Cruisin' For A SEAL: SEAL Brotherhood #5 (16 page)

Mark was tired, but he wanted to make sure Sanouk got his fair share.

“Oh, I’ll go,” said Jones as he walked through the adjoining doorway from the cabin next door. “Mark here has been exerting himself, if I have my geography and real estate down right.”

That earned him some catcalls and whistles. He was beginning to think maybe someone pulled sentry duty to keep an eye on him and Sophia in the little boat. In spite of himself, he blushed and couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll tag along too,” Mark said.

“I was going to meet Kyle upstairs, so we’ll join you,” Armando said.

Six members of
SEAL Team 3 accompanied Sanouk to the teller box to the side of the poker room, just beyond the slot machines. He wanted to get the cash, rather than have it added to his onboard bill for the ship. Mark guessed Sanouk was frugal, and didn’t buy much of anything for himself. But with more than $3,400 now stashed in the kid’s cabin, Mark had some concerns for Sanouk’s safety.

“You don’t go walking around any of the ports carrying more than about $100, hear?” Kyle instructed the young Thai. “And you don’t brag.”

Just then, several Brazilian poker players who had lost to Sanouk sauntered over to congratulate him. The SEALs made a barrier around Sanouk, who tried to shake hands, but couldn’t because the Team wouldn’t let him.

As they walked away, Mark added softly, “You got that much money on you, Sanouk, and you watch out for anyone. Anyone you don’t know. Someone bumps into you, and then someone else relieves you of your money.”

Sanouk agreed to be careful. “Holy cow, guys. Never knew having so much money was such a complete drag,” Sanouk replied. “I mean, it’s more money than I’ve ever seen before.”

“So how did you learn to play poker without money, kid?” Jones wanted to know.

“We played for cans of soda. Once I won a $50 Starbuck’s card and a set of golf clubs.”

Everyone laughed.

Kyle and Armando headed over to one of the bars at the end of the Deck 5. “We’re meeting Moshe for a drink, gents,” Kyle said. “Make sure Sanouk gets back safely, hear?”

“I’m on it,” Jones said. Fredo nodded and was joined by Rory. Mark drifted towards Kyle and Armando.

“Mind if I join you?” Mark asked.

“No problem.” Kyle said and plopped his massive arm over Mark’s shoulder. Together, they watched their Teammates amble up the stairway to Deck 6, and hopefully to the safety of their cabins.

“You missed some action today, Marky Mark,” Armando quipped. “Your ears burnin’?”

“I’m just doin’ what you’d have been doin’, if you get my drift,” Mark said.

“Roger that, Marky. I’m happy for you, but there’s a complication, and I think Moshe will be able to fill us in. Something’s not right about the dynamics down below,” said Kyle.

As if on cue, Sophia’s dance partner, Roberto, rounded the corner, giving Mark an appraisal straight from Hell itself. He was wearing jeans and a tight knit tee stretched across broad, muscular shoulders. Mark noted his arms and chest were nearly as big as some of the Team guys. Roberto fisted his hands at his sides, locked his jaw and passed them like it required great effort to do so without a fight.

“And that’s the complication,” Armando whispered as they watched the Brazilian’s backside moving down towards the casino with sinewy grace.

“Looks like a street fighter, not a dancer,” Mark said.

“And I think you’d be right. I don’t think he’s a dancer at all,” said Kyle.

Moshe was waiting for them at one of the tables in a corner by a large window that was covered by padded window shades. The boat was rocking heavily. Mark noted the ship’s captain was probably trying to make up time. Kyle and Armando sat down, while Mark went over to the window covering and pulled one corner of it aside, staring out at the moonlight reflecting off the churning waters of the sea.

“Hey, Mark,” Moshe raised his voice. “Keep that closed. We’re not that far from shore.”

“What’s up with that?”

A young server with a pretty face and dark hair done up in a bun added her explanation, “We have an agreement with some of the African countries not to bother them at night with our lights.”

Kyle wrinkled his nose. Mark didn’t understand how their lights, just like the lights from merchant ships they’d been passing, would bother anyone.

“That just doesn’t make any sense at all,” Mark said as he re-secured the padding and came back to the table. Moshe had a meaningful look on his face, but said nothing until after the server left with their orders.

“It
doesn’t
make sense. That’s just what we tell the passengers,” Moshe began. “Truth is, at night, we make a pretty huge target.”

“No shit?” Armando asked.

“Just a precaution. Nothing’s ever happened, you understand. But everyone is extremely careful, as required by the insurance carrier for the line. That’s the reason for a beefed-up security detail—about double what we usually have. You know that expression, better safe than sorry? That’s why they hired me. They love Israeli special forces guys.” Moshe frowned and held off saying anything more while their beers were served.

That’s when Mark noticed that Moshe’s nametag identified him as coming from the U.S., not Israel. He decided to ask him about it. “You a U.S. citizen, Moshe?”

The Israeli officer tilted his head and gave a kind smile. “Fewer complications that way. But the whole crew knows. Not many know my background, and I want it kept that way.”

“Agreed,” Kyle said and clinked glasses with him. Armando and Mark added their glasses to the toast.

“Which brings me to something I must discuss with you all. The situation today, while I’m not at liberty to divulge the details, is troubling to me.” Moshe took a small sip and pushed his glass away like he was abandoning it nearly full. “I’ve got a small war going on downstairs, and I just want to give you a heads-up.”

Mark knew that somehow this involved the Brazilian tango instructor, if that’s what he really was.

“I’ve tried to reason with Roberto. We had a scene earlier today that Kyle and Armando here witnessed, between our Moroccan dance troupe and the Brazilian.” Moshe swallowed, searching the room before he continued. “Roberto is a hothead, but he’s bitten off the head of a cobra, only to find the babies are more deadly. I’ve got nine Moroccans performing tonight for the late show, and one in the hold with minor injuries.”

“He going to be all right?” Kyle asked.

“There is no
all right
about this situation. It’s a powder keg.” Moshe stared down at his hands, fingers linked and resting on the yellow resin tabletop. “I’m going to try to get them tossed in the Canaries. I have to speak to our representative onshore when we arrive there day after tomorrow. You can’t just kick someone off the ship without making sure the host country will take them.”

“I hear that. Sounds like a plan. Less for you to have to manage,” Kyle nodded and sipped his beer.

“There is no managing these people sometimes. I wish they’d leave some of these decisions to us. We are involved in the screening of the crew and staff, but the entertainment is hired by the entertainment director, and I’m afraid he isn’t quite the man for the job.”

Mark was concerned for Sophia’s welfare. “Moshe, I know there are rules about getting involved with the staff and crew. But I—”

“I don’t want to hear it. If I didn’t hear it, it didn’t happen,” Moshe returned.

Mark’s belly began to do flip-flops. He felt sweat dripping down the middle of his back. “Is she safe?”

“As long as she stays out of the crossfire.” Moshe’s serious face alarmed Mark even further. “You don’t want to do anything that will upset the Brazilian. It’s safest for her that way.”

“I want to protect her. That’s my only motive,” Mark said shaking his head.

“Bullshit, Mark. It’s
one
of your motives,” Kyle grinned.

Armando and Kyle shared a chuckle at his expense.

“Then what happens when a crew member gets fired? For something like breaking a rule?”

Moshe sat back into the bright blue vinyl of the bench seat. “They get flown home immediately at the next port.”

“What if—” his LPO interrupted Mark.

“You’re a dumb shit, Mark. Don’t even go there. She can’t just change her mind and then be your fuck bunny, sharing your cabin from here to Brazil. It won’t happen.”

“You’re playing with fire, my friend,” Moshe added.

“But I see that big officer, Maksym, he’s having a fling with a passenger on our floor,” Mark answered.

“You
think
you saw them,” Kyle corrected.

“No, fuck sake, Lanny. I saw them on land, too. They were all over each other.” Mark then addressed Moshe. “He’s been to her cabin. I saw them myself.”

Moshe shook his head. “Unfortunately, the officers have a bit more leeway, just like this meeting here. We are supposed to be strategically placed amongst the passengers. We even have security posing as passengers, just to be sure. No women, though. So this would be forbidden, but not, unfortunately, uncommon. And I think Maksym is a decent guy. I don’t trust him like Teseo, because I don’t know everything about his background. I didn’t hire or vet him for the company.”

“Who did, then?”

“Someone in Florida. All the ship hiring is done there. And they contract with local employment agencies in other countries, like the Philippines, Brazil and Italy.”

“So that leaves us with Roberto. Hired by the entertainment director, then. A Frenchman, unless I’m mistaken,” said Armando.

“Who also hired the Moroccan dancers,” Moshe added.

“And you didn’t vet any of them?” Kyle asked.

“No. I have their passports in the safe. That’s the extent of my involvement, other than trying to keep them from killing each other.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I’m worried for Sophia’s safety, Moshe. I really am. You should see the bruise on her wrist. That guy looked like he wanted to cause her pain for my benefit. Did it right in front of my eyes. I just couldn’t let that happen.”

Moshe’s brow furrowed. “You must be exaggerating.”

Kyle piped up. “Maybe that’s what set him off tonight. Ever thought of that?”

“She has a fiancé. A very well liked Brazilian dancer, and it is my understanding she is completing her contract, and then staying in Brazil to be married. Why are we even talking about all this?”

“Because she’s going to call it off,” Mark said and immediately regretted it.

The three other men groaned.

“You a fuckin’ idiot, Mark?” Kyle barked.

“Doesn’t explain why Roberto is so pissed about it,” Armando said, agreeing with Mark. “He’s not the groom, after all. I think Mark’s got a point. Sophia is in some serious danger.”

“That’s right,” Mark added. “Something’s wrong with the guy. Even Sophia said so.”

Moshe shifted and then stood. “Okay, this is getting too complicated. I’m going to ask you to stay away from her. And all of you, stay away from Roberto. Hopefully I can keep an eye on him, and Sophia,” he nodded to Mark, “and Maksym will keep an eye on the Moroccan hotheads. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll get through this cruise without another incident.”

“Wow. Had no idea about all this,” Kyle sighed.

“We have fifty-three countries represented here. We usually get along much better than our world leaders do. We try to instill the ‘one family’ concept, which results in a lot of multicultural marriages, and that’s good for the ship. Normally it’s pretty harmonious. But this cruise almost seems like it’s cursed.”

Kyle, Armando and Mark shared that
oh, shit
look that happened sometimes when they got the feeling something really bad was about to happen. Mark knew his two mates were assessing threats, determining their options, searching their minds for tools to help them keep their families safe. Advance planning saved lives. Even on a cruise ship.

They watched the handsome Israeli walk out of the bar. The heaviness of Moshe’s final statement hung like the smoke from a firefight. There was no way Mark would leave Sophia alone, even if she begged him to. Just like the rest of the Team. No one would leave one of them behind, or leave any of the ladies unprotected. She wasn’t entirely his yet, except in his heart. Didn’t make any difference, though. His honor and commitment to her settled in on his shoulders, and he felt his chest swell with the knowledge he had someone else to live for.

He just hoped he could do it without making an international incident out of it or get them all in trouble.

‡

T
he next day,
Sophia submitted to Roberto for their pre-planned midmorning rehearsal in the vacant auditorium. They had a dance class to teach that afternoon, and then would be the highlight dancers for a mini grand review involving much of the dance staff from all countries. It was supposed to show the unity of the international crew of the ship.

It was a total lie.

Roberto was back to being well behaved and charming. Sophia knew he was working hard to get back on her good side. The pattern for him seemed to be to show his nasty side, then show his soft side. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She warned herself not to trust this courteous Roberto, knowing the evil Roberto was lurking, ready to pounce, especially if she didn’t give him what he wanted.