Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

waiter, who promised to bring more drinks immediately, as well as their salads. Zane wondered if he’d have to come up with any sort of ploy to keep Armen here, since they were literally starting dinner.
    “Mr. Porter, could I trouble you a moment?” Armen’s voice broke into Bianchi’s ongoing monologue about the relative benefits of wine and a middle-aged man’s health.
    Zane glanced at Armen, curious. “Sure.”
    “If you’re not going to enjoy that Scotch, it’s a shame for it to go to waste,” Armen said. He sounded a little harried.
    With a small shrug, Zane waved a hand at it. “Be my guest.”
    Armen nodded his thanks and picked up the lowball glass from in front of Zane, immediately taking a strong slug out of the glass. Zane watched, somewhat intrigued. He didn’t remember ever seeing Armen drink, even during the poker games.
    When he set the glass down, he actually smiled wanly at Zane. “Such business often causes me undue stress,” he explained, almost embarrassed to admit it. Zane blinked at him but offered him a benign smile.
    Their salads arrived a few minutes later; ten minutes had passed since Ty left. Zane joined in a new conversation as Norina talked about upcoming dance classes on board, but he kept an eye on Armen, who started fidgeting slightly. And it had to be a trick of the subtle lighting in the restaurant, because when Armen abruptly dropped his salad fork, Zane would have sworn the man was pale and sweating.
    “Mr. Armen, are you all right?” Zane asked with a frown.
    Armen cleared his throat twice before pushing back from the table. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. Please… excuse me,” he said softly, and even as Zane said, “Wait,” he was up and moving woodenly out of the restaurant.
    “I hope he is not seasick,” Norina said.
    Zane shook his head. It had only been about twenty minutes. Not enough time. Now Armen and his two trailing bodyguards were on their way back to his cabin, and Zane had no way to warn Ty.
    “I think I’m going to go check on Del before the entrees arrive,” Zane murmured, placing his napkin next to his nearly untouched salad as he stood.
    “Hurry back. You do not want your dinner to get cold. And bring my Del back with you!” Norina bid him. Zane nodded as he walked away, hoping he could catch up enough to follow Armen back to his stateroom — Zane could shoulder his way in past the bodyguards if he had to.
    If Ty needed him, he would be there.
     
     
    T Y SAT behind the large desk in one part of the suite, flipping through documents and reading over them quickly. He was using the portable scanner to make copies of some of the papers, but he knew he didn’t have time to copy every one. He was trying to glean critical information and determine which ones might be pertinent while keeping an ear toward the front of the suite.
    His head jerked up when he heard a scratching at the door, then the distinctive sound of the key card being swiped. He glanced around the stateroom furtively, looking for a place to hide. There was no way he’d get out the door and around the balcony partition in time without being seen.
    He ducked behind the desk and cursed inwardly when he realized there was no back to the damn thing. He saw a pair of legs enter the stateroom and several more in the hallway. Armen and his bodyguards.
    Ty turned and put his back to the side of the desk, momentarily out of sight. But as they moved around the room, they would quickly catch sight of him. He peered around the corner and counted three men. Armen was yanking at his tie in obvious displeasure. Maybe he hated wearing tuxedos as much as Ty did.
    “It is stuffy,” Armen muttered to one of his bodyguards, and the man went over to the thermostat to adjust the temperature accordingly.
    “You seem ill,” one of the men commented, but his accent was so thick Ty wasn’t quite sure if that was what he said or not. The thug began to walk around the sofa, bringing him alarmingly close to Ty’s hiding place. Ty ducked away, commando crawling behind the desk and peering around the other side. Armen sat on the side of his round bed, the side that didn’t look like the end of the bed, anyway, and he was facing away from Ty. One of the bodyguards had disappeared into the bathroom, and the other was facing away as well, apparently giving his boss some modicum of privacy. Ty took the chance and crawled across the floor to the bed, intending to slide under it before he