Avenging Amy (Darkwater SEALs Book 1) by Annabelle Winters

Author:Annabelle Winters [Winters, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winterswept
Published: 2021-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

16

“Wait here.” Ax stepped out into the warm, breezy night. The fingernail moon was pure white. Palm trees swayed like whispering dancers around the turquoise lagoon. Far down the wet beach dark waves of the Persian Gulf rolled in and out with deceptive laziness. It was low tide, Ax knew. He gestured for Amy to stay against the building, in the shadows between the yellow lights illuminating the manicured hedgerows of the Grand Palm’s back garden. There were small white cameras all along the hotel’s burnished facade. Ax didn’t think anyone was watching right now, but he reached up and yanked out the two closest to them anyway. Wouldn’t matter soon. They couldn’t stay here long. As it was Rafiq had a head start.

He closed the door behind them and looked around. He saw a sectioned off area marked by with red-and-yellow cones. It was where Rafiq’s bodyguard had plunged to his death, Ax thought grimly. It had been hours, and they’d cleaned up the mess, it seemed.

A splashing sound alerted him, and he smiled and gestured with his head towards the artificial lagoon that was lit up in turquoise from the underwater lights. “Dolphins say hello,” he whispered. Amy was silent, but he saw her smile in the yellow-tinted darkness. He walked lightly past the lagoon, staying in the shadows of the date palms. His gaze swept over the dark beach. The lifeguard tower gleamed an eerie white, the slats of the oversized chair grinning like a massive skull. He gazed out over the dark water, calling up the memory of what he’d seen from his hotel room window. He’d seen three yachts anchored off the beach. He assumed they belonged to one of the Sheikhs who owned part of the beaches adjacent to the Grand Palm. There was a two hundred foot floating palace that was out of the question. A ninety footer that Ax had seen being boarded by two young Sheikhs and twelve bikini-clad European women. It had hauled anchor and roared off that evening. Perhaps it was back now, but it might have crew or guests still aboard. Besides it was too large. He kept staring into the dark sea, searching for the outline of the third yacht he’d seen. Finally he saw the outline bobbing with the swell. It made him smile. A Riva 44 luxury yacht. Forty four feet long. Built for two. One cabin. Twin diesel engines that generated seven hundred horses of power. Top speed almost fifty knots. He did a quick calculation. He could sail that thing all the way to Rafiq, couldn’t he? Dubai to the southwestern coast of Saudi Arabia would be almost a thousand miles by sea. The Riva 44 could get them there in forty-eight hours. Four days. It would take almost as long by car, he figured. Air was the best option, but the most risky. Easier to steal a boat than a plane or chopper. The Riva 44 beckoned to Ax in the darkness. They could find diesel along the small Omani ports along the way.

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