Contract to Kill by Andrew Peterson Page A

compartment used for smuggling. The modification to the yacht had cost over $1.2 million, but it was a small price to pay in the event Yoonsuh were ever boarded. No one but the crew knew the steel deck above the keel had been elevated by two feet, creating a sizable smuggling compartment. The only way to access it involved removing the desalination system, a painstaking operation that required a hydraulic jack to hoist the ship’s boiler. His crew practiced removing and replacing the boiler on a regular basis and had the procedure down to a science.
    Everyone aboard held proper ID and passports, even the new passenger. The few times Yoonsuh had been boarded in US waters, the Coast Guard never found anything out of order and the ship was allowed to continue on its voyages.
    The skiff’s usefulness expired, its inflatable pontoons were punctured and it was summarily sunk, outboard motor and all. Its plunge to the seabed would be a long one—several miles.
    Back inside the bridge, the captain entered a course of 76.65 degrees into the nav computer and dialed their speed to sixteen knots. Their first destination was the Hawaiian Islands for a refueling stop. The voyage would take 237 hours, just under ten days. Until then, they’d just have to endure one of the most prestigious luxury yachts afloat.

CHAPTER 11
    Every two minutes, Toby stopped pacing and peered through the curtains. McBride and Fontana couldn’t get back here fast enough. Mara had repeatedly asked him to relax, but after what he’d seen, he wouldn’t be relaxing anytime soon. For the twentieth time, he wished he’d never followed Hahn.
    Despite the circumstances, it felt good to see McBride. They’d kept in touch, even after he’d paid off his academy debt. Toby couldn’t consider McBride a close friend, but they shared the brotherhood of the Marines, and that was enough. He wished the auto accident hadn’t ended his career as an MP—he’d really liked being a military cop. Looking back on his life, he’d have done a lot of things differently, like taking better care of his finances. When you spend more than you make, the outcome is never good.
    At least the video he’d made for McBride was complete. He’d been surprised at the amount of detail he’d remembered.
    Mara’s reaction at seeing McBride hadn’t surprised him. She’d told him they’d seen each other frequently when she’d worked for Karen. Toby had many faults, but hanging onto baggage from the past wasn’t one of them. They loved each other and were getting married in a few months. Since Mara had been open and honest about her past, he’d never hold it against her.
    He’d finally stopped pacing and settled his nerves when a car alarm went off, and it sounded like his Sentra’s. He rushed over to the window and cracked the curtains.
    “What’s going on?” Mara asked.
    “Some dickhead’s breaking into my car!”

    “The curtains just moved,” Chip whispered. “He’s at the window.”
    Mason reared back and kicked Haynes’s door. It flew open with a loud bang.
    Inside, he pivoted toward the window and caught Haynes by surprise.
    Movement on his left caught his eye.
    A woman stood in the living room, her hand covering her mouth.
    Bad move , Mason thought. You should’ve screamed.
    Chip was on her before she could remove her hand.
    Dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, Haynes reacted quickly. He lowered his head and charged toward Chip.
    Mason stepped aside and swung his suppressed handgun. The blow caught the big man squarely on the side of his head. As if short-circuited, Haynes’s legs quit working. Mason knelt close and belted him a second time, not as hard. He didn’t want Haynes unconscious, only dazed.
    He spotted the car keys on the kitchen counter and ended the obnoxious shrieking. The ploy had served its purpose, moving Toby to the window overlooking the street.
    Mason propped a chair against the front door to keep it closed.
    “Darla, status?”
    Her voice came