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Dee quickly pulled on a pair of shorts without taking the time for underwear and then grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. By now I had pulled my shorts on and was about to leave the saloon and make my way to the deck to see why we were accelerating away from the dock. Dee pulled me back.

“Josh, it must be Hickstead. Don’t ask any questions, just keep him busy for a few minutes while I get organised. Don’t forget, he’s armed, but we’re not.”

***

I reached the deck to find the Captain operating the yacht from the auxiliary console. Normally the Captain would be in the deckhouse running the yacht from where he had full radar and radio coverage. But there was an auxiliary console and wheel on the top deck for those occasions when the owner wanted to be in the sun and feel the salt in his face. From his position below, Hickstead could ensure Captain Poulter did as he was told whilst still holding the first mate hostage.

When I came up onto the deck I found the first mate sitting down on a bulkhead with his hands fastened behind his back by his own belt. I looked into the distance and saw a group of uniformed men running around with radios. Good, I thought; help would soon be on the way.

“Sorry, Boss.” The first mate’s voice was slurred, and I noticed that blood was pouring down his cheek from a wound on his temple. “He asked permission to come aboard to give you a message from home, and as soon as I turned around he belted me with the gun.”

“It’s OK, Sean, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have shot him myself earlier, when I had the chance. No-one would have cared.”

Hickstead overheard our conversation, and laughed.

“Josh, you don’t have it in you. You’re not man enough. When Sir Max had to go, I dealt with it. Then Andrew was about to cave in and I had to kill him, too. As you said earlier, I am a killer, you are not, and that’s a weakness.”

“Or a strength, for most people,” I retorted.

“Why don’t we give your lady wife a call? I’d like to congratulate her on your recent nuptials.”

“Leave her out of it. You are quite mad. You do know that, don’t you? You’ve strayed way over the line that separates sanity from insanity.” I hoped I was giving Dee enough time to do whatever she needed to do.

“You have a lot to say for a man with a gun pointed at him,” Hickstead spat. “Now, call your wife or I’ll shoot you in the gut, just like your spook friend on the jetty.”

Sean confirmed that Hickstead had fired a potentially killing shot before I had reached the deck. I had heard it for myself, after all. I made a play of shouting for Dee to join us on the deck. I was surprised when she replied.

“Coming, Darling.”

The boat shuddered to a halt, and the Captain looked surprised. Hickstead pointed the gun at him.

“What’s going on? Don’t try me. I have plenty of bullets for you all.”

“I have no idea,” the Captain answered nervously. “I’m not doing this. It should be working fine. All of the gauges are showing normal readings. I don’t understand it.”

“Oh, that might have been me,” Dee said in mock apology, holding up a length of cable with exposed copper cores at each end.

“Sorry, Captain. Is this piece of wire important?” She sounded calm and actually smiled. The Captain was incredulous. He spoke angrily.

“What are you doing, Ma’am? This man has a gun on us and you go and pull the main ignition cable out. It’ll take me an hour to put that back in, and that’s if you haven’t damaged the terminals.”

Dee ignored him and walked straight towards Hickstead, extending her hand.

“Lord Hickstead, we haven’t met. I’m Mrs Josh Hammond. My, you are a handsome man.” She flirted outrageously.

Hickstead, in no mood for this, pointed the gun at her head.

“Not another step, Mrs Hammond. The last time you got close to two of my confederates they needed hospital treatment. I want you to keep your distance.”

Hickstead actually seemed more afraid of her than she seemed of him, even though he was the one holding the gun. He had recognised that Dee was the main danger to his plan, and he was going to neutralise her. I hoped she had a plan, because I had no idea what I should do, and was more than a little worried.

“OK, Sean, stand up and seat yourself against the deckhouse wall.” Hickstead was positioning us where he could cover us all easily. He kept the gun on Dee as he gave further orders.

“Now you, Captain. Sit on your hands until I get a chance to tie you up. Josh, you do the same.” We obeyed, because it seemed sensible to do so. “That’s it, sit on your hands. This is just like Northern Ireland in the 1970s, except I wasn’t allowed to kill them, even though they were killers themselves.”

He removed his leather belt.

“Now, dear lady, turn around, please. I am going to tie your hands.”

Dee giggled.

“Oh, Hicky, I’m not that sort of girl, and I’m married now.”

She held out her left hand to show off her engagement and wedding rings. Old habits die hard, and out of politeness Hickstead looked, as Dee knew he would.

“Shit!” Hickstead shouted, berating himself for falling for the oldest trick in the book.

Before he could look back at Dee’s face and loose off a shot, Dee swung around and whipped him across the face with the cable. Cuts opened up across his cheek. Hickstead fought the pain and brought the gun around, but Dee blocked his swing with her forearm and a shot fired into the superstructure. My new wife grabbed his wrist, and squeezed the pressure points until he dropped the Browning and it skittered across the deck towards the stern.

Hickstead knew that he couldn’t beat Dee like this, and so he decided to use his height advantage. He grabbed her in a bear hug, lifted her up and squeezed. Two of us were on our feet.

“Sit down or I’ll break her back!” He carried on squeezing, and reluctantly we sat down again.

Dee yelled. “Josh! In the lounge…” and then she went limp.

“That’s better,” Hickstead said, relaxing his grip.

But he had been deceived again. Realising that she would not win a battle of brute strength, Dee allowed her body to relax. As soon as her feet touched the deck she launched a vicious head butt into the former Peer’s face. His nose disintegrated and blood sprayed everywhere, but he was fighting for his life and would not let go. She butted him a second time, smashing his cheekbone as he turned, trying to avoid her head. His left eye socket was broken and only skin was holding his eye in place. Still he held on, until Dee took hold of his left arm and forced it backwards to the point where she heard ligaments tear. Hickstead’s left arm fell uselessly to his side, and he moaned.

Unfortunately the double head butt had also disoriented Dee, and they both collapsed on the deck in a heap. Dee was the first to recover and she got to her feet. Apart from Hickstead, we were all on our feet now. It looked as though it was all over. And, still teetering on unsteady feet, Dee looked for the gun.

Her luck wasn’t holding. Hickstead had landed on his Browning. Summoning all the strength he had left, he gripped the gun, pointed it upwards, and without aiming at anything in particular, loosed off a shot.

Dee screamed, stumbled and fell over the rail into the Mediterranean Sea.

***

I looked on in stunned disbelief, standing motionless as I heard the splash of my wife’s body hitting the water. The Captain pushed me towards the lounge and I half fell inside. The Captain dived over the side to save Dee.

I didn’t know what I was looking for until I saw it. I picked it up, set it and stepped onto the deck, aiming at the slowly rising form of an unrecognisable Hickstead.

He had the gun in his right hand and was trying to raise it to a firing position. His face was destroyed and looked like something from a horror movie. The left side of his face had collapsed and the whole of his eyeball was visible.