South China Sea
subdued lights of the fighting cockpit carrying an old-school dive belt with four weights. “Twelve kilos should do it.”
Sammi stood over the open fish locker spraying warm water over the crushed ice. The speed of the boat vented off the mist and Gregory could see the canvas tarp Sammi had draped over Masiki’s body. He didn’t do it out of respect for the dead, but to hide her from prying eyes. The tarp acted like a false bottom in the deep locker. A thick layer of crushed ice not only preserved the body, but made a suitable resting place for the hundred-pound marlin Gregory hauled in. Their first day of cruising had been a fantastic day of fishing. It was perfect in every way and brought the new captain and crew together. He also caught half a dozen sharks, and the crew cut off their fins and left them to die. They made it to their first stop before sunset and sold their catch. His father would have been proud of the deal he struck.
“I’m so glad you decided to cruise with us. You are a master sushi chef, but your shark fin soup was amazing.” Gregory stood shoulder to shoulder with the shorter man. “Can you bake, too?”
Sammi took his eyes off the flow of water and asked, “What do you have in mind?”
“Cake… just a simple cake. Women love cake at weddings.”
“No problem, boss.”
With one hand, Sammi reached into the slush, wrapped his hand around the back of Masiki’s neck and lifted her body out of the makeshift coffin. “I wanted to wait until you were here for this. You’re going to love it.” Sammi reached his free arm around her front, let go of her neck and grabbed his forearm around her back. It looked like an awkward side-hug, with Masiki’s dripping toes hovering above the deck. He squeezed her in against his chest and the air rushed out of her lungs and whistled through the slice in her neck. Sammi didn’t stop until her ribs were done cracking.
“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Gregory said. He wrapped the dive belt around Masiki’s waist. It went around twice before he cinched it in at the front. “She loved accessorizing but wouldn’t approve of this.” He ignored her dead black eyes and gently extended his hand toward her ear and smoothed down a large teardrop earring. “That’s better.” Then he reached across, grasping her cold, wet hand with both of his. In an instant, the ring on her right finger was stripped off. “Dump her.”
Gregory watched as the turbulent water eagerly consumed the dead body. “Sammi, she would have wanted you to have this.” He extended his hand and placed the gaudy sapphire ring into Sammi’s beefy hand.
“Thanks, boss. Let's do this again someday.” The beefy man stripped off his apron, carefully rolled it up, and disappeared up the side deck.
The two-man crew was sleeping off a night of drinking. Giving them the entire profits of yesterday's catch and letting them know this was their last landfall ensured they’d get drunk. No sense in giving them more information than they needed. But Gregory wanted to check on his new captain. He was on the bridge, alone, and should have been busy driving the yacht, but it never hurt to check up on new hires.
The bridge was dark. The radar screen illuminated the captain’s form, and countless LEDs dotted the landscape around the helm. “Good morning, Captain,” Gregory said,
“If you say so” was the curt reply, in a crisp Australian accent.
“We haven’t talked since you’ve signed on. Now seems like as good a chance as any.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Oshiro.”
“I hired you on the assurances of a very reliable business acquaintance. Your nautical experience is exceptional, but your resume is full of holes and inconsistency.”
“That's why I’m working for you.”
“Captain, perhaps I can get you a drink, and we can speak civilly.”
“Never touch the stuff.”
“You requested the humidor be full of cigars. May I offer you one?”
“Now you're talking.”
Gregory stood at the captain's right shoulder and said, “Do you mind if I prepare it for you?”
“Not at all.”
He cut off the cap of the cigar and ignited a tiny torch to toast it. Handing it to the captain, he said, “That should do.”
“Thank you.” He took a draw, rotated the cigar, and turned his attention to Gregory. “You know this boat of yours has a back-up camera.”
“I don’t get your meaning.”
“The chick you and Sammi just dumped into the deep. I saw it right there on that monitor.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Let me tell you about those inconsistencies in my resume. At forty-two years old, I was the captain of a seven-hundred-foot cruise ship. Two kids, a trophy wife and my pride and joy, an Audi R8 in my townhouse garage. Then COVID-19 destroyed everything. My marriage was on the rocks long before I lost my career. The divorce was final just before Australia became a police state. I couldn’t even visit my kids. It’s cliche, but I lost everything. Soon after, I was arrested for inciting protest and defying arrest. That’s when I became a political prisoner for six years. Some inmates found Muhammad, others Jesus…” The embers of his cigar burned brightly. He turned his head and exhaled an enormous amount of smoke. He shifted his attention back to Gregory. “I found karma. That bitch you disposed of? My religion has the answer for that. She deserved it. My religion has an answer for you, too. If you ever try to double-cross me. I will make sure you get what you deserve.” His voice changed with his next puff of smoke. “Of course, if you honor our contract, I will take you anywhere in the world and do anything to help you get… what you want.”
“Captain, I believe we will get along just fine. As a captain of a cruise ship, have you ever had occasion to perform a wedding ceremony?”
“I’ve done dozens.”
“Wonderful.” Gregory slowly reached over to the throttle controls and eased them forward. “Let's go get my girl.”