He left them without a word.
Chapter 35
They asked Shane Billiken if he could swim and he said yes.
They asked Shane Billiken if he could swim with his hands tied behind him and his feet weighted with vats of cheese.
"Of course not," he snapped.
"Then it's settled," Dirk Edwards said. "You go over the side."
It took three of them to hold Shane Billiken down on the deck while a fourth tied his wrists behind his back with rope. Getting the goat cheese tied to his feet proved more difficult. For one thing, they found they would have to drill holes through the vats for the ropes to go through. For another, Shane kept kicking the wooden vats to pieces with his frantic feet.
"Let's think this through," Dirk Edwards said at last.
"Great idea," said Shane Billiken. "Let's not rush into anything. "
I meant how we're going to do it, not if," Dirk Edwards said. "You got us into this fool operation."
"I hired you. I gave you all my money."
"Your mistake. Besides, we aren't in this for the money. We're soldiers. We have a soldier's pride. How the fuck do you think this operation will look written up in the pages of Soldier of Fortune?"
"Not so hot if it comes out that you murdered your employer," Shane pointed out.
"Exactly. Not to mention all the screwing around these islands we've done. Gus, find something we can use as a plank. "
"Plank?" Shane said blankly.
"Yeah, it's traditional during mutinies to make the captain walk the plank. And I'm a traditional kind of guy."
"I don't think you guys are considering the karmic repercussions of this."
"You're right. We're not."
"Look, I can pay you more money. Just don't kill me."
"We got all your money. You just said so."
"Then I'll cut you in on the treasure. Did I tell you guys about the treasure? Half for me, half for you guys to split up."
"We don't need you to find any treasure."
"Sure you do. Only I know what the girl looks like. And the two with her."
"A white guy and a gook in a party dress. How many of them can there be in the South Pacific?"
"You never know. Synchronicity is one of the great misunderstood forces of the cosmos."
"So are sharks. Hey, somebody see if there's any red meat left. Throw it in the water. It'll be more fun if we toss him into a mess of man-eaters."
"No, not that. Anything but that."
"No, not that," Dirk Edwards mimicked. "Anything but that. You sound like a pansy. I hate pansies. I gotta kill you for that reason alone."
"And for the cheese," someone joined in.
"Yeah. For the damned cheese. I should never have signed on without checking you out more carefully."
"There's no more meat," a voice called up from below.
"Damn. I guess it's back to the cheese."
Shane Billiken resumed kicking wildly. "No, no, no!" he screamed.
"Hey, shut up! Shut him up." It was Gus. His voice was excited.
Dirk Edwards dropped into a crouch and clamped a dirty hand over Billiken's wide mouth. "What is it?" he hissed.
"I see an island."
"Steer clear of it. The Hawaiian authorities probably have the whole South Pacific on the lookout for us."
"Maybe. But not this island."
"Say again?"
"There's a junk lying at anchor on this side."
Dirk Edwards replaced his hand with a boot and stood up. Shane Billiken tried to shake the boot out of his mouth, but that only made the boot press down harder. He stopped struggling.
"Yeah, yeah," Dirk said, his voice rising.
Shane Billiken felt the boot go away and two hands yank him to his feet.
"That the junk?" Edwards demanded, pointing.
Shane Billiken said, "Yes!" He would have said yes if he had been asked if Peking was the capital of Alaska.
"Change in plans," Dirk said. "We ain't going to kill you. But you gotta do everything we say from now on."
"Done," said Shane Billiken. "Thank you."
"We ain't doing this for you. We can't kill you without noise and I ain't blowing our chance to salvage something from this miserable operation."
"Whatever works," said Shane Billiken gratefully.