Disclaimer: Not mine.
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Captive 1
Eye of the Tiger
"Oh, Kami, now what?"
It was another boat, wasn't it? Rescue? Marron pounded a clenched fist against her thigh, and briefly closed here eyes, begging for a miracle.
"Please! I need help!"
She hadn't meant to speak, though the strangled whisper was a much a prayer as a frantic question. She also prayed that her words were drowned by the sound of the boat's approaching engines. It cut powerfully across the water, reaching into Marron's hiding place, and into her dazed awareness. She stayed very still, listening, trying to think, trying to get herself under control.
Marron hated that all she could do was hide. She hated the fear. She hated the knowledge that her uncle, aunt and the yacht's four-man crew were all dead. They had to be dead. She'd heard the pleas, and her aunt's assurances to the invaders that there was no one else aboard. Then had come the blasts, the screams, and the thud of falling bodies.
There'd been the laughter of strangers along with the shots and death. She heard it all from her hiding spot in the head. She should have done something to help, but it had all happened so fast, a minute or two of hell at most. A minute or two and everyone she loved in the world were gone.
Now she listened to the invaders moving around overhead, talking and commenting on the approach of another vessel. Soon they'd search the boat, and she'd be dead too. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not as the deep roar of the newcomer's engine reverberated around her. Her heart thudded hard against her chest; her stomach was curdled with terror. She guessed, from the changing tone of the invaders' voices, that things were about to get worse. Her urge was to stay where she was, frozen with terror, praying not to be found by anybody. But her very active mind raced as she dashed away blinding tears. This was no time to cry, no time for panic. There had to be something she could do! Maybe she was going to die, but she didn't want to cower in the toiler any longer, waiting for it. Her own life wasn't all that important, but maybe she could live long enough to find some justice for the ones so needlessly dead. She had to do something.
After all, it was her fault they were dead.
Cautiously, very slowly, she opened she pushed open the head door. The tiny cubicle was at the bottom of the short, steep stairway that led up to the main deck. Beyond the stairs a narrow hallway led to the yacht's luxurious living quarters. Marron considered hiding in one of the bedrooms, but didn't suppose that would do her any good than hiding in the head once the search began. She hesitated by the stairs, toying with the wild idea of sneaking up on deck and stealing one of the invaders' boats. She knew nothing about driving a powerboat, less about navigation, but getting lost on open sea was better than getting murdered. Not seeing anyone at the top of the stairs, she forced herself to take two cautious steps up. Only to fold into a shaking ball on the third step, ducking at the sound of nearby voices.
"Tigre," someone called out. "You're early."
"I make it a habit, Radditz," came the cool reply. "What happened here?"
Marron lifted her head at the sound of the man called Tiger's calm voice. She responded to the controlled precision of his tone. She heard the air of command and a good deal of arrogance from this Tiger, though he'd only spoken a few words. His voice might sound fascinating, but what difference did that make? He wasn't an angel come to rescue her, but another modern- day pirate, someone who knew her family's murderers, did business with them. She hated him already.
"The boat was here peacefully fishing when we arrived. We liked what we saw," she heard Radditz continue. "So we took it, I have a plan."
"Something you needed bigger boat for?"
"That's right, Tigre. We're changing the rules."
"Piccolo makes the rules."
Tiger sounded annoyed, contemptuous, and more than a little suspicious. Radditz sounded expansively cheerful. The dangerous undercurrents in every word they spoke sent shivers down Marron's spine. Tension hung in the hot air. Something awful - something else awful - was about to happen. "Forget Piccolo. You deal with us, Tigre."
"I don't think so."
"Fine. Then we'll take your cargo, just like we took this boat, and keep the money. We're in business for ourselves now."
"Take my cargo?"
"That's right."
Tiger laughed, it was a dangerous sound."
Another voice shouted, "Look out, Tiger!"
Then the shooting started again.
Marron covered her ears, and pressed her body as close as she could to the stairwell while the shots and shouts raged above her. After a few moments the determination to escape overcame the fear.
The roar of a boat engine brought her head up.
"Radditz and his men are getting away!"
"Let them!" Tiger shouted above the noise.
There was more gunfire, and the sounds of running feet thudding across the deck.
Marron knew that the chaos on deck might provide her only chance to escape. In the end, the decision to dash up the stairs was governed by the knowledge that she was in no more danger than trying to dodge a firefight than she was waiting to be found.
No one noticed her when she found flimsy shelter hiding behind a canvas deck chair. As soon as the shooting lessened she crawled toward the outside edge of the deck, heading for the large boat tied up near the stern. As she stood she caught a glimpse of a sleek red boat moving through the water away from the yacht, and the chiseled features of a dark- haired man as he glanced back for one long look at the people on deck of the yacht before speeding away.
She didn't look back when she began to run. She'd almost made it to the railing when a knife flew past her to bury itself in the mahogany desk in front of her. She tripped as she stumbled over the hilt. Marron fell, rolled, and grabbed the knife haft without thinking. She had no idea what to do with a weapon, especially a knife against guns, but she automatically grabbed at any slim chance to survive. However, having the knife did her no good because the moment she jumped back to her feet, it was kicked out of her hand, landing far across the deck.
She was trapped, defenseless, quickly surrounded by at least half a dozen armed men. Marron found herself staring into the icy blue eyes of the man who'd disarmed her. He was a very tall man, lean but broad-shouldered, tautly muscled and dressed all in black, bringing midnight into the Caribbean day. It was his predator's eyes that caught and held her attention. He was the leader. A real tiger.
Even knowing what sort of man he had to be, Marron couldn't stop herself from reaching a hand towards him. She just barely managed to keep from begging him not to hurt her or help her, though she had to bite her tongue to do it. She couldn't look away from him though, and knew he read her weakness in her eyes.
The man called Tiger slipped a large gun into a shoulder holster, and the knife into a sheath on his belt. The movement drew Marron's gaze down his chest and to his lean hips and the hard-muscled thighs outlined by his tight black jeans. Awareness of his body sang shockingly through her, confused her. The sudden spark in his eyes reminded her that all she was wearing was a bright red bikini. She had to fight the urge to cover herself with her hands. Shame raced along with the unexpected heat in her blood, and Marron closed her eyes briefly. When she did grief flooded in, memory of her aunt's last words and the sound of gunfire filled her mind.
"Maybe they aren't dead!" The thought and the words came at the same time. Marron would have raced away to search for her family, but the Tiger in black blocked her from moving.
"They're dead." He said the cold, hard words without sympathy or compassion. The rest of his men had gathered around them now. He took his gaze off her to speak to them. "What about Radditz's men, Scythe?"
"They all got away," Scythe responded.
"Looks like we spoiled their party though," one of the others said. "Party time for us now."
Marron heard their laughter and terror shot through her grief. She had the impression that these renegades were circling her like starving sharks. They were all staring hungrily.
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It's now time for our favorite game, "What has she done to Marron now?" She was unbelievably innocent in Fair, and then she became pudgy in Helpless. Can you guess what's different from our "average" Marron here? That'll be obvious in the next few chapters.
The titles are going to be taken from songs that I like and are also related to the chapter, of course. I don't really fancy this song, but I think it suits the atmosphere here. Lots of tension and the will to survive in the air.
Tell me what you think. Onegaishimasu!
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Captive 1
Eye of the Tiger
"Oh, Kami, now what?"
It was another boat, wasn't it? Rescue? Marron pounded a clenched fist against her thigh, and briefly closed here eyes, begging for a miracle.
"Please! I need help!"
She hadn't meant to speak, though the strangled whisper was a much a prayer as a frantic question. She also prayed that her words were drowned by the sound of the boat's approaching engines. It cut powerfully across the water, reaching into Marron's hiding place, and into her dazed awareness. She stayed very still, listening, trying to think, trying to get herself under control.
Marron hated that all she could do was hide. She hated the fear. She hated the knowledge that her uncle, aunt and the yacht's four-man crew were all dead. They had to be dead. She'd heard the pleas, and her aunt's assurances to the invaders that there was no one else aboard. Then had come the blasts, the screams, and the thud of falling bodies.
There'd been the laughter of strangers along with the shots and death. She heard it all from her hiding spot in the head. She should have done something to help, but it had all happened so fast, a minute or two of hell at most. A minute or two and everyone she loved in the world were gone.
Now she listened to the invaders moving around overhead, talking and commenting on the approach of another vessel. Soon they'd search the boat, and she'd be dead too. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not as the deep roar of the newcomer's engine reverberated around her. Her heart thudded hard against her chest; her stomach was curdled with terror. She guessed, from the changing tone of the invaders' voices, that things were about to get worse. Her urge was to stay where she was, frozen with terror, praying not to be found by anybody. But her very active mind raced as she dashed away blinding tears. This was no time to cry, no time for panic. There had to be something she could do! Maybe she was going to die, but she didn't want to cower in the toiler any longer, waiting for it. Her own life wasn't all that important, but maybe she could live long enough to find some justice for the ones so needlessly dead. She had to do something.
After all, it was her fault they were dead.
Cautiously, very slowly, she opened she pushed open the head door. The tiny cubicle was at the bottom of the short, steep stairway that led up to the main deck. Beyond the stairs a narrow hallway led to the yacht's luxurious living quarters. Marron considered hiding in one of the bedrooms, but didn't suppose that would do her any good than hiding in the head once the search began. She hesitated by the stairs, toying with the wild idea of sneaking up on deck and stealing one of the invaders' boats. She knew nothing about driving a powerboat, less about navigation, but getting lost on open sea was better than getting murdered. Not seeing anyone at the top of the stairs, she forced herself to take two cautious steps up. Only to fold into a shaking ball on the third step, ducking at the sound of nearby voices.
"Tigre," someone called out. "You're early."
"I make it a habit, Radditz," came the cool reply. "What happened here?"
Marron lifted her head at the sound of the man called Tiger's calm voice. She responded to the controlled precision of his tone. She heard the air of command and a good deal of arrogance from this Tiger, though he'd only spoken a few words. His voice might sound fascinating, but what difference did that make? He wasn't an angel come to rescue her, but another modern- day pirate, someone who knew her family's murderers, did business with them. She hated him already.
"The boat was here peacefully fishing when we arrived. We liked what we saw," she heard Radditz continue. "So we took it, I have a plan."
"Something you needed bigger boat for?"
"That's right, Tigre. We're changing the rules."
"Piccolo makes the rules."
Tiger sounded annoyed, contemptuous, and more than a little suspicious. Radditz sounded expansively cheerful. The dangerous undercurrents in every word they spoke sent shivers down Marron's spine. Tension hung in the hot air. Something awful - something else awful - was about to happen. "Forget Piccolo. You deal with us, Tigre."
"I don't think so."
"Fine. Then we'll take your cargo, just like we took this boat, and keep the money. We're in business for ourselves now."
"Take my cargo?"
"That's right."
Tiger laughed, it was a dangerous sound."
Another voice shouted, "Look out, Tiger!"
Then the shooting started again.
Marron covered her ears, and pressed her body as close as she could to the stairwell while the shots and shouts raged above her. After a few moments the determination to escape overcame the fear.
The roar of a boat engine brought her head up.
"Radditz and his men are getting away!"
"Let them!" Tiger shouted above the noise.
There was more gunfire, and the sounds of running feet thudding across the deck.
Marron knew that the chaos on deck might provide her only chance to escape. In the end, the decision to dash up the stairs was governed by the knowledge that she was in no more danger than trying to dodge a firefight than she was waiting to be found.
No one noticed her when she found flimsy shelter hiding behind a canvas deck chair. As soon as the shooting lessened she crawled toward the outside edge of the deck, heading for the large boat tied up near the stern. As she stood she caught a glimpse of a sleek red boat moving through the water away from the yacht, and the chiseled features of a dark- haired man as he glanced back for one long look at the people on deck of the yacht before speeding away.
She didn't look back when she began to run. She'd almost made it to the railing when a knife flew past her to bury itself in the mahogany desk in front of her. She tripped as she stumbled over the hilt. Marron fell, rolled, and grabbed the knife haft without thinking. She had no idea what to do with a weapon, especially a knife against guns, but she automatically grabbed at any slim chance to survive. However, having the knife did her no good because the moment she jumped back to her feet, it was kicked out of her hand, landing far across the deck.
She was trapped, defenseless, quickly surrounded by at least half a dozen armed men. Marron found herself staring into the icy blue eyes of the man who'd disarmed her. He was a very tall man, lean but broad-shouldered, tautly muscled and dressed all in black, bringing midnight into the Caribbean day. It was his predator's eyes that caught and held her attention. He was the leader. A real tiger.
Even knowing what sort of man he had to be, Marron couldn't stop herself from reaching a hand towards him. She just barely managed to keep from begging him not to hurt her or help her, though she had to bite her tongue to do it. She couldn't look away from him though, and knew he read her weakness in her eyes.
The man called Tiger slipped a large gun into a shoulder holster, and the knife into a sheath on his belt. The movement drew Marron's gaze down his chest and to his lean hips and the hard-muscled thighs outlined by his tight black jeans. Awareness of his body sang shockingly through her, confused her. The sudden spark in his eyes reminded her that all she was wearing was a bright red bikini. She had to fight the urge to cover herself with her hands. Shame raced along with the unexpected heat in her blood, and Marron closed her eyes briefly. When she did grief flooded in, memory of her aunt's last words and the sound of gunfire filled her mind.
"Maybe they aren't dead!" The thought and the words came at the same time. Marron would have raced away to search for her family, but the Tiger in black blocked her from moving.
"They're dead." He said the cold, hard words without sympathy or compassion. The rest of his men had gathered around them now. He took his gaze off her to speak to them. "What about Radditz's men, Scythe?"
"They all got away," Scythe responded.
"Looks like we spoiled their party though," one of the others said. "Party time for us now."
Marron heard their laughter and terror shot through her grief. She had the impression that these renegades were circling her like starving sharks. They were all staring hungrily.
+++
It's now time for our favorite game, "What has she done to Marron now?" She was unbelievably innocent in Fair, and then she became pudgy in Helpless. Can you guess what's different from our "average" Marron here? That'll be obvious in the next few chapters.
The titles are going to be taken from songs that I like and are also related to the chapter, of course. I don't really fancy this song, but I think it suits the atmosphere here. Lots of tension and the will to survive in the air.
Tell me what you think. Onegaishimasu!