Page 10 of Dalla's Royal Guards
Musad grinned back at the eighteen-year-old. Even though fewer than ten years separated them, Musad felt much older. Manny’s eyes lacked the cynicism that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.
“Hey, Manny,” Nasser greeted in an amiable tone.
“Hey, Nasser.”
Musad chuckled at Manny’s lack of etiquette. The younger man was oblivious that he was in the presence of royalty. Manny grabbed the duffle bag Nasser held over the side. The younger man grunted under the weight.
“Damn, what are you guys carrying… gold?” Manny asked.
“Weapons,” Nasser replied cheerfully.
Manny whistled. “I can barely handle that stuff in video games—it looks painful.” He gave a theatrical wince.
“It is,” Musad said.
Manny stared at him with his mouth open before he snapped it shut when Donovan appeared along with five other men. Manny looked at the men, their gear, then down at his boat. He shook his head.
“I don’t think I can carry all of you in one trip,” Manny commented.
“You will only be taking Nasser, myself, and one more,” Musad replied.
“Oh, in that case, we’re good,” Manny replied with a laugh.
Musad nodded and tossed his bag to Manny. The younger man caught it with an ease that belied his earlier comment about the weight of their bags and placed it in the bottom of the boat.
Nasser climbed over the side and jumped into Manny’s fishing boat. Colin Matez, the oldest of the special force group, followed. Musad turned and spoke quietly to Donovan, who nodded before he climbed over and hopped down.
“We’ll be ready,” Donovan promised, untying the bow rope.
Musad held onto the grab rail around the windshield of the center console as Manny skillfully pushed the throttle forward and they sped away from the trawler. The wind whipped his thick black hair from his face.
A thin film of salt spray coated his skin. He took a deep breath of the fresh air. He loved the water. Even the knowledge that this might be his last day on this planet didn’t detract from his momentary enjoyment. The water was a part of his blood, just as the danger they were going into was.
He scanned the shoreline as they followed the unmarked channel toward a narrow cut. Manny’s boat was a flat-bottom skiff and could handle the shallow water. Manny slowed the skiff until it was idling.
“Don’t want to make a wake through here. It will draw attention,” Manny cautioned.
“Are the vehicles ready?” Nasser asked.
“Yes. The money you sent made several of my cousins very happy. They have been wanting new cars,” Manny chuckled.
Musad frowned. “If something happens, they will be traced back to you,” he said.
Manny shook his head. “Not for these. Did I mention that my cousins are in the… less than savory used car market? They aren’t happy with the recent change in government. They have graciously volunteered to provide more support if needed. They don’t have the same aversion to blood and violence that I do.”
“We don’t want your family involved any more than they have been,” Nasser asserted.
Manny shrugged. “We were all-in the moment Hannibal Crosse and General Victor Hellman targeted Nanna. Our family is very sensitive about things like that.”
“So are we,” Musad murmured.
Manny navigated the skiff through a narrow gap and tilted the motor until it was barely in the water. Musad could see the ripple of sand mere inches under the hull. Fifteen feet in, the water deepened, and Manny lowered the motor.
“We keep this dredged… for business,” Manny said with a flashing grin.
Colin released a snort of amusement. It was obvious that Manny was more than an angler. The cut appeared to be unnavigable to all but those who knew better. They traveled nearly half-a-mile inland before Musad spotted a hidden dock. It had been skillfully built under a hammock of palm trees.
“It’s getting harder to keep things hidden with all the satellite images, so we have to be creative,” Manny said, pulling the throttle back and coasting toward the dock.
