It was a suicide vest.
Luke shook his head. If he still needed confirmation, here it was. Frenchy was crazy.
“No, no,” Luke said. “Don’t do that. We’ll think of something.”
Frenchy slid his Uzi across the floor to Luke.
He smiled. “Boom,” he said.
“Frenchy! The boat is right there! All we have to do is make it across this dock, get in the boat, and escape. That’s all we have to do!”
Frenchy shook his head. The smile was still on his face, but now it looked very, very sad. “I don’t come here to escape. I come to kill Russians. For my brothers. And my father. And my people.”
“Frenchy!”
Frenchy pulled himself to his feet. “When boom comes, you go.” He gestured out at the speedboat. It had drifted with the swells into the dock. It kept slapping the side of the dock, drifting out a coup
