Gabriela followed the direction of his gaze and saw it—a small vessel flying the ensign of the Venezuelan Navy.
* * *
Dylan watchedthe patrol ship that now sat dead astern, riding their wake, matching their pace, following them. He didn’t like this at all. He tapped out a quick message to Tower. “Why aren’t they trying to board us?”
“I don’t know.”
If they had been planning to board, the ship would have caught up with them by now and ordered them to stop. Instead, the vessel hung back, watching, following. Were they waiting for something—another ship, a helicopter perhaps?
Using Paulito’s binoculars, Dylan watched both the sea and sky, listening for the heavy thrum of helicopter rotors, misgiving heavy in his chest.
There! And there.
They were so low in the water he’d almost missed them.
“Two cigarette boats coming in fast, three points aft of the starboard beam!”
“Cigarette boats?” Paulito gaped at him, face going pale. “Who the hell are you? I should have listened to my wife. I should have stayed home.”
“Go full throttle!” Dylan grabbed his backpack, pulled out his rifle, checked it, flipped it into full-auto. “Gabriela, get up here!”
She stood, stumbled forward, eyes wide. “What are cigarette boats?”
“Speed boats used by cartels to evade radar.” He reached for her, brought her into the shelter of the cabin. “Stay down.”
He took up position astern, watched the naval vessel veer off, its job here done. So, the navy had ties to drug smugglers. Well, no surprise there.
Dylan peered through his scope, saw men with rifles—six per boat. Not Guachimanes, but men in street clothes. Ruiz’s men.
Andes Cartel.
¡Hijoeputas! Sons of whores.
But how the hell had they found them?
He made his way back to the cabin—and pointed his rifle at Paulito. “How much are they paying you?”
“Dylan!”
“Gabi, stay down!”
Paulito stepped back, arms raised. “Don’t kill me. You’ve got this wrong. I’m not working for them—whoever they are.”
“Please, Dylan!” Gabriela stood. “I believe he’s telling the truth!”
Dylan handed the rifle to Gabi, took the controls, bringing the RHIB up to full speed. “The two of you stay down.”
“You can’t outrun them, and if you try, they’ll kill us all.”
Paulito was right. They couldn’t outrun them.
But Dylan had more experience at sea than they did. “I’ve know a few tricks.”
He could hear their engines now. They were trying to outflank him, one to port the other to starboard. “Hang on!”
He turned sharply to port, threw the RHIB into a tight spiral, cutting directly in front of one of the cigarette boats and wrapping around behind it.
Dylan held the spiral, watched as the idiots tried at first to follow him, but at that speed, they couldn’t handle it. One of the boats flipped, disgorging its crew into the sea, the second nearly colliding with the first.