GRAIN OF SAND

GRAIN OF SAND

A novel by Steve N Marshall

ISBN: 978-1-61792-988-5

PRELUDE

"Now in other news. The attaché to Dharman's Foreign Ministry is expected to replace the Minister, who was killed in an automobile accident shortly before attending the Far East Summit in Bahrain. That’s the second delegate from Bahrain to die in an automobile accident in two years. Over the past decade, three other delegates have died: two in automobile accidents and one to natural causes.

A motion for a brief postponement to allow the new Minister time to prepare for the Summit was granted.

Because of the recent troubles affecting many of the Countries in the region.

This summit is expected by many to be the most important the Middle East has undertaken so far.

And now from one strange accident to our weather at home – Jaime, we have Snow in the middle of April…"

MIAMI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, DEPARTURES

The taxi pulled to a stop, and the driver released the trunk latch. The passenger was already opening the trunk lid and removing his luggage.

Let me get that for you, the driver leaned across his passenger.

 The passenger put his hand on the taxi driver’s wrist. It is okay, I have it! He pulled out his case, set it beside him, and gave the driver sixty dollars. That will be enough?

The taxi driver looked at the passenger and shrugged his shoulders. The passenger had seen the meter flash fifty-four dollars. Yes, that will be enough I think. He pulled the handle of his luggage, ignored the taxi driver’s comment about twenty percent, and walked to the sliding doors.

The sign read, Rental cars. Level one, straight ahead.  Flight check-in.  Level two.

Dewitt Maynard was reading the paper he had bought upon his arrival. He got the mid-day flight. He had no idea why his company had booked it so early. It was a Saturday, and the meeting wasn’t until Tuesday. On top of that, his boss was arriving nearly three hours later. Dewitt had spent an hour sipping the fast food chain’s coffee; it was surprisingly good. He then wandered around, killing time. Eventually, he decided to get the rental car and wait for his boss.

His luggage was already in the car, which was parked across the street from the terminal. The young guy at the rental counter was nice and polite.

It’s quiet, he explained, but in about an hour it will be a totally different place! He would never know how right he was. 

The passenger entered the Terminal and noticed Dewitt sitting on the wooden bench. He walked toward the rental car counter and past Dewitt, who was reading his paper and was unaware that the Passenger was paying so much attention to him. It would make no difference now.

Good afternoon sir, welcome to Miami. Can I have your reservation, your license, and credit card? The young agent had seen the passenger approach the counter and had his speech prepared. He looked up once to make eye contact with the customer and then looked at his screen, ready to input the all-important reservation number. As he looked up to repeat the request, the gun spat its deadly cargo. The force of the bullet slammed the young man against the wall; he was dead before the second bullet left the chamber. His fixed stare remained on his face as he slid almost silently down the wall. The blood on the wall was the only clue to his disappearance.

In his peripheral vision, Dewitt saw the passenger turn. He instinctively looked up and saw the man walking toward him. He smiled and assumed the guy wanted to ask where the young agent was since Dewitt could see that the counter was unattended. At the same time, he noticed the strange markings on the wall and heard a woman scream. The newspaper lying across his lap caught most of the blood spatter. His head ricocheted from the wall, and was now lifeless on his lap. His arms dangled on either side of his legs, motionless.

The passenger walked to the main lobby area. The screaming woman was another rental car agent; she and the young man shared the same counter space. The passenger lifted the silenced muzzle and dispensed two bullets, which killed the relief agent before ripping through the drywall.

TSA Agent Anuar Houzzari was on level two and entering the elevator. He had his coffee with him. It was, strictly speaking, against TSA rules, but Anuar had been a cop at the airport for close to eighteen years, and just one year after his retirement, he decided to go back to work, much to the relief of his wife Luz. He liked being in uniform once again. It was an easy job with good hours and good pay. And for someone with a wife who brought in good money working at the local hospital, and a police pension. It was a good fit. The passenger turned as the elevator door opened. Anuar immediately noticed the man, sweat glistening on his face.

 Anuar dropped his coffee when he saw the gun. He reached for his weapon, but there was a radio at his side where his gun used to be.

Level one rental car counter repe— He was trapped in a box, and the target was all too easy for the killer. Coffee and blood mixed together as the door tried to close repeatedly on Anuar's lifeless legs.

Repeat four niner, repeat last. Keith Houndsley knew Anuar. They could be found still doing the same routine they followed when they both were cops, and they had rehearsed this scenario a hundred times since 9/11. Keith was instrumental in apprehending the man trying to take pipe bombs onto the flight to Jamaica, and he knew the difference between practice and the real thing.

Anuar! Repeat over! Anuar! He raced to the nearest escalators, his long legs skipping three and four steps at a time. The sirens were now all shrilling at once. People on other floors unaware of the carnage on level one were complaining about the noise and how stupid it was to do a drill on a Saturday.

Get down, stay down and don't move, get down!  Keith's gun was in his hand. When people saw it, it got their attention and they froze. However, Keith was too concerned about what might be happening to worry about the shocked looks of the people in front of him.

Don’t come closer, you must stay!

Keith stopped and half ducked behind the rail of the escalator he had just raced down. He saw the man and the gun. The passenger was holding the luggage with his other hand. Keith saw that the man was sweating profusely, but he couldn't see Anuar. He saw women cowering, trying to hide behind some pillars. He could not see the car rental agents or Dewitt’s massacred body. He heard a woman whimpering to his right; her eyes were fixed on the elevator doors opening and closing.

Level one rental car…

Shut up! It is pointless! You will not make any matter; you will not make any change! It is done! The passenger shouted.

In his earpiece, Keith heard frantic chatter describing what was happening and where, but most of it was wrong. It seemed like something else was occurring on level three, but he didn't know what. Maybe nobody knew!

I push this and that is it! That will be final! You must understand! The passenger had his hand on the luggage handle like a plunger. His shirt collar was now wet, and his hand shaking.

 Keith gave hand signals to three of his colleagues crouched on the now stopped escalators. They informed him that help was on the way, but he indicated back to them that it would be too late. He got the signal that four, maybe five people were down, presumed dead. He was transfixed by the passenger’s hand on the handle of his luggage.

In the distance, behind the passenger, a dark suited man was pushing a woman as fast as he could to the sliding doors that lead to the access road. Keith tried to determine whether the dark suited man pushing the woman was a threat or another victim.

Allahu Akbar. The passenger’s cry sent a chilling effect through everybody that heard it.

The maniacal look on the face of the passenger forced a reaction in Keith that was automatic. He stood upright with two hands on his gun, walking and firing at the same time. The passenger was shaking and firing back but was not pushing the handle/ plunger.

Behind the passenger on the access road, a black car screeched to a stop. Keith kept firing, and two of the bullets hit the passenger. Then it was quiet.

The passenger, bleeding from the mouth and torso, said something unintelligible, clicking the trigger of the now empty gun. Keith raced forward to stop the man from pushing the plunger, and he almost made it to the falling passenger. Almost. He just hoped to save some lives. He knew it was futile and that it would be the last thing he would do, but it was his training to save others. He was trained to die. As the passenger fell on to the plunger handle, Keith put his arms up to his face in another pointless gesture.

CAUSEWAY, DOWNTOWN MIAMI – DAY

The sky was blue and bright with wispy clouds mingling with the vapor trails of an airplane. Kevin was in a great mood, and he couldn't wait to get home. He at last had found it. It was perfect and within budget. He reached across the seat to get his cell phone; he wanted to call Kat and tell her.

KAT, He spoke into his phone.

Call failed, the screen read; he tried again. Kat, Again, the bleep: Call failed. It was always the same. He had a 1971 Mustang convertible, but the wind noise was unacceptable to his temperamental voice-activated phone. He picked it up and started to push Kat’s number.

SHIT!  The sirens of the police car and following fire trucks deafened him. The fact that he had been almost crushed by them hadn’t escaped his attention either.

He pulled hard on the steering wheel to avoid the on coming vehicles. The terrible suspension of the car sent him careening across the metal bridge. The cell phone flew off the seat and thudded into the passenger door and disappeared under the seat. He struggled to correct the wavering car.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!  Fire trucks were racing with police cars and ambulances as they all fought to cross the causeway bridge. The noise penetrated Kevin’s whole body. He had pulled to a complete stop and caught his breath as the last of the cavalcade disappeared, lights and horns blaring.

He continued home, pulled into his apartment complex parked next to a BMW convertible, raced up the steps and opened the door. The television was turned to the news, which was reporting on something to do with the Airport.  He switched it to the country channel. Carrie Underwood was singing and trashing a perfectly nice, red pickup truck.

Hey! Guess what I found! He put his keys on the table and waited for her to reply. He walked into the bedroom. She was in the shower, singing. He opened the shower door.

Hey, guess what I found!

She jumped in surprise and threw soap over his face. Ahhhh! Jesus, Kevin, you scared the shit out of me! Why do you always sneak up on me! You pervert!

He smiled and watched her soap herself. That's why!

She leaned out of the shower and kissed him. What are you doing? He had taken his t-shirt off and was unbuttoning his jeans.

Kevin, NO!  I don't have time!  She pushed him away from the shower. Kevin, I mean it!

He knew her and knew that she wouldn't respond; she had a will of iron. When she put her mind to something, he couldn’t change it, no matter what.

I really don't have time! Please! I’m late already.

He stood there, water dripping from his face to his perfect abs. She noticed the expression on his face and his body glistening with water. Oh, come here. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close to her. She kissed him and licked the water from his lips, and then bit her own. Oh God! Get out of here while you still can! She gave him the most beautiful smile, squeezed his now wet crotch, closed the shower door, and carried on singing. He stood with a look of shock, then dissapointment.

You cannot do that! Seriously, Kat! You can’t.

She opened the shower door and saw him smile. She then blew a mouthful of water over his face and laughed.

Here, a blow job to go! She laughed, but when she saw his expression change, she screamed and tried to close the shower door. But it was too late; he was in, grabbing and kissing her.

Kevin, no!  Please no! I can’t...oh god. He was kissing her most vulnerable part, her neck, and at the same time, he was trying to get his soaking wet jeans off without much success. He struggled in the tiny space as she continued laughing.

Damn it Kat, help me!

She couldn't stop laughing. Hey, if you can’t get them off, you can’t get it on!  Sorry!  She skipped passed him, tugging at his jeans, then grabbed a towel and vanished into the kitchen. She heard him scream from the shower.

Kat! Seriously! I need help! I can’t get them off! 

She laughed, sipped her coffee, and shouted back, Stay just like that sweetie, I’ll finish this when I get back…tonight. Something for you to look forward to, and something to wait for! She was smiling as he walked into the kitchen, naked and very happy to see her.

I’m here now, and so is my not-so-little friend! He stood with his hands on his hips, doing his best ‘Scarface’ impression.

You’re gonna have to do better than that. She looked down at him, put on a cute smile, and left the kitchen, slapping his butt as she walked past.

He looked down at himself and pointed. You better start playing your part buddy, or neither of us will be happy.

I love you, he called out to Kat using his little boy voice, hoping to change her mind even though it never worked. Still, she loved the fact that he was gently pleading.

She smiled to herself. Mmm, it will be worth the wait. She turned and kissed his face, grabbing his ass at the same time.

Oh you heartless bitch, he screamed at her.

She laughed, but turned to him with a disapproving look on her face. Bitch? she said and turned her head to the side.

He continued the game. It wasn’t me. His eyes looked down at his erection. Umm.

She caught the time on the wall clock. Oh shit, Kevin! God, I’m gonna be really late. She rushed into the bedroom and dropped her towel. He caught a glimpse of her naked body as he followed her.

I have something to tell you.

She was taking clothes from her closet. What do you think? she held up a short black dress.

Yeah, great.

She put it back in the closet. No, too black and too short.

Hey, short’s good.

She looked at him. It’s not a night out, it’s a ‘thank you’ to the staff for a great job. She pushed him aside and held a longer blue dress up to the window.     Yes,perfect.

You can say that! He went to grab her.

Kevin no! Please not now, I'm so late!

Be late, it’s only a business do! You can be a bit late.

I can’t do this right now, baby!  I'm sorry! The deal is all closed, and Hugh wants the whole team together.

He sat on the bed, frustrated.

Look, I promise – after tonight, I’m all yours. I promise. She smiled at him.

It was a Saturday, and he had finished his midday school for kids. He taught them martial arts, and wanted to show her a building he had found, for an academy for kids – he wanted to surprise her, but again, work came first! You know Kat, that’s all I’ve heard for weeks. You’re spending all your time at work, now weekends as well!

I told you, this is for the both of us! Hugh said this deal would put me on the map. He said he couldn’t have done it without me!

Her explanation had no effect on him. Yeah, well maybe Hugh has other things on his map! She turned on him. Now she was angry. Oh Kevin, for god’s sake! Not that please! This was going to a familiar place, but she didn't have the time or the patience for his jealousy.  I can’t be late, I told you. Hugh is renting a boat at the Marina. If I’m not there, it will leave without me! I have worked very hard to get this deal through, and this is my reward.

He walked toward the door. It sounds more like his reward!

Kat loved Kevin with all her heart and soul, but he didn't like Hugh.

Hugh was young, successful, and ambitious. Kat knew he liked her, but she loved Kevin, and there was no question of her feelings. It was just so hard to convince him of that.

He left the room and turned up the television. A country singer lay on a bed crying and looking at a picture of some guy. Kat followed him.

What is wrong with you? This has nothing to do with Hugh. This is all for the group that put the deal together, and we’ll all be on the boat. But if you want to be childish and petulant, then go ahead. If that’s all you can see in that head of yours, then fine. It’s just me and Hugh, naked together on a boat, far out to sea, fucking each other’s brains out! She threw the remote at him. "Thanks for congratulating me and wishing me a great evening. After all my hard work to get this deal through, not to mention the bonus! Which is for your dream, going to your school, I might add! Thanks Kat! She grabbed her purse. Her hair was still damp. Turn up the sob song, Kevin. Enjoy the evening, because I will now! Thanks a lot!" 

He turned to her. Look, I just wanted to tell you...

No! I’ll be home at about eleven or twelve! She was looking around the room for something. She walked over to kiss him, but he dodged her and went into the kitchen, leaving her standing in the middle of their living room fuming. She walked to the door and opened it.

You know what, Kevin, it will probably be later than twelve o’clock, much later! You’re such an asshole! She slammed the door.

Kat, wait! He heard the engine fire on her BMW and the wheels squeal. Damn it! He watched through the kitchen window as her convertible speed away, and then he sat down on the living room couch. The girl on TV was singing and pouring gasoline onto a car. He went to the bedroom and put on a clean pair of jeans. He walked barefoot to his Mustang, opened the passenger side door, and picked up his cell phone from under the seat. As he walked back into the apartment, he spoke into the phone. 

KAT. He heard her phone ring and then saw it on the kitchen counter. He picked it up and looked at the display: KEVIN.

Shit! Shit! Ah Kat, I’m sorry! He leaned against the counter and held her phone. It rang again. He saw the name displayed was HUGH and answered it.

Hello.

Kat!

No, not Kat!

Oh sorry, must have the wrong number!

Yeah! You certainly have! Kevin pushed END and walked back into the living room. He turned and threw the cell phone as hard as he could against the couch. It bounced up and landed on the tile floor and slid against the leg of the chair. She is right, you are such an asshole… He slumped onto the couch.

Kat pushed and pulled at her hair. She was blonde and beautiful, and she was lucky to have hair that would respond to a little coaxing. As always, she had a full makeup bag with her, not that she really needed it. Her natural clear complexion just needed enhancing. She sprayed a few wayward hairs and set off to Miami Marina. The view from the causeway always made her smile, but at this moment she ignored the spectacular vista and raced to make her appointment.

As she entered the marina, there were boats everywhere. She had all the info on her Blackberry, which was now sitting on the counter at home. While looking at all the boats, she remembered the fight.

Oh Kevin! You asshole! Where is this place? 38, where are you 38… The numbers seemed to correspond with the size of the boats, the higher the number the bigger the boat. That made sense; Hugh would hire the biggest boat he could just to show off, and after this latest deal, the boat would probably be an ocean liner!

God! What was the name of the thing? She again cursed Kevin and thought of her phone. Her whole life was in it. She made a mental note to herself to buy a cheap back-up phone so that this would never happen to her again.

MIAMI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, DEPARTURES – AFTERNOON

FBI Agent Rafe Hannigan had been assigned to the Airport. He was part of a quick response team set up after 9/11 to analyze, coordinate, and assess immediate and imminent danger.

Is it real? 

Rafe asked as Jeff inspected the explosives. Bodies and yellow tape were everywhere, but even so, there were far too many people around the scene for Rafe’s liking.

Jeff, take a few locals and get them to clear the area of all those TV people and reporters. I want them all off the street outside. I don’t want to see one camera.

The access road outside had been cordoned off, but the airport was huge with many points of entry. It was quickly becoming a circus. Jeff Sanderson didn’t hesitate; he approached a Cop and gave him Rafe’s orders.

The cop looked at the media circus and shrugged his shoulders. You got it, but they ain’t gonna like it!

Officer you get your men, clear this whole fucking area now, or you ain’t gonna like it!

Jeff was Rafe's pit bull – he took his job very seriously, he had been a Marine then special ops before moving up the ranks of the FBI. His knowledge in terrorist activity was both practical and physical and covered more than he cared to remember.

Incoming.

Jeff had seen the suits, and the local cops step aside for the men heading toward his boss. They knew the mayor’s deputy and his assistant, respected their jobs, and didn’t try to stop them from entering the crime scene. Jeff, on the other hand did.

That’s as far as you go, gentleman. Jeff put his hand in front of the deputy mayor and his assistant, who didn’t seem too anxious about removing it. The deputy mayor, however, had other ideas.

Get your hand out of my face.

Jeff didn't flinch. He didn’t take orders from anybody except Rafe, and he didn’t care one hoot about the man with the red face in front of him. If Rafe said kill, the deputy would be dead. Jeff was waiting for the word. Rafe looked over his shoulder as the men approached.

Deputy Mayor, this is a very sensitive crime scene, and I know the mayor, your boss, is very concerned about the people of Miami, but so am I. I will let you and your office know in good time what we have. Rafe stood next to Jeff. The two were formidable, but the Deputy was not about to lose face in front of his assistant and his police force.

Let me remind you. You are here at the pleasure of the mayor of this great city, and as so, you will answer to the mayor through his officially appointed deputy, me! the deputy said loudly enough for all to hear and repeat to whomever was willing to listen.

Rafe leaned forward, almost doubling over to whisper at the diminutive deputy mayor. Let me remind you that the eleven o’clock news is a great venue for your mayor to be front and center of this nationally televised situation. Cameras are outside capturing every movement, taking place as we speak. It would not look good for the mayor to have his deputy and his assistant thrown out in front of those very same cameras onto their scrawny Asses for contaminating a very serious crime scene. Now leave.

The deputy mayor’s face was glowing. Rafe turned to Jeff, who unceremoniously pushed the deputy on the shoulder to get his legs moving again. His assistant was already happy to be leaving the presence of these far too serious men.

Rafe turned once more to the dead terrorist with the very real explosive luggage, which, if detonated, would have taken out half of the airport terminal. Why didn’t the thing go off?

Not connected! The Bomb Squad captain had removed his helmet and protective suit. His men were in the process of removing the explosives. The local police knew better than to stand around when the bomb guys were working. They didn’t have sufficient knowledge about explosives to know that without a trigger device, you could throw it around like a baseball and it wouldn’t go off.

That’s not like a group we’re used to dealing with. They finance and get a guy in here loaded with this stuff, but make a simple mistake in not having it connected. Doesn’t add up! Jeff was inspecting the device.

Rafe agreed with Jeff's analysis. The captain grabbed the luggage handle.

No, it was hooked up. If this guy were trained, he would have thought it was connected even on close inspection. It’s inside the detonator – the copper core has been replaced. You can push the plunger all day long, the plastic coating will prevent contact. The bomb squad captain pushed the plunger to prove his point.

The three men looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing: why use real explosives, kill people, and scream the death cry of all martyrs for nothing?

Under other circumstances I would say we were extremely lucky. This is a huge bomb, but it was never intended to detonate. Thank god! I shudder to think if it was. You guys have a mystery on your hands! The bomb guy left with the deadly substance. Rafe knew this is when the real work starts the long laborious reconstruction of tiny details that never seem to fit.

Okay, let the coroner and his team clear the place. We need to hit the database and find out who this guy is and who he was working with!

MIAMI MARINA/DOCK AREA – EVENING

Katrina’s drive from her apartment to the dock area was not a happy one. She tried to dismiss the argument from her mind and concentrate on getting to the marina on time and board the boat. Then she could relax and enjoy the evening. She drove around the dock area.

It was still light, but the sun was low in the sky. It would be dark in an hour. The beautiful red of the sky made it a picture postcard evening. In the distance, she saw two women in evening dresses and watched them walk to a huge boat. Kat parked her car and checked herself in the mirror. She pushed the button for the hood to rise. She got out of the car, brushed down her blue dress, and walked elegantly toward the boat. She saw the two women being given a glass as they ascended the boat’s ramp. She didn’t recognize either of them, but then Hugh had so many friends that it didn’t surprise her. She was just glad she made it in time.

Good evening. Please take a glass of the very best champagne, and you will be shown to the Stateroom. We will be leaving shortly. Two men were dressed in white and black valet uniforms and were smiling and bowing as Kat approached.

This is the Hugh Cashman Party?

Yes, yes. You go to the stateroom now. We must leave.

Kat looked around. She didn’t see any other cars parked. She was about to ask if there had been a shuttle service and if her car was parked in the right place when a taxi pulled up and a buxom blonde in a tight blue dress came running up to the boat.

Wait, don’t go, guys. Geez, I nearly didn’t make it! She smiled at Kat, and gave an approving nod to her choice of eveningwear. Nice dress, oh champagne! Just what I needed, I was only told about this at the last minute. She grabbed Kat by the arm and marched her up the ramp. Haven’t seen you before, are you new on the block?

Kat looked at the blonde, not recognizing her. No, I was going to ask you the same thing. I’m Katrina, Kat.

They shook hands.

Madeline, or Maddy. I love these things, big payday tonight. I can’t wait, I’ve spent the money already. She downed the champagne, put the empty glass on a tray another Valet was holding, and replaced it with a full glass. Come on Kat, you’re behind already. You should drink as much of their stuff as you can; they dish it out like water on these things. Get us as drunk as they can, dummies! I’m here to get the money, then I’m gone.

As she downed another glass Kat looked skeptically at her, her very revealing dress, and, in Kat opinion, liberal use of makeup . Right.

The engine noise increased, Kat noticed the two valets looking at her. They were having some sort of dispute. Kat looked around for a familiar face, but she saw none. The other two women before her were being ushered to another part of the huge boat. They disappeared behind a staircase. The blonde, Maddy, started to follow. Kat caught her arm.You are with the Cashman group, this is the right boat? Kat had stopped.

Cash Man, oh yeah, this is the right boat okay! C’mon, more champagne this way.

Kat turned toward the gangway. The two men had already raised the ramp. The boat lurched as its powerful turbines pushed it away from the dock. Kat had to steady her balance.

Excuse me, where are the Cashman group?

The two valets and the waiter were discussing something, and their voices were raised. Kat didn’t recognize the language they were speaking.

Yes, yes, you go here, the first valet said, and pointed toward the staircase. Kat turned around. Maddy had gone.

You come, I take to them here. Come, come. He gestured for Kat to follow and held on to her elbow. He was shorter than her; most men were. She reluctantly followed him past the staircase. Along the deck in the distance, she saw a door and heard lots of voices. She felt more at ease. He opened the door, and she walked into the lounge area where several women were laughing with each other. At the far end of the room was a bar, and more women.

Hey Kat, over here. Maddy had a spare drink in her hand and offered it to Kat.

No thank you, this is wrong. I’m in the wrong place, she said as she turned to Maddy.

The wrong place? Sweetie, it doesn’t get better than this, trust me. This is exactly where you want to be.

Kat quickly surveyed the room. Not only was she in the wrong room,  she realized it was the wrong boat. These were all women dressed to the nines. She had a very sick feeling in her stomach.

I think I’m in the wrong place too! A very young-looking girl, no more than eighteen, was at Kat’s side. I came here by Taxi. My friends were in another going downtown. The driver said he could only take four in his cab, and he told me he would tell the other driver where to take me.

Kat looked at the girl, who was obviously scared. Do you know any of these women? The girl looked around the room. No! I can’t see my friends. They just said my friends were down here!

Come on, we’re getting off of this boat!

Kat headed towards the door. As she approached it, it opened. Two large men stood at the top of the deck and started to count. One of the men started to shout at the other. Kat thought it was in Arabic, but she didn't really know. She approached the men.

One put his hand up to Kat and spoke in English. You go back!

I won’t go back, we want to leave. We are on the wrong boat, and we want to leave now! She stepped forward, but again the large man stopped her.

Too late! Boat is moving, you go back! Kat pushed away his hand and tried to push past him. I won’t go back, I’m leaving!

The large man grabbed her and pushed her to the floor.

You goddamn ape, get your fucking hands off her! Maddy helped Kat to her feet; she had followed the two women to the stairs. Come on Kat, let’s get off this piece of shit.

Maddy went to pass the large man, but he was ready for her. His forearm swung towards Maddy’s face, and the large ring on his equally large fingers tore a gash in Maddy’s face; the blood instantly started to flow. Maddy put a hand to her face and saw the blood. Kat had moved to her side to assist her when the second man began screaming at the large man. He was gesturing at Maddy’s bloodstained face and dress.

You son of a bitch... Maddy jumped up and rushed toward the large man. He punched her full in the face and sent her to the ground. The other man pulled a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at Kat. She froze.

The small brunette started to cry, and the rest of the women in the room, in a state of shock and anger, started to react to Maddy’s beating. The small brunette held onto Kat as the large man dragged Maddy up by her hair. Her short dress offered her no dignity as she was pulled up the stairs to the upper deck. She was fighting and clawing at the ape pulling her through the door. Meanwhile, the gun was almost touching Kat’s forehead.

The room was shockingly quiet as they listened to Maddy screaming and cursing at her attacker. They were terrified to move, but they watched through the portholes as the large man dragged Maddy kicking and screaming to the side. Her tiny dress was starting to shred as she frantically beat him. He was struggling and panting at the same time hitting Maddy about her face and body as he fought to lift her up over the side rail of the boat. The whimpering of the women and the screams of Maddy were deafening to Kat. They all watched Maddy fighting hysterically, her hands clinging to the bars of the rails and her spike heels kicking away at the side of the boat, desperately trying to maintain her grip. They watched as the large man repeatedly punched and kicked at Maddy’s almost naked body. Her fingernails tore as she clawed at his legs in her fight to