Fish & Chips (Cut & Run 3)

By the time they made it to the central entry to the promenade, Zane had calmed enough to be able to start thinking further ahead.

They"d have to get on a satellite phone to call in. They"d need to get jurisdictional approval, and as much as he hated it, what passed for the local officials would have to be involved, at least to shut down their attackers.

As they stopped at the foot of the staircase, Zane glanced around them and turned to look right at a man raising his arm to point a gun at him.

“Down!” Zane exclaimed, grabbing Bianchi and Norina"s heads and dropping to the floor just as the gunshot rang out and ricocheted behind them. Screams rang out through the gallery, and Zane chanced a look at their attacker, only to have to duck immediately as the man shot at him again. This time the bullet clanged off the metal embedded in the staircase wall.

“Out, out, out!” Zane urged, pushing Bianchi toward the door that would let them out onto the open-air deck.

Zane could hear Ty complaining as he brought up the rear. “If that bastard shoots at me one more time I"m gonna shove that gun up his—”

“Right!” Bianchi called out as he grabbed Norina"s arm and pulled her in the direction Zane pointed, heading for the bridge just as Zane wanted. What Zane didn"t want was for the man to barrel right into a group of vacationers who squawked and hollered, slowing their progress as Norina tried to apologize and help people up.

“Take her and go,” Zane said as Ty stopped at his side. Ty grabbed Norina by the hand and began jogging on ahead. As they hurried off, Zane yanked a profusely apologetic Bianchi away from the women now laughing the accident off. “Not the time!” he insisted, pushing the Italian ahead of him. Bianchi followed Ty and Norina around the corner to a deck walkway that ran along the length of the ship, and Zane paused to look behind them. He saw three men run out of the promenade and start searching the crowd, and Zane let out a slow breath. They might have dodged a bullet again… until the group of ladies Bianchi had steamrollered pointed in his direction. One of the men yelled at him, but Zane turned on his heel and ran after the others.

After a half minute"s hard run, he was close on Bianchi"s heels and chanced a glance over his shoulder as they ran along the deck on the port side of the ship, still in the public areas. The thugs chasing them hadn"t pulled their guns and shot at them again, probably because of the mass of people enjoying the music and nighttime activities along the open decks. But every time Zane checked, they were losing ground, and he wasn"t sure just how far they"d be able to run.

Norina yelled something in Italian, and Zane turned his attention back to where he was going: inside and up a flight of stairs, rather than the wide, open-air staircase that would skyline them by the large swimming pool, now open to the moon in the warmer Caribbean weather. Good thinking on Ty"s part, leading them into some kind of shelter. Zane just hoped it didn"t dead-end them.

They pounded up the stairs, climbing two decks before the next exit. When Zane skidded through the fire door, Ty, Bianchi, and Norina were waiting for him.

“Block it,” Ty ordered, winded but not gasping for breath like the poor Italians. He was already moving to a heavy teak lounge chair to try and block the door, but he cursed creatively when he discovered the chairs were bolted to the deck. Zane checked the door and heard the thuds of heavy treads on the stairs. “We"ve got to move now,” he said as he tried to recall the layout of the ship"s decks. “Go left and outside, we should be able to cut through a passenger deck to get back to the promenade and up to the bridge.”

Ty reached for him and pushed him on to take the lead. Then he turned to the woman. “Norina, give me your shoes,” he demanded.

“They are not your size!” Norina protested as she stepped away from Ty.

“I"m not going to wear them!” Ty shouted at her in frustration.

“They are alligator skin Manolo—”

“Give him your shoes!” Bianchi urged as he reached down to yank them off her feet.

Ty took them and shoved one of them under his jacket. Zane knew his partner was dying for a weapon, but he"d have to settle for alligator skin stilettos and taking up the rear guard. Zane took off for the door and ran back out into the night and took the left turn, cutting through the open-air sitting area of a closed coffee shop, heading for another door set into the bulkhead. He stopped in front of this, catching his momentum and weight on one hand, and pulled at the door handle.

Locked.

“Oh come on,” Zane growled. He starting digging in his pockets for his key card. Norina and Bianchi stopped beside him.

“That is a fire hazard,” Bianchi commented after pulling on the handle himself.

Zane snorted, found his card, and skimmed it through the reader next to the door. The little box blinked red.

A series of crashes and bangs followed them, accompanied by the odd melody of off-tune Christmas carols being played by a mechanical decoration. Soon Ty rounded the corner, skidding in his expensive Italian leather dress shoes. He had managed to keep his tuxedo shirt tucked in, but it was no longer buttoned. Zane snorted. Just like Ty to find a way to show off his chest as they were being chased by armed men across a cruise ship. He glanced over his shoulder, laughing under his breath at whatever blockade he had managed to devise.

“Did you buy us a little time?” Zane asked. “We need it. Can"t get in the door. Come on,” he said, taking Norina"s elbow and turning her back to the deck. “We need to find another way in.”

“I am wishing I joined the aerobics class now, my gioia,” Bianchi huffed as they took off again. Norina"s tinkling laughter was lighter than Zane expected to hear, considering they were pretty much running for their lives.

They came upon a maintenance door, which was also locked, but before Zane could try the key card, Ty barked at him to move aside.

Zane had barely managed to sidestep out of the way before Ty threw himself, shoulder first, against the edge of the door. The door was heavy, solid metal, but the doorjamb was not. Norina screamed and clapped her hands over her mouth, and Bianchi shouted wordlessly in surprise as the doorjamb splintered under the assault. Ty gave the door a hard kick, but it wasn"t quite enough. He took a step back and then kicked the door again.

It fell open with a groan of protest.

“Go,” Zane said, pushing Bianchi and Norina toward the doorway. “It"s got to lead to an inner hallway.” As they moved, he looked Ty over quickly. “Okay?”