Anyone else would have turned his boat around and tried to get away. But not Benoit. He had cut the engine and was letting his Zodiac drift. He’d had a front-row seat to every murder he’d committed so far, and he wasn’t going to miss the grand finale.
He sat up and raised his cell phone in the air.
Like a mime in the spotlight, he held up his middle finger. It hung there, silhouetted against the twilight, mocking us, defying us to stop him, and knowing we couldn’t.
And then, he turned the finger downward and pressed it hard on the dial pad of the cell phone.
I wasn’t sure if Kylie and I were far enough away from the yacht to survive the blast.
We were both on the floor of the Zodiac. I rolled over on top of her and covered her with my body.
“That’s twice in one day,” she said.
“Old habits die hard,” I whispered in her ear. “Brace yourself.”
Chapter 92
THEY WERE MAKING a mockery of his movie.
Another time, another place, and The Chameleon might have found it funny. But this was the climax of his film, and instead of acting like worthy opponents, MacDonald and Jordan had showed up and were floundering around in the water like a couple of Keystone Kops.
Liberty Island was not as close as he would have liked, but it was close enough. He had to act now. He waited for Jordan to haul MacDonald up into the Zodiac. This was the last scene, and he didn’t want them to miss it.
“And action!” he yelled.
He raised his cell phone in the air, angling the glass face so it reflected the light of the setting sun. They’d see it, and they’d know what it meant.
He held up his other hand, slowly gave them the finger, then pointed it down and rested it on the number 1 button of his speed dial.
The cops knew exactly what was coming next. They ducked for cover, but The Chameleon no longer cared about them. He gazed out at the horizon. It was just as he and Lexi had imagined—the doomed yacht, the all-knowing statue, the orange glow of the sun as it slipped into the water.
He pressed down hard on the button. He heard the beep of the auto-dial, then a single ring, and then…
“Kaboom.”
The word was followed by a deep throaty laugh.
“I said ‘kaboom,’” the voice on the other end of the phone mocked. “Sorry it isn’t any louder, but I cut the phone wires to your detonators—all three of them. What’s the matter, Mr. Chameleon? You suddenly at a loss for words?”
“Charles?” Gabriel finally said.
“You sound surprised. Didn’t you see the last-minute script changes? The cavalry showed up, cut me loose, and upgraded me to hero status.”
“Those sons of bitches,” Gabriel said.
“That’s show business,” Connor said. “Your movie doesn’t always turn out the way you—”
“My movie will turn out amazing!” Benoit screamed. He hung up. Charles Connor was an extra. Not worth talking to. The talking was over. This was an action movie, and the action was about to kick into high gear.
He gunned the engine and drew his Glock.
“Alternate scene!” he yelled as he barreled down on the other Zodiac.
Chapter 93
KYLIE AND I were pressed flat to the bottom of the Zodiac, waiting for the inevitable.
She kept count. “One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand…”
By fifteen-one-thousand the inevitable still hadn’t happened.
“Something went wrong,” she said. “Take a look.”
I lifted my head and peered over the gunwale.
“Game changer,” I said, ducking back out of sight. “I don’t think he can get it to blow. He’s talking to someone on the cell phone.”
“Maybe he’s calling tech support,” she said. “Don’t give him a chance to figure it out. Let’s take him.”
I sat up and reached for the starter cord.
The first bullet tore through the Yamaha engine, and I hit the deck. Three more shots flew over our heads.
I heard Benoit’s Zodiac race past us. I rolled over, grabbed my gun, and fired back, all noise and no accuracy. He did a one-eighty and came back at us. I yanked at the starter cord, but his first shot had taken out the engine.
He opened fire, and I flattened out yet again.
“Zach, I don’t have a gun,” Kylie said.
“I have a backup. Ankle holster.” I could hear the Zodiac bearing down on us again. “I’ll get it as soon as he passes.”
He didn’t pass.
He rammed us.
He clipped the front corner of our Zodiac, catching it at the perfect angle to lift it high and pitch me overboard. I flew out of the boat backward and hit the water headfirst.
It felt like somebody came up behind me and whacked me with a two-by-four. All I could see were blue spots on a field of black, and then I went under.