Hostage to Fortune

Chapter Sixteen

When they left Gibraltar Ryan set in a course for Casablanca. He was an angry man. Angry that Will had survived, and angry that Samantha had wanted to stay in Gibraltar. Why couldn't she see how stupid that was, unless, of course, she was planning to turn Queen's evidence. That thought irritated him further still. He went below to talk to her.

Finding the cabin locked he knocked on the door.

'Sam, let me in we need to talk.'

She came to the door and the look on her face told him he would have a tough time convincing her of anything.

'So now you've added kidnapping to your list of crimes. You needn't think you're spending the night with me unless you fancy adding rape to the list.'

'Calm down Sam, just calm down. You know as well as I do, that you would have got on the boat. I just didn't have the time to persuade you. We had to leave in a hurry before the police got the whole story.'

'That's where you're wrong. I wouldn't have let you persuade me. I was going to get on the first plane home. Will needs me now, I was going to him.'

'You'd have been going straight to a prison cell don't you see? You've given a false statement to the police, as far as they are concerned you were part of what happened. I had to save you from that. Everything I've done I've done for us so that we could be together.'

'Well, so far all you've done is make us wanted criminals do you think they are going to put us in prison together because that's where we are headed? Is that why you are holding me, prisoner?.'

'Oh come on, Sam, you're not a prisoner.'

'Then let me go ashore.'

'You can and you will, Let me in and let's talk.'

'No, now leave me alone.'

The Straights of Gibraltar is a busy shipping lane and Ryan couldn't leave the helm unattended for long so he went up on deck, still trying to figure out what to do next. Somehow, he had to make her understand. He knew that he needed a new plan, maybe a day in Morocco would give him the chance to sort something out.

The only thing Samantha knew of Casablanca was from the film starring Humphrey Bogart. For her, it had a romantic image. Ryan had been there before; he knew that it was just another commercial port. He took her through the town as they arranged to restock Bee Jay's larder. Sam's mood was already low. Ryan's behaviour in Gibraltar had upset her. She was starting to feel like a prisoner. Now as they walked the dirty streets of Casablanca another dream was being shattered. Sam had no idea where she was going so she was completely dependant on Ryan to guide her through the maze of narrow streets and alleyways. She'd done her best to dress modestly still she felt the shopkeepers to leering at her. By the time they'd finished shopping, she was relieved to be back aboard the boat.

With Bee Jay fully stocked and fuelled up, he worked out a plan. Being unaware of Bee Jay's tracker constantly giving away their position Ryan thought he'd come up with a way of giving the authorities the slip. In the morning, he set sail and headed out in the direction of Madeira. Four hours out he turned and shadowed a cruise ship as best he could back towards the African coast. From there it was a matter of mingling with the coastal traffic back into the Mediterranean. By nightfall, they were back in the Straits of Gibraltar.

Ryan considered night time sailing in the Med to be too dangerous so he dropped anchor just off Tangier. His mind was still in turmoil. The only thing he could think of was to run, but they couldn't run forever.

All-day long, he racked his brain trying to figure out how Will could have survived. He'd thought the blow was hard enough to kill him. Then again, the Atlantic Ocean should have finished him off. He'd checked the radar, he didn't think there were any vessels close enough to have reached him in enough time to save him, not even if they'd known he was in the water.

Perhaps it was a trick. Maybe the police had told them Will was alive, to see what they would do. If that was the case, he'd really blown it. The more he thought about it, the less credence he gave that theory. After all, if that had been the plan, surely they would have been apprehended trying to leave the harbour.

Once he'd dropped anchor, he went down to talk to Samantha. He had contemplated letting her go ashore but quickly dismissed it. He could understand that she was probably frightened and was desperate to get back to people who could help her. He convinced himself that, given time he would make her see that he could and would protect her.

What he needed was a plan. By sailing back into the Med, he'd already done something that no one would expect. Now he would continue along those lines by giving Samantha the Mediterranean holiday she'd been promised. The only restriction would be that he would have to steer clear of countries where the port authorities might be on the ball. He'd ruled out Spain and Italy. The Greek authorities tended to be more laid back and on the islands even more so. While people were looking for them in the Canaries, they would be swanning around the Med before slipping through the Suez Canal.

Once again the cabin was locked and no amount of knocking or calling out would make her open the door. Disappointed, Ryan made his way down to the crew's cabin. He lay on a bunk and tried to sleep. Sleep didn't come easily. His mind was full of scenarios for him to analyse. He thought about what would happen if they were caught. In a way, it was good that Will Wainwright had survived the penalty for attempting murder is much less than the penalty for succeeding. He tried to imagine what it would be like in prison. He'd heard tales about younger men being buggered by the larger long-term prisoners.

Once he'd decided that they weren't going to be caught, he started to think about how they would survive. They couldn't live on Bee Jay forever. Turning over in his bunk an idea occurred to him. Perhaps the solution was beneath him at that very moment. Bee Jay cost Wainwright a pretty penny, millions his dad had said. All he had to do was find some way of selling it. He had a few contacts in the yachting world, and he knew there were some shady types around. It was just a matter of finding the right one. He decided to start calling people as soon as he went ashore.