Mississippi Roll

‘All right,’ Ray said quietly. ‘You stay here. I’m going to go see what the hell is going on.’

The Angel shook her head. ‘No, I’m coming with you.’

‘You going to be all right?’ he asked, his expression concerned.

‘Maybe. I don’t know. But I do know that there’s someone I wouldn’t mind seeing again.’

‘All right. If you’re sure.’

‘I already said that I’m not.’ Ray didn’t mind the impatience in her voice and in her expression. It was at least a sign of engagement, of a return to the world. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’ She smiled and Ray liked that even better. ‘One sword at least thy right shall guard.’

Ray remembered those same words spoken a dozen years ago and moved off into the darkness feeling whole for the first time in a long time.

The decks were deserted and quiet. His first thought was for the refugees. They found a companionway headed down into the hold and cat-footed it into the eerily lit space where they bivouacked. The lighting was provided by strung bulbs of low wattage that gleamed like will-o’-the-wisps hovering over a swamp. The air still smelled terrible. As they went silently down the ladder, they could see the mass of people sitting and standing in close ranks in the cramped hold, three men covering them with automatic rifles.

‘Jesus,’ one of them was saying, ‘what a sorry-assed lot. Be lucky if one in ten of them was worth keeping.’

‘They are a pretty useless bunch of rag-heads. Still, I reckon some of them will bring a nice price. The rest, well, fuck ’em. They can go down with the ship when we scuttle it.’

‘Hey,’ said the third, the one in the middle, ‘give me a cig, will you? I need something to cover up the stench in here.’

Ray reached the hold’s floor, maybe twenty feet behind them.

‘I need a light myself.’ The three men sidled together, keeping their rifles pointed at the mass of people in front of them. Many of the refugees, at least those who hadn’t sunken into complete lethargy, must have seen Ray creeping as stealthily as a panther, but no one gave him away with either a look or a gesture.

One of the men cradled his rifle to his side under his arm while he bent down to light his cigarette with the match offered him by the middle man, while the third reached for a packet he kept in his shirt pocket.

Morons, Ray thought, and when he was six feet away sprang with his arms widespread.

He grabbed the collars of the man to the right and to the left and smashed both their heads into that of the man in the middle. The colliding skulls made satisfyingly loud sounds. Ray held the two up by their collars as their knees sagged while the third slipped silently to the hold’s floor.

The refugees looked almost as stunned as Ray’s victims as he shook the two guards like a terrier with rats in its jaws, just to make sure they were out, then swiftly checked them all for more weapons. ‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ he told the refugees, ‘someone tie them up.’

Twenty-odd prisoners leaped forward in response. It probably would have gone more efficiently if they didn’t keep getting in one another’s way, but Ray let them have their fun. In a few moments the three were tied and gagged and Ray had distributed their guns to refugees who professed familiarity with the weapons.

‘Keep your eye on them while we take care of the rest,’ Ray told them.

‘Let us go with you,’ one of the Kazakhs offered.

Ray shook his head. ‘This job is for professionals. You stay here and guard these bozos.’

They reluctantly accepted his advice, and Ray returned to the stairway, where the Angel stood watching him.

‘I didn’t think you’d need my help,’ she said.

Ray snorted. ‘Not with those idiots. But there’s five left. Let’s check the bridge.’

The Angel nodded, and they went up the walkway to the deck above, where all was still darkness. Ahead, in the bow, they could see the lit bridge and the figures who occupied it, who were unidentifiable at this distance.

They moved quietly toward the light. Halfway there, Ray put out his arm in warning and he and the Angel stopped. They could hear something slithering before them in the darkness.

‘The snake,’ the Angel said quietly, and suddenly before them loomed IBT.

Ray thrust himself forward between him and the Angel.

‘Stop right there,’ Ray said coldly, ‘or I will seriously fuck you up.’

The human part of IBT’s body was raised up. He was as tall as a tall man standing, while the coils of his snake body writhed behind him.

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Billy Ray,’ Ray replied, ‘and I owe you big for what you did to my wife.’

‘Wife?’ The expression on the joker-ace’s face went puzzled. ‘I don’t—’ He suddenly caught sight of the Angel beside Ray. ‘She’s your wife?’

‘That’s right,’ Ray said in a flat voice.

‘I remember,’ the Infamous Black Tongue said. ‘It was in Kazakhstan, on the battlefield. Neither of us were in our right minds then.’

‘Whatever—’ Ray said, and the Angel took his arm, stopping him before he could move.

‘He’s right, Billy,’ the Angel said. ‘It’s what you’ve been telling me all this time.’

‘I am sorry for what happened,’ IBT said.

‘As am I,’ the Angel replied. ‘But there’s no time for apologies now. What’s happening on the bridge?’

‘We made a deal with the man who calls himself Witness. A million dollars to take us to refuge in Cuba. But it was all a trap – he just wanted the money and people he could sell into servitude. He plans to scuttle the ship once we’re out to sea, take off the ones he thinks would be useful, and let the old and infirm drown.’

‘Where’s the Witness?’ Ray asked.

‘On the bridge. He has Olena.’ IBT looked desperate. ‘We have to rescue her, but he has guns.’

For the first time Ray noticed that blood was oozing out of several segments of IBT’s colorful banded serpent body.

‘You’ve been shot,’ Ray said.

IBT shook his head. ‘That’s not important. He has Olena. We must rescue her.’

‘All right. Calm down,’ Ray said as he saw the desperate look return to the joker’s face. ‘Let’s see. There’s five of them—’

IBT shook his head. ‘Three. He sent out three men to guard the refugees in the hold—’

‘We took care of them,’ Ray said.

‘—and then two sentries to patrol the deck,’ IBT said, then added with some satisfaction, ‘and I took care of them.’

‘Okay,’ Ray said. He didn’t ask for details. ‘Uh, you didn’t run into a tall, pale, skinny guy in a dark suit, did you? Probably wearing a patch over one eye.’