Danny and Floyd went to the rear of the ship, to where the jet-skis were stored, to see whether it would be easy to steal a couple of them.

The place was closed up and empty, but Floyd produced a set of lock picks while Danny stood guard, and a moment later they were through. Floyd flipped a light switch, and they walked past the reception and changing rooms into the hanger, where the small, one-man speedboats were moored against the sides of the dock, the water lapping against their sides with each gentle sway of the giant cruise liner. Behind them was the steel door in the ship's stern through which the jet-skis would come and go while the Vinland Majesty was safely moored at harbour.

"So," said Danny. "Two problems. Are the jet-skis fuelled and ready, and how do you open the door?"

"The keys will be in a safe in the Manager's office," said Floyd, going back to the reception room. While he was gone, Danny made his way along the narrow walkway that ran alongside the dock until he reached the control panel beside the harbour door. He pressed the big, green button, but notting happened.

"There should be a master switch in the office," Floyd's echoey voice told him. "It'll probably make a light come on on the bridge, though."

"I'm pretty sure they're not paying proper attention right now," Danny called back. "Not with everything else that's going on."

"Maybe," Floyd replied, "but do you want to take the chance?"

"No choice. We can't wait until the ship's in a turmoil, looking for Dixon's killers, and only then find out if we've got an exit." He took a sweet wrapper from his pocket and dropped it on the floor; a trick they'd used before. "There," he said. "A careless officer left the place unlocked and kids got in. Fiddled with the controls. Turn it on."

A moment later, a yellow light on the control panel lipt up, and when Danny pressed the big, green button again there was a loud, electrical hum from the door and it began to open. Sea water rushed in to mingle with the water already in the dock. Danny pressed the red button below the green one and the door closed again.

"Hopefully nobody upstairs noticed that," he said as the yellow light winked out again. He walked back the way he'd come, to see Floyd leaving he office, deliberately leaving the door open as children would have. They met beside one of the jet-skis, where Floyd unscrewed the fuel cap. The smell of gasoline came wafting out. He dipped a finger in.

"Fully fueled, as I thought," he said as he screwed it back on. "A half-empty fuel tank gets condensation. Water spoils the fuel. Professionals fill 'em back up as soon as they turn the engine off."
He had one of the keys in his hand and fitted it into the ignition. He turned it and the engine roared to life. He turned it off again before someone heard. "Good to go," he said with satisfaction.

"So we've got our getaway all ready," said Danny, looking pleased. "We can plug Dixon, then come back here, jump aboard our transports of delight and race back to a life of luxury and indolence before they find his body."

"And in the meantime, we'd better make ourselves scarce before someone from the bridge comes to check up," said Floyd, heading back to the door.

Danny followed him, and they closed the door behind them, leaving it unlocked. They strolled nonchalantly along the corridor back to the busy parts of the ship, and when they began passing people they nodded pleasantly to them and told them what a lovely day it was.

☆☆☆

They expected Dixon to be back in the casino, and when they asked a junior officer, saying that they had a message for him from his wife, he confirmed that that was where he was. They thanked him and carried on.

The casino was almost deserved, which was a pleasant surprise. It would make things a lot easier. Most of the passengers were busy chasing officers, they assumed, wanting to know why they couldn't talk to people back home. Only a handful of diehard gamblers were at the tables, some at the craps table, the others at the roulette wheel. Dixon was with the second group. He didn't seem to be in a good mood, which didn't surprise the two assassins. Danny thought it quite likely that he and his partner were the two most happy and relaxed people on the ship at the moment.

The two assassins glanced at each other, each checking the other to make sure they were going ahead with the system they'd worked out over the years. One of them would go ahead to the men's room, to check that it was empty, turning away anyone who wanted to use it (I'm very sorry sir, but the facilities are out of order at the moment. We apologise for the inconvenience). The other would then send their victim there with a dose of 'Billy's Dancing Potion'; a powerful laxative absorbed through the skin that he would smear on the outside of a waterproof leather glove (I have such a terrible case of dermatitis. I don't want to shed flakes of skin all over the place). He would then stand next to the victim and 'accidentally' brush his gloved hand against the victim's hand. The fast-acting substance would soon have the man hurrying to the men's room, where the first assassin would be waiting for him.

It was a simple, foolproof system that the two men had used many times over the years, whenever their victim was in a public place and the deed couldn't wait until he was somewhere more private. Floyd made his way towards the men's room, therefore, from where he would send a signal when he was ready to receive Dixon, but before he could cross the floor another man entered the casino. An angry, drunken man. Floyd glanced back at Danny, and his partner gave the abort signal; raising his hand to scratch his nose. They wouldn't risk proceeding with such an unpredictable loose cannon on the scene. Instead, they both drifted to the craps table where they pretended to watch the gambling while keeping their eyes on Dixon and the new arrival.

The newcomer was dressed in the green uniforn of a croupier, but creased and stained and minus the cap he was supposed to be wearing on his head. His face was flushed with alcohol. The two security men on duty in the room immediately made a beeline for him and grabbed his arms. "Get off me!" he demanded furiously.
The two security men dragged him back towards the door while the gamblers watched curiously. Danny began to relax. The guards would get rid of the intruder, and then he and Floyd could get back to the business at hand. They would just have to wait a couple of minutes...

The intruder pulled his hand free and, before the guard could stop him, he slammed his fist into the other guard's stomach with all his strength. The security man doubled over with a whoosh of exhaled breath and the intruder pulled his other arm free from his grasp. The first guard was pulling an extendable baton from his belt, and he threw it out to its full length with a snap of his wrist. Then he raised his hand to bring the weapons down hard on the intruder's head.

Instead, the intruder threw his own arm up to deflect the blow, a move that imoressed Danny despite the delay it was causing his own plans. The intruder had clearly had some training in unarmed combat. The intruder then threw a punch at the security man's chin; a sideways punch designed to snap the man's head around fast enough to make his brain slam hard against the inside of his skull. The security man was knocked instantly unconscious and fell to the ground.

Travis Dixon clearly recognised the intruder, because he was staring at him in fear and backing away towards one of the casino's other exits. The intruder saw him, though, and ran towards him, charging like a mad bull at a matador. The other gamblers dodged aside as the mad croupier ran between them, and Dixon broke into a full run. He reached the door and pulled at it, but it only opened a few inches as it rubbed against the tiled, wooden floor with a dull, rasping sound. He pulled harder, opening it another few inches, but then the intruder was on him and threw him against the wall.
"Gonna mess you up!" the intruder declared, spitting the words into Dixon's face. "Gonna teach you to tell lies!" He pulled back his fist and smashed it into the billionaire's face.

The second security man was getting his breath back and was staggering over to tackle the intruder again, but Danny had seen enough to know that he wouldn't be able to stop the mad croupier. The guard was already winded, and the intruder knew how to fight. The mad croupier would deal with him easily, and then turn his attention back to Dixon. The other gamblers and croupiers were staring in shock, but doing nothing to intervene. It seemed that nothing would stop the mad croupier from venting his anger on his unfortunate victim.

Danny cursed his luck. If Dixon had to spend any length of time in the infirmary, he and Floyd would lose any chance to kill him. It seemed that, if they were to fulfill the contract they'd made with Piano, they would first have to save their victim from his assailant. The mad croupier was already smashing his fist into Dixon's face again, while the billionaire threw his hands up in a futile attempt to defend himself. The intruder threw his next punch into the billionaire's stomach, making Dixon double over on terror and pain, and then the intruder pulled his fist back for a third blow into his face.

Danny met Floyd's eyes and nodded towards their intended victim. Floyd nodded, and the two of them ran to the billionaire's assistance. They reached him at the same time as the second security man, and the three of them pulled the intruder away from Dixon. "Let me go!" the intruder shouted. "He's got it coming! He's got it coming!"

Danny didn't doubt it, but the billionaire getting his just desserts here and now didn't suit his purposes at all. While the security man struggled to hold the intruder with crude, physical strength, therefore, Danny extended the fingers of his right hand and jabbed the intruder as hard as he could in the middle of the back, crushing a nerve ganglion between his fingertips and the bones of the man's spine.

The intruder spasmed as the lower half of his body went limp and numb, and he slumped to his knees, allowing the security man to overpower him. He took a plasticuff from his belt and used it to tie the intruder's hands behind his back. Then he glanced back, to where the first security man was climbing unsteadily to his feet. "You okay?" he asked. The first security man just nodded while leaning against a poker table for support.

Danny and Floyd turned to go, wanting to lose themselves before anyone took too close a look at their faces, but it was too late. Dixon was reaching out to grab Danny's arm. "Thank you," he said, blood running from his nose and a split in his lip. "Thank you."

"No problem," Danny replied. "Glad to be of service."

"Watch him," the second security man said to the on-duty croupier, dragging the intruder to the roulette table where he handcuffed him to the table with a second plasticuff. The croupier nodded uncertainly. The security man then went to his colleague, who was swaying dizzily, one hand to his head. "Get that man to the doctor," he called across to Danny. "I've gotta look after my colleague."

"Er, we don't want to to get involved..." said Danny, trying to gently prise Dixon's fingers from his arm.

"You are involved," the security man told him. "All you've got to do is walk him to the infirmary. Make sure he doesn't collapse on the way."

Danny cursed his luck. On the face of it, this was the perfect opportunity to take the billionaire to some deserted part of the ship and snap his neck, but too many people had seen their faces. When he was found dead, the other patrons of the casino would remember that he'd left with them. Their descriptions would be given to the police, and their ability to roam the world freely would be gone for ever. They had no choice, it seemed. They would have to deliver Dixon safely to the infirmary and hope for another opportunity to kill him another day.

Looking across, he saw the same knowledge on the glum face of his partner, along with a wry look of amusement as the turn events had taken. "Come on, mate," said Floyd, therefore, taking the billionaire's other arm. "Let's go get you fixed up."

"I won't forget this," Dixon promised as he allowed the two men to lead him through the exit. "I can be very generous to people who help me."

"Don't mention it," Danny replied through gritted teeth as he helped him along the corridor.

☆☆☆

They left Dixon in the care of a nurse, who sat him in a chair and began dabbing at his face with an antiseptic swab. Danny and Floyd then slipped quietly back out into the corridor. "The man has the devil's own luck," said Floyd as they walked slowly back the way they'd come.

"He'll be spending the rest of the day in his cabin, feeling sorry for himself" Danny replied. "After an attack like that, people are scared to be among strangers. They stay where they feel safe. He'll probably have his meals brought to him. We won't get another chance today."

"Maybe he'll get his nerve back and venture out tomorrow," said Floyd.

"Maybe, but I reckon the man's a coward. He might stay cooped up in there until we get to Rio."

"So we do 'im in his cabin," said Floyd. "Along with anyone else who might be in there."

"Collareral damage is the hallmark of an amateur," said Danny, though. "We're better than that, and we've got a reputation to protect." He sighed. "I guess we're staying on this ship a little longer after all. We'll give it twenty four hours and see if he's recovered enough to come out of hiding."

"And if he hasn't?"

"Then we go with your plan. I don't like killing bystanders, but the important thing is that we fulfil the contract. Nothing destroys your reputation like letting a mark get away."

Floyd nodded, and they walked in silence for a while. "What about those two we left waiting for us," he said a few moments later.
"What about them?"

"When we decided to stand them up, we were planning on being off this ship and far away. Now, though, we're stuck here with them. What if they're pissed and come looking for us?"

"Too bad for them if they do."

Floyd nodded, but he was looking thoughtful. "Yeah," he said  "but think about it. We do Dixon, get ashore and lose ourselves in the crowd. We're good at evading the authorities, but what if we didn't have to? What if they had a ready-made suspect right here, aboard the boat, with an illegal gun on him to prove what a naughty boy he is? I mean, yeah, we're going to do Dixon silently, with a knife, but even so... Who's going to believe a man naughty enough to carry an illegal gun didn't do it? He'll get locked up, and you and me'll be free and clear."

"You want to give them our spare guns?" said Danny, his eyes widening. "You were the one who didn't like the idea."

"I like the idea of a patsy taking a fall for the deed," said Floyd. "I like the idea of not having the Brazilian cops looking for us. If all it costs us is a couple of guns, I'd say that's a bargain."

"They know what we look like," Danny reminded him. "They could give our descriptions to the authorities."

"Why should the authorities believe them? The Brazilian cops are probably the same as all other cops everywhere. Once they've got someone in the frame for something, all they care about is pinning it on 'em. They stop looking for anyone else. They're not going to listen to anything The Third tells 'em unless it's a confession."

Danny nodded as he considered the idea. "Could work," he said. "And if, for some reason, we're not able to do Dixon tomorrow, The Third still thinks we're friends. Who knows? We might actually find a use for an ally."

"You like the idea, then?"

"You come up with a good thought every now and then. It means we'd have to ditch the idea of leaving the ship. A couple of missing jet-skis would be a dead giveaway."

"We won't need to run if there's no-one chasing us," said Floyd. "Right?"

"True enough. But what if they decide not to stay on our side? What if they decide we'd be good patsies for something they do?"

"As you like to say, too bad for them if they do."

Danny nodded, considering the thought. "Could make sense," he said a few moments later. "Maybe."

"If it does turns out to be a bad idea," said Floyd, "we can always take the guns back again. Give 'em smiling throats to make sure they don't say anything to anyone." He patted his waist bag which contained, in addition to his gun, a Swiss army knife whose blade he'd sharpened until it was the equal of any military blade.
Danny nodded. "We'll do it, then," he said. "Let's get back to our cabin and break out the spares."