The Heist

locked a few items in the safe, then slipped her filmy red sarong over her bikini and went abovedeck, where Willie was now piloting the yacht from the helm console in the cabin.
    “What’s our ETA?” Kate asked.
    “At this speed, we should arrive at Dajmaboutu by early morning.”
    Nick was at the table, reviewing the charts. “Or we could anchor off any of a dozen islands along the way for the night, get an early start tomorrow, and show up midafternoon.”
    “We aren’t on vacation,” Kate said. “We have a mission to complete.”
    “Hard to remember the mission with you in that red silk thing,” Nick said.
    Kate flapped her arms. “I don’t have anything else! We only bought mantrap clothes.” She looked down at herself. “Actually it’s really comfy. It lets a lot of air in.”
    “So?” Willie asked. “What’s the plan?”
    “We’re pushing on,” Kate said. “We’ll pilot in shifts. I’ll take the next one.”
    Kate chose to do her time on the flybridge station, where she could feel the night air and see the stars. It was nice to have the GPS, but she felt more secure having the solar system up there as backup and her father’s trusty sextant, which he’d kindly included in his care package. Nick left her alone, only intruding on her solitude to bring her sandwiches and coffee. Shortly after midnight, he tapped her shoulder and told her it was time for her to hand over the helm to him.
    “Do you know how to pilot a yacht?” she asked.
    “No, I don’t, but I thought it would be fun to try it in pitch-darkness in the middle of the Flores Sea,” Nick said, smiling. “They light up the islands, right?”
    “You’re such a smart-ass.”
    “I know, but I’m a charming smart-ass.”
    This was true, Kate thought. He was a charming smart-ass.
    Kate awoke after dawn, jolted out of sleep by a sudden surge in the yacht’s speed. She got out of bed and nearly lost her footing when the yacht banked sharply to one side and then the other. She opened her door and saw Nick coming out of the other stateroom. “What’s going on?” Kate asked.
    “I don’t know,” Nick said. “Willie took over for me an hour ago.”
    They rushed up the stairs to the flybridge, where Willie had the boat at top speed passing what appeared to be a small, uninhabited islet with a jagged shore and a thick forest of trees. Two old, beaten-down speedboats were about fifty yards behind them and closing fast. Kate guessed there were half a dozen men in each boat.
    “They came out of nowhere as I was passing that little island,” Willie said. “I saw guns, and I hit full throttle.”
    “Guns? What kind of guns?”
    “The kind with bullets,” Willie said. “I’ve been swerving side to side to create a bigger wake, but they’re still gaining.”
    Kate grabbed binoculars from a shelf beneath the console and took a closer look. The boats were full of men carrying grappling hooks and automatic weapons. Kate lowered her binoculars as oneof the speedboats surged forward and closed in on their starboard side.
    “They’re pirates. We aren’t going to be able to outrun them. They’re twice as fast,” Kate said.
    Willie looked over at her. “Are you suggesting we give up?”
    “No. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
    “No problem,” Willie said. “This is the kind of cruising I’m used to.”
    Kate and Nick ran aft to the stairs and were on their way down when the speedboat opened fire. Kate hit the stern deck hard, taking Nick down with her. Bullets raked the port side, shattering windows and punching holes in the cabin.
    It was a warning, but Willie took it as a challenge. She veered hard toward the pirates, like she was playing bumper boats at the county fair, and they steered away to avoid a collision.
    “She’s good,” Kate said, getting to her feet.
    “Yeah, but it’s pointless,” Nick said. “We’ll have to stop, and when we do, just play the frightened heiress. I’ll do the talking.”
    Willie swerved back around and headed straight at the boat that had been following them. The other pilot easily steered clear, but not before opening a volley of shots at the flybridge as he passed. Everyone hit the deck as bullets tore up the dinette and shattered the minibar, spilling drinks on the floor, a tiny waterfall of alcohol splashing down the stairs to the stern.
    “That was another warning,” Nick said. “The next time they shoot, they could kill one of us.”
    “Good thing we didn’t get a