Operation Sea Ghost by Mack Maloney Read Free Book Online Page A

There was no one up here, which is just as he wanted it.
    His spirits were soaring into overdrive. The night sky above seemed to be on fire, with the stars revolving and dancing and moving in elaborate patterns. The air itself smelled glorious. The water below looked like a lake of champagne.
    He felt all this, truly and deeply, even though he’d not had a drop of alcohol or any drugs since coming aboard. These things really didn’t interest him anymore. He was naturally high. Feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from him, he was seeing life as it really was for the first time. And life was wonderful.
    He whispered under his breath: “Thank you, Chief … thank you for saving me.”
    That’s when he sensed someone behind him, someone close enough to touch him. He turned, expecting to find the Italian or the Austrian, looking for another joint.
    Instead he saw a strange glowing figure materializing before his eyes. The figure was dressed all in white, yet Batman could see right through him.
    A ghost …
    Was that possible?
    The apparition looked him in the eyes—and Batman felt his knees turn to rubber.
    This was no ordinary phantom.
    Batman knew him well.…
    *   *   *
    NOLAN HAD DRAINED four beers in thirty minutes. He was still hanging back from the rest of the guests and constantly checking his watch.
    The encounter with the headwaiter had burst his bubble. Now he was counting the minutes before they could get off this tub.
    A woman approached him out of the dark. She was not a model, but then again not unattractive. Maybe in her forties, blond, with a good shape and a nice tan.
    California …
    Nolan knew it the moment he spotted her.
    She introduced herself, but Nolan didn’t really catch her name. She was with People magazine.
    “I was just briefed by studio publicity about this rescue mission,” she said. “And someone told me you were involved?”
    Nolan was nonchalant. “I was,” he replied.
    “Do you know that Miramax is already talking about a movie?”
    “Seriously?” he asked.
    “You sound shocked.…”
    “I shouldn’t be, I guess,” he said. “Things move pretty quick these days.”
    She took out a small tape recorder. “So, how did it go?” she asked him. “During the rescue mission?”
    Nolan shrugged. “We got the gig, flew in, found the bad guys’ camp, blew it up, rescued the hostages and flew back.”
    “And how many pirates did Emma herself take out?” she asked.
    Nolan laughed. But then he realized the reporter was serious.
    “None that I saw,” he replied. “She was tied up until the battle was over.”
    “Interesting,” the reporter said. “Can I use that?”
    Nolan shrugged again. “Sure, why not?”
    Suddenly all activity on the yacht came to a stop. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the center of the mid deck where a dozen people had been led up from below. None of them were wearing party gear; just the opposite, in fact, many were dressed in rags. Nolan realized who these people were: the twelve other hostages Whiskey had rescued earlier that day.
    A half dozen photographers followed them up on deck, all from People . The hostages were made to line up in two awkward rows, the photographers turning them this way and that. Then giant flash reflectors were put in place. Strobes were tested. Light readings taken. Soon enough, they were ready to take a picture.
    But someone was missing.
    Emma Simms.
    Thirty seconds later, she appeared across the deck, making a grand entrance as usual. But to say she looked beautiful was like saying the ocean was wet.
    Radiant. Striking. Transcendent …
    Even those words didn’t come close.
    She was wearing an elegant white gown, with a plunging neckline—but nothing too drastic. Her hair was flowing blond curls. Her face angelic.
    But she also looked terminally bored and totally uninterested in her own party.
    She was ushered to a spot in the front row of the hostages. Once she was settled, she gave her publicist a