor’s eyes moved from Molka to the red shirt guy and back to Molka. And again, he answered in monotone. “I’m sorry, miss. There’s no yacht here by that name.”
“Yes. I know it’s not here now. But maybe you can tell me where he moved it to?”
Once again, Donor’s eyes moved from Molka to the red shirt guy and back to Molka. Same monotone. “I’m sorry, miss. There’s no yacht here by that name.”
“Ok, thank you.” Molka offered a parting disarming smile. “I must be at the wrong marina. Sorry.”
Molka rushed over to Laili, who still waited on the dock.
“It left yesterday,” Laili said. “Three Hispanic males with backpacks boarded it an hour before. What did you find out?”
Molka came close to Laili and whispered, “We need to go home and get our weapons.”
CHAPTER 47
“Daddy Thorsen signaled you with his eyes and voice that he was in a hostage situation,” Laili said. “Are you positively definite?”
“Absolutely,” Molka said.
Molka—with Laili riding passenger again—sped toward their apartment.
“Why would he be held hostage in his own marina?” Laili said.
“I would guess it has something to do with Outcast being gone. Either way, we’ll find out when we rescue him. What time is it?”
Laili checked her phone. “6:32.”
“We need to get this done before the marina’s mall part opens.”
“What gear do we need and what’s your plan?”
“We need our weapons with their suppressors,” Molka said. “How many flashbang grenades did the captain give you for that bridal shower op?”
“A bandolier of six. I still have five left.”
“Good. We’ll need one, and you’ll need to get into your smallest bikini.”
Laili stood outside the Yacht Marina Grande office door scarcely covered in a miniscule gold bikini and standing statuesque on platform sandals. A large floral beach bag hung from her left shoulder.
Molka stood to her left, back pressed against the wall with her suppressor attached Beretta held in a barrel-up ready position.
Molka nodded.
Laili knocked.
A finger parted the door side blinds and a sleepy brown eye peered out. The sleepy eye awoke on Laili’s taunt, young, perfect body and the door unlocked and opened.
Laili stepped into the office.
Red Shirt smile-gawked.
Blue Shirt, awake on the couch, smile-gawked.
Laili smiled seductively. “Oooo…three handsome men! One of you has to know where the pool is?” She let the beach bag slip from her shoulder and land behind her. “Ooops…” She turned and bent at the waist to retrieve it.
Her move had the desired distraction effect.
Laili’s right hand went into the bag and came out with a flashbang grenade, and with blur-quick coordination, she tossed it into the far corner of the room, ducked, and drew her suppressor attached Sig.
Bright FLASH.
Loud BANG!
Molka vaulted into the room with weapon ready to fire. “NOBODY MOVE!”
Blue Shirt and Red Shirt, both stun-crouched on the floor, moved—to draw their pistols.
Molka shot Red Shirt in the head.
Laili shot Blue Shirt in the head.
Molka shut and locked the door.
Laili stood and opened a rear window to vent the smoke.
Donar glanced up from his position on the carpet, where he had been lying face down with his hands covering his head.
“Stand up,” Molka said. “You’re safe now.” She viewed Red Shirt and Blue shirt. “They saw we had them covered. It was suicide.”
Donar rose and addressed Molka. “That’s because they’re sworn to die before being arrested. You did the right thing killing them, officer.” He smiled, relieved. “I hoped you caught my signals and called the police. But I had no idea you WERE the police.” He addressed Laili. “And I knew there was something special about you, officer. That crazy act was just an act. I assume you were sent to keep an eye on Paz because of who he is?”
“Where is the Outcast and Paz?” Molka said.
“They left yesterday.”
“We know that.”
Donar paced.
Molka repeated. “Where’s the Outcast and Paz Davidov?”
Donar paced.
“I had a very bad last few days,” Laili said. “So I’m in no mood for shit today.” She bowed up on Donar. “Where’s Paz and the fucking boat, fuck-face!”
