“Not until we are back at the cove,” Hawke shot back. He was still looking ahead.

Kannaday felt as if he’d been hit by a swinging spar. Hawke had defied him in front of the crew. The security officer had embarrassed him in front of the Malaysians, who were watching with night-vision glasses from the deck of their vessel. They would carry word to their boss, who would relay it to Darling. Kannaday’s brain, spirit, and flesh were all affected by a disorienting sense of humiliation. Reason left him. His ego winked off, then came back like a nova. His flesh grew hot and prickly. Kannaday felt as though the dignity had been baked from him. He wanted it back. He had considered the possibility that Hawke would refuse the order. But he had not imagined exactly how it would feel.

Nonetheless, there was only one thing for Kannaday to do.

Without hesitation, Kannaday reached for the back of the security officer. He placed a strong hand on each of the man’s shoulders. He did not grab just the fabric of Hawke’s sweater. His fingers dug deep, wrapping tightly around the meat of the man’s shoulders. Kannaday took a long step back, pulling Hawke with him. The captain immediately turned and dipped and slammed Hawke onto the deck. The security chief lay on his back. He whipped the wommera from his sash and pointed the blade up. Kannaday wanted to drop on the man’s chest and pound him senseless. But he forced himself to step back. Kannaday did not want to give Hawke the opportunity to kill him in self-defense.

Hawke rose quickly. “You bloody bastard! No one puts his hands on me! No one!”

The men were less than ten feet apart. Hawke walked forward slowly, holding the blade waist high. The captain stood firmly on the gently rolling deck. His legs were wide and his fists were low at his sides. His eyes were on Hawke, who was now walking into the light.

There was no going back.

“Come at me again, damn you!” Hawke said.

“Back off, Hawke. You disobeyed an order!”

“You’re not fit to give them!” Hawke said.

“Then relieve me of my command, Mr. Hawke.”

The launch was loaded but did not lower into the water. The crew had stopped working. Everyone was watching the altercation between the captain and the security officer.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” Kannaday said. He stepped forward, took the wommera blade, and placed it against his heart. “Use it!”

Hawke glared at the captain. Kannaday did not know what the security officer would do. It was not as if the authorities of any nation or maritime group would care that a smuggler had mutinied.

Hawke pushed the tip through Kannaday’s shirt. He continued to drive it forward. Kannaday knew he could not back down. Not with everyone watching. Not after he had given Hawke this opportunity.