CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Saturday, January 15

4:25 p.m.

Palm Beach

Otto was on her way up from the women’s restroom on the second deck when she saw General Parnell grab Pauling’s arm and jerk her aside.

“Over there! It’s him!” she yelled to Gaspar over the deafening noise of the crowd. She probably blasted his eardrums when the voice activated communications system transmitted her alert. “He’s grabbed Pauling!”

“On my way,” Gaspar replied. She could barely see him in the crowd from her position below on the second deck.

She triangulated Parnell’s course. He was headed toward the stairs. Only one way off the cabana deck. He had no choice unless he went overboard. She’d grab him when he reached the bottom of the first flight.

Gaspar followed her reasoning as if they were telepathically connected. He moved toward the top of the staircase as she moved toward the second deck’s landing.

Threading the crowd was worse than struggling through an airport security line on both decks. They made little progress.

Otto was smaller. She could fit through smaller spaces. She vectored to the right and was ten feet from the staircase half a second before Pauling lifted her foot to take the first step down from above.

A tight knot of passengers had gathered to watch across her path, blocking Otto from reaching the stairs. She tried to muscle them aside, but they were drunk and deafened by the noise or something. She couldn’t get through.

Her view was blocked by passengers.

At the top of the stairs, Parnell’s foot moved toward the first step.

His head swiveled, and his eyes were wild. Bewildered and carried by momentum, he stepped out on one foot, off balance.

At the same time, Pauling leaped backward, jerking her arm away from Parnell’s grasp.

Someone shoved Parnell in the back. Hard.

Momentum should have carried them both all the way down, but Parnell tumbled alone.

Otto was stopped by a wall of people.

Gaspar rushed forward and slid down the stair rails to the bottom of the second deck and then to the bottom of the first.

By the time he reached the base of the stairs, Parnell was running toward the stern faster than Gaspar could ever hope to move.

“Stop! Stop him!” Otto yelled.

Parnell kept running.

In her earpiece, she heard Gaspar say, “I’m going after him. I’m taking a Zodiac.”

“Gaspar, wait!” Otto said, still blocked against the second deck’s side rail.

He replied, “Come after me.”

That was all the time he had before he ran after Parnell toward the swim platform, as fast as his damaged leg would take him.

Otto found the Boss’s phone.

The moment it rang, he picked up. “I saw. I’m on it. Be there soon.”

He disconnected.

Otto stood there on the second deck, feeling helpless, watching Parnell zoom away in the Zodiac with Gaspar too far behind to catch up.

Otto glanced at the closest television screen. One of the reporters had his drone already on the Zodiac chase. The drone was high in the sky, way too high because Travis Airfield was in the Zodiac’s direction.

She looked around for the drone operator. She saw him down below, on the swim platform. He must have followed Parnell and Gaspar, chasing his story.

Reporters could be reckless idiots. But she had to admire this one. The whole world could see Gaspar zooming after Parnell. Maybe the video would help.

She looked up to the cabana deck again. Pauling stood near the top of the stairs. In her earpiece, she heard Pauling’s voice. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.” Otto shook her head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“We know where Parnell is now. The Boss has teams on the way to intercept.” The drunks who had prevented her from moving had drifted over to watch the action on television. Otto could finally move. “I’m going after Gaspar. He’s already out of range of our comm system. Call one of the security guys to stay with you. Parnell may not be working alone.”

“But—” Pauling protested, but Otto was already halfway down to the swim platform.