The Subtle Art of Love and War 3

Chapter 29: Sanlorenzo

Claire empties the contents of her fanny pack on to the space next to her. She then unwraps a crying Luna from her chest and feeds her whilst I examine her valuables. We'll need cash and I'm glad she as a thick wad of euros in her person. Her revolver lies heavily on the cushion; that's a plus too. She has two passports-a fake one with the name Sally Mercado, and her real one. We'll need that to go around.

"Phone?" I inquire, not turning to her to give her a little privacy.

"Ditched it back in San Sebastián. I didn't want to risk getting tracked."

I nod. Smart. "We have to buy a burner phone so I can call my wife. We can't stay here." I look around the luxurious cabin. It's only been a few minutes but the owner might be back soon and the last thing I want is for them to call the cops on us. "And we also can't walk around the streets looking like this," I say, gesturing down my body and nodding towards her.

"We need to blend in. Wait here," I tell her with my eyes on what I presume to be a walk-in closet.

When I open the sliding door, I'm greeted with an expensive array of menswear but nothing for Claire. Still, I quickly change into a pair of designer navy chinos, printed shirt and boat shoes. Whoever owns this yacht is close to my size, thank fuck. Next, I take the steps up from the aft cabin that leads to the main saloon, searching for other rooms that may have anything useful for Claire. I successfully find one in a room that is equally luxurious as the aft cabin. I grab whatever I can get my hands on, returning to where I left Claire and hoping that the clothes and shoes would fit her.

She disappears in the en suite whilst I strap Luna to my front using the same wrap and when she emerges, she starts to protest. "You don't have to carry her."

"They're looking for a woman carrying an infant. It'll look less suspicious this way," I explain, my voice flat and final.

"Okay," she relents albeit reluctantly. I can tell she doesn't like other people holding her child and I get that, especially in the situation she's in. She only has Luna now and to have a stranger carrying her instead herself, it's hard. "Is this okay?" She gestures down to her outfit.

I silently nod. "That will have to do."

She wears a loose fitting satin top and a pair of white cotton shorts that looks a size bigger for her. She opted to use her flip flops instead of the doll shoes I found, saying it's too big for her feet, and instead of the bucket hat she was wearing, she replaced it with a wide-rimmed summer hat that came in the pile I tossed her earlier.

"We have to go," I announce, looking out the tinted glass and straining my ears to listen if there are still any commotion around this part of the marina. I hear none. "I think it's safe enough out there, but just keep your head down until we find a cellphone shop." Turning back to her, I ask, "You ready?"

She nods, teeth worrying her cracked lips. "Bahala na si Batman," she mumbles which I choose to ignore. (It's all up to Batman *Pinoy idiom*)

Every step I take is careful and guarded, my heart pounding violently as we exit the confines of aft cabin. Her revolver weighs heavy between my lower back and the waistband of my borrowed chinos and perfectly concealed by the shirt that's one size bigger for me. Luna is milk drunk and groggily fights sleep whilst tucked safely against my chest. The sun is slowly dipping now. We need to move faster.

Lights are starting to switch on from the idly yachts, glittering the surface of Ibiza's pristine waters. Owners and their guests litter the docks but thankfully, no one seems to notice us as I cross over the small gap between the yacht and the wooden planks. More importantly, there are no coppers in sight. I hope that's the case until we find a store that cells phones. Claire and I keep our heads down regardless. She walks closely next to me, two fingers pinching a portion of Luna's wrap so she's still attached to her daughter in any way.