Yuki and the rest of those sent to the left were herded into the Veranda Lounge, the pirates deliberately terrorizing the passengers who were as vulnerable as baby birds on a high window ledge. Then all the lights had gone out and Yuki had heard muffled gunfire.
What was happening?
A woman in a red kimono-like robe, her hair in a topknot, leapt up from the floor and shouted at the closest gunman.
“I need my medication. I need water. I need to use the toilet. I’m sixty-seven years old. Let me go back to my cabin. I’m not a flight risk.”
The gunman told her to shut up and sit down and then gave her a shove.
There was shrieking, and people shrank from the armed men, but another woman shouted, “You can’t keep us here like this. We are human beings.”
A gunman raised the muzzle of his gun and fired into the air, sending a shower of glass and plaster down on their heads.
The screaming that followed was cold, sheer horror transmuted into sound. It had been a building panic with nowhere to go.
Yuki had taken her phone out of her robe and pushed the button to record. She had narrated her video in a whisper but a gunman had seen what she was doing. As he was coming toward her, Yuki had quickly sent the video to Lindsay.
The gunman had grabbed her phone, dropped it, and crushed it under his boot.
“You’re crazy sending pictures,” he had shouted into her face. “And crazy has to pay.”
He had backhanded her across the face. Yuki staggered back, but due to the sheer density of people surrounding her, she didn’t fall. She’d never in her life been struck in the face. The pain was excruciating, and she’d heard herself moan.
She wished she could take that moan back.
She wished she hadn’t shown that she was afraid.
Another big man appeared in the doorway, at least six feet and maybe two hundred pounds, also wearing fatigues and mask.
He had shouted, “Everyone shut up! Sorry to be blunt, but everyone just shut the fuck up, okay?”
A restive quiet came over the lounge as the passengers muffled their fear and waited to hear what was coming.
CHAPTER 57
YUKI DIDN’T REMEMBER every word but close to it.
She had a very good memory for the spoken word and was known around the DA’s Office for being able to recall depositions and court testimony verbatim.
The big man in the mask and fatigues, who had told all of the passengers crammed into the Veranda Lounge to shut up, had stepped up onto a chair.
“My name is…well, you can call me Jackhammer. And this is your orientation session. In a few minutes you’ll know everything you need to know in order to survive. We are in charge.
“‘We’ is me and my squad, and I mean we are completely in charge. The ship’s crew can’t help you. They are locked up, in chains, under guard. And their lives depend on—you. More on this later.
“To continue, the engine room and the communications deck have also been disabled, but if anyone feels like taking a swim, you’re welcome to try. No one will stop jumpers. We are twenty-five miles from land. You will suffer shock the moment you hit the water. It will take about ten to twenty minutes for hypothermia to set in, and even if you make it to shore, which no one can, there’s nothing out there.
“So, here’s the business end. We’ve made a demand of the Finlandia Line and assured them that we will shoot a passenger every hour until our money has been wired to our bank account in Zurich. We’re caught up now for the first three hours in advance. A few passengers made bad decisions. So.
“So if Finlandia gets moving, if everyone behaves, you can go back to your vacation and we will get out of your lives. And your cooperation will ensure that the crew will also survive.
“Now we are moving you upstairs to the Pool Deck. As you go through the door, drop your cell phone into the box provided. Keep cool. That’s my advice. Oh. We are looking for a volunteer. Who is the one who took pictures?” Jackhammer asked.
“This one,” said the gunman standing so close to Yuki that she could smell his sweat. He grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her forward. She had lost her footing and fallen to Jackhammer’s feet, her robe swinging open and her nightgown hiking up to her hips.
Yuki had experienced fear before. But this was an order of horror beyond her nightmares. She expected a gun in her face, a bullet to her head.
Jackhammer glared at her through slits in his mask. “Thank you for volunteering. You are the next to be shot,” he said.
Yuki struggled to her feet and backed into the crowd. And she turned her back on Jackhammer, closing her eyes as the tears sheeted down her cheeks.
If nothing else, she was going to stand up for herself as she always had.