This is my J&C adaptation of Susan Sizemore’s novel, "His Last Best Hope"

Chloe huddled even farther into the corner of the small "head." She had covered her ears with her hands when she heard the shots, followed by the heart-wrenching screams of her aunt and uncle.

{This isn’t some second-rate bodice ripper, Chloe! It’s not the 18^th Century! This is real, and Aunt Gertrude and Uncle Herbert are dead…..and you’ll probably be next.}

As she dared to uncover her ears, Chloe realized that it was just a matter of time before the modern-day pirates started exploring the rest of Uncle Herbert’s small yacht. The day had started so wonderfully – she had shared breakfast with her aunt and uncle on the deck, watching the radiant colors of the sun bounce back off the brilliant blue water of the Caribbean. Chloe had decided that Aunt Gertrude had been right – this cruise was just what she needed to recover from the heartbreak Ned had caused her in the past few months.

She lowered the lid of the toilet soundlessly and then sat down, stuffing her knuckle in her mouth to keep her sobs as quiet as possible. If they only had known that just a few hours after that, a small boat would appear on the horizon. Uncle Herbert had assumed it was another pleasure craft and when it appeared to be drifting aimlessly in the water, his good Samaritan nature inspired him to set a course so that they could offer their assistance. When they got close enough to see some of the men on board the smaller craft, Aunt Gertrude had hustled Chloe below decks to the bathroom as quickly as possible. Tears flowed down Chloe’s cheeks as she realized that her aunt’s foresight had saved her life.

A loud noise above her caused Chloe to jump to her feet. Saved her life – at least for now. She looked around the "head" and knew that staying inside was a sure prescription for disaster. Perhaps the pirates were so busy exploring the other parts of the boat looking for valuables that she could sneak into the bedroom her aunt and uncle had occupied. Then, if she could manage to slip out one of the small doors and up a side ladder, she could jump over the side and tread water until the pirates left. After all, surely they wouldn’t take both boats……

Chloe’s planning was cut short when she heard a low roar coming from outside. {*Another* boat? Good grief, are they having a criminal slumber party or something?} She felt the boat sway slightly in the wake caused when the second craft cut its engine. Then, she caught her breath when she heard the echo of more footsteps above her.

"Pantera!!" It was the first time Chloe had heard any voices clearly. She wasn’t sure if the speaker was one of the men who had murdered her aunt and uncle or one of the new arrivals. One thing she did know – the owner of the voice was obviously respectful of this "Pantera" person – and maybe even a little afraid.

"Faison." The second voice she heard was much different than the first. It didn’t have the Spanish accent that she had grown so accustomed to during the past few days. There was an accent, but it was more English in nature. Yet the voice was assertive and confident. "Just what the bloody h*ll do you think you’re doing here?"

"He’s jealous!" {It’s the first guy again. Was that his name? Faison?} There was raucous laughter and then the pirate/murderer spoke again. "El Pantera is jealous because he got here too late to claim any spoils for himself!" Chloe heard the sarcasm dripping from Faison’s voice. "Although, I’m not sure that there would be anything here you would find valuable, Pantera." His laugh sent shivers down Chloe’s spine. "I seriously doubt that the doddering old man and woman who *used* to own this boat were carrying any guns or illegal drugs!"

"You’re right, Faison," the second man replied in a threatening voice. {The English guy – the one the murderer calls "El Pantera."} "I’m wasting my time here. Cassidine’s expecting me with a shipment, and you know how he hates to be kept waiting."

The voice Chloe identified as Faison laughed again. "Do you think I give a rat’s @ss if Cassidine is upset?" Chloe heard footsteps above her as Faison must have been pacing around the deck. "In fact, although this wasn’t exactly part of my plan, your presence here may not be such a bad thing after all, Pantera."

"What are you getting at, Faison?"

Another evil chuckle. "Well, now that I’ve got myself a larger boat, I just may need to relieve you of some of that cargo you were taking to Cassidine. It would be a shame to let all this wonderful storage space go unused, don’t you think, Pantera? And I just *happen* to have some contacts that wouldn’t mind dealing with me instead of Cassidine."

"You’re an even bigger fool than I thought, Faison." Pantera’s voice was full of condescending contempt. "You won’t live long enough to enjoy the money you get from selling this stuff once Cassidine finds out you’re cutting in on his action."

"You’ll never live long enough to tell him about our little encounter today, Pantera," Faison growled. "Corinthos has a price on your head."

Chloe caught her breath again when she heard the click of guns being cocked. There were slow footsteps, and then Pantera spoke again. "And are you telling me that you’re collecting it?"

There were a few moments of awful silence, and then a third voice shouted, "Pantera! Behind you!" Chloe covered her ears again as gunshots rang out over the serene Caribbean. {This has to be some kind of nightmare. I’ll wake up soon, and it’ll be morning, and Aunt Gertrude will be calling me to breakfast on deck….}

The quiet came more quickly this time, but then it was broken by the low roar of a boat’s engine. There were more shouts and then Chloe heard the third man again. "Faison is getting away, Pantera! Do you want us to follow?"

"No. Let Cassidine deal with him. When he finds out Faison has designs on his empire, it won’t be pretty." Chloe heard low chuckles of agreement and then the man called Pantera growled some commands in guttural Spanish that she didn’t understand.

{This is your chance, Chloe. Maybe while they’re all busy looking around on deck, you can still make a run for it. That horrible Faison man sounds like he’s gone. Maybe this Pantera guy won’t even stick around – he might just leave in a hurry if he’s really got a price on his head…..}

Chloe slowly and quietly unlocked the door of the "head" and slipped out into the hallway. She crept towards her aunt and uncle’s bedroom, carefully listening for any signs that someone was coming below deck. When she grabbed the knob, turned it to let herself in, and then locked the door behind her, she heaved a sigh of relief. {So far, so good.}

She was tiptoeing across the bedroom when she heard the noise and froze in her tracks. There were loud splashes – and Chloe instinctively knew what had made the sound. The new pirates were throwing her aunt and uncle’s bodies overboard. Nausea gripped her but Chloe took deep, calming breaths, trying to keep her head. As she made her way to the door of the cabin leading to the deck, she caught sight of herself in the small mirror of her aunt’s dresser.

{Geez, Chloe – take a look at yourself. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what every modern young lady wears when pirates hijack, pillage, and murder her family.} After having breakfast with her aunt and uncle, Chloe had gone below deck and changed into a tomato red bikini. Aunt Gertrude had admonished her several times that she needed color – that a good tan and some rest would erase the lines around her eyes that sleepless nights caused. She had been working on her tan when Uncle Herbert set course towards the small craft and the criminals that eventually robbed him of his life. Aunt Gertrude had been so insistent on her hiding below deck that Chloe hadn’t even had time to grab a towel.

Chloe considered going through Aunt Gertrude’s dresser for some kind of blouse to protect her from the strong rays of the sun. But then, she heard sounds of footsteps on the stairs leading down from the deck, and she abandoned her plan. She sprinted towards the door and was already through it and in another corridor by the time a man came into Herbert and Gertrude’s bedroom.

She took the steps to the upper deck two at a time, anxious to put as much distance as possible from herself and the man she heard behind her. The hot midday sun felt good on Chloe’s skin, but she didn’t take the time to appreciate it as she flattened her body against the side of a bulkhead. When she finally had the courage to peek up over the top, she got a glimpse of some of the men who had murdered her aunt and uncle.

{Well, maybe it’s not the murderers, though…..it sounded like that first guy, Faison, killed Uncle Herbert and Aunt Gertrude. But these guys don’t exactly sound like the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, either. What was it Faison said about their leader? Guns and illegal drugs?}

As Chloe watched, several men in tank tops and blue jeans moved briskly around the boat. They were opening hatches, obviously searching for something of value before they left. When Chloe looked beyond the men, she could see the sails of another boat – a sleek schooner that was larger than Uncle Herbert’s boat by about a half.

{You’re OK here, Chloe. You can just stay here, and pretty soon they’ll get tired of looking around. Then when they decide to get back on their own boat, you can just wait until they’re out of sight, and then try to figure out how the heck to get this thing back to port…….}

But Chloe’s plans were dashed again when she heard a noise in the hallway she had just exited. Obviously, the man who had gone into Uncle Herbert and Aunt Gertrude’s room found the door she used for her escape. If she stayed where she was, he’d find her in about ten seconds. She looked around frantically, and then, taking a deep breath, she decided that her initial plan to go into the water was her only chance.

She peeked up over the bulkhead again and when she was sure that most of the men appeared to be occupied, she dashed as silently as she could for the side of the boat. Chloe had never prayed so hard in her life, but just as she grabbed the side rail and put one foot up to heave herself overboard, she heard a hissing sound. There was a gentle breeze next to her thigh and then a loud "thunk" as a knife landed next to her foot. The seven-inch blade dug into the wood of the rail about two inches from her toes, and the handle still quivered with the force with which it was thrown.

Adrenaline surged through Chloe’s veins and she grabbed for the handle. At least, if she had to die, she would die fighting. She spun around, knife in hand, to face her attackers, but then shrieked aloud when the knife when flying from her hand and clattered to the deck. When she looked up to see who had kicked it away from her, Chloe’s blood froze. It had to be him – El Pantera.

Backlit by the noonday sun, he almost became part of it. A furious, powerful golden god of a man, with thick hair that had been kissed by that fiery furnace for so long it rivaled the color. He was tall – over six feet – and he stood with legs spread and arms akimbo, daring Chloe to make a move. The blue jeans he wore almost seemed like a second skin, clinging to his thighs, riding low on his hips, and fitting with almost indecent snugness around his crotch. He wore no shirt, and the sweat glistened on his muscled chest as it ran downwards to disappear into the jeans. A black shoulder holster held a lethal-looking handgun, and as she flinched, his hand reached up to grab the butt of it.

El Pantera. The Panther. Whoever had come up with the nickname was good at describing people. The man moved with catlike grace and swiftness. When Chloe froze again, he reached down in a heartbeat and picked up the knife, re-sheathing it in a scabbard on his right hip. He came closer to her, and she could see his features better without the sun glaring in her eyes. If she hadn’t been so afraid that he was about to slit her throat, Chloe might have actually thought he was handsome. His well-defined cheekbones and the cleft in his chin gave his face character. But it was his eyes that hypnotized Chloe. They were the same color as the Caribbean – a shifting palate of blues and greens. Maybe he had sprung from the sea, like some kind of god.

He was standing so close to Chloe that she could see his eyes as they moved leisurely over her body, taking inventory of her assets that were displayed for the world in the red bikini. It didn’t take long for the rest of his crew to do the same, and Chloe was snapped back to reality by the gruff catcalls and lewd whistles that came from behind El Pantera. "Ahhh, Faison has gone so El Pantera finds the real treasure! Now we ALL enjoy the spoils of the victor!!"

Chloe felt the blush creeping up from her toes and knew that her cheeks were probably turning the same color as her bikini at their lecherous suggestions. When she shifted her weight towards the rail again, El Pantera’s right hand snaked out and locked around her left forearm like a manacle.

"The party for you will come when we reach Montserrat," Pantera growled to his drooling crew. "Women for everyone – my treat." His eyes locked with Chloe’s and despite her resolve not to let him see her fear, she whimpered softly. "This one is mine."

Something snapped inside of Chloe at his words. She had never been that vocal of a women’s rights advocate, but his insinuation raised her hackles just enough to put a spark of gutsy defiance in her eyes. "Yours?" she hissed through gritted teeth, trying to yank her arm free. "Go to h*ll!"

But El Pantera just gripped her tighter and pulled her against his chest, to the delight of his crew. "I’m afraid I can’t oblige you there, love!" he murmured in a low tone. "We’re already there!!"

Before she could say a word, he stepped back and then pulled her behind him as he made his way through the jeering crew towards the stairs to the lower deck. Chloe tried to dig her bare toes into the deck to prevent their progress, but it was futile. He was just so much stronger than she was. There were more shouted salacious suggestions that brought tears to her eyes, but as El Pantera pulled her into the darkened corridor with him, she used her free hand to wipe briskly at her eyes. She’d be d*mned before she let this animal see her cry.

When they reached the hallway leading to the area where the bedrooms were, he stopped. "Which one is yours?" he asked, inclining his head towards the rooms.

Chloe yanked her arm again but he held fast. "Does it make a difference?" she snarled, but then when he squeezed her arm again she grimaced and conceded. "That one," she whispered, indicating the room to the left.

He silently went to the door and opened it, shoving Chloe inside with one movement. By the time she had regained her balance, he had closed the door behind them and locked it. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something to use as a weapon or another means of escape. There were no other doors, but there was a comb lying on the dresser that only had teeth halfway down and a long handle that could serve as a crude dagger.

He read her mind. El Pantera was at her side before she could draw another breath. "Don’t even think about it, love," he crooned. Chloe cringed at the endearment as his hand went to the hilt of the dagger again. "You’d never be able to hurt me as much as I could hurt you in return." Chloe’s chin remained at a defiant tilt but he could see her bravado faded. "Good," he murmured, moving away again. He strolled towards the dresser and opened a few drawers, rummaging through them. After a quick search, he spun around and threw a pair of shorts and an old, faded t-shirt at her. "Put these on."

Chloe was trying her hardest to ignore his command, but when a pair of canvas shoes landed with a loud "thunk" at her feet, she jumped. She had almost expected it to be the knife again, a punishment for her delay in obeying him. But when she folded her arms and still refused to comply with his directive, El Pantera came back to stand a hair’s breadth away from her. "I said," he muttered in a grim voice, "put those on!"

She returned his glare, finding the inner strength somehow to defy him. "Why? So you can get some kind of perverted thrill later? When you rip them off me?"

Pantera’s in-drawn breath was deep as he shook with the effort to control his temper. But before he could reply, another loud "splash" echoed from outside. Chloe shuddered and couldn’t help but look over her shoulder towards the porthole. Tears burned her eyes.

He put a hand to her chin to turn Chloe’s face back to his. "Were those your parents?"

"What difference would it make? Why do you care?" Chloe regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. His grip on her chin tightened and he came so close that the tips of her bikini-clad breasts brushed against his bare chest.

"Let’s get something straight right now, love," Pantera hissed. "You’re only still alive thanks to my ……. good graces. An inch to the side and that knife could have pinned your foot to rail up on deck." Chloe tried to turn away but he caught her shoulders in his hands, forcing her to face him. "I could have let the crew have you, or even called Faison’s ship back and given you to him. I still could, for that matter." He paused, letting the truth of his words sink in. "I didn’t murder those people," he whispered, his voice surprising Chloe when it took on a much softer tone. "Faison did."

"My aunt and uncle." Chloe was almost as shocked as Pantera when the admission came out freely on a whisper.

Pantera relaxed his grip on her shoulders. "Good. Much better." Then he pulled her against him again, causing Chloe to catch her breath. "From now on, when I ask a question, you answer it. When I give an order, you obey it. No questions asked." She closed her eyes but he squeezed her shoulders even harder. "Understood?"

Chloe nodded once. Pantera released her shoulders but didn’t move away from her. "What’s your name?"

She swallowed hard. "Chloe. Chloe Morgan."

"What was your craft doing in these waters?"

"We……" The tears came again as Chloe remembered her Aunt Gertrude pleading with her to come along on the cruise. The cruise that was going to be a relaxing holiday for all of them – a chance to spend quality time together. A chance for Chloe to get over Ned breaking her heart. "We……we were on a pleasure cruise ….. out of Miami. Just drifting around the islands without any real destination. My aunt and uncle like to….." Her voice caught on a sob. "…….*used* to like to just spend time in the tropics fishing and soaking up the sun."

Pantera turned and strode away from her, running his fingers through his hair. "They should have known better, then." He turned back to Chloe, his hands on his hips. "Things have changed in the waters around Montserrat. The island has changed. A lot of unsavory characters use it as a home base now."

Chloe lifted her chin, clutching the clothing to her chest. "Unsavory characters? You mean gun runners and drug dealers, like you?"

Pantera inhaled sharply, his eyes flaring. "I told you that *I* would be the one asking the questions." He let out a long breath and nodded towards her clothing again. "Now put those on. We need to get going."

Chloe stared into his eyes for a minute, but then her body relaxed. She looked down at the floor but then raised her eyes to meet Pantera’s gaze. "I suppose since *you’re* the only one allowed to ask questions, I couldn’t suggest that you allow me some privacy to change?"

There was a pause, but then he gave her a half-smile that touched something inside and made Chloe feel warm and liquid. "My mother *did* raise me to be a gentleman." He turned his back where he stood. "This is the best I can do, under the circumstances."

"It’s better than nothing." There was a rustling sound as Chloe quickly began shedding her bikini and slipping on the t-shirt. She wished that the change in wardrobe had included a bra, but thanked God when she found that Pantera had at least had the decency to include a pair of panties. She was slipping into the pair of shoes when she spoke again. "I suppose it would be against your rules for me to know your name." She saw his shoulders tense at her words. "I mean, I heard that other guy call you El Pantera, but it’s a little awkward."

There was a long pause, and then he took a deep breath. "Jax. You can call me Jax."

***********************

{D*mnit!}

As Jax stood with his back to the beautiful blonde, he swore subconsciously, using words that would have made even a black-hearted demon like Faison blush.

{This is *just* what you didn’t need right now, Jax. You were so close. You could have met with Cassidine after this run, found out the name of the leak in Naval Intelligence, and then gone back to the States for good. The case would have been closed, and you wouldn’t have to live like this anymore.}

He crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. Jax had to admit to himself that as far as undercover assignments went, this one really wasn’t that bad. He loved being on the sea, and after being considered the "golden child" all his life, playing the part of a gun-running, modern-day pirate was a hoot and a half.

If Faison just hadn’t gotten greedy and involved civilians. Jax had a bad feeling about Faison ever since meeting him on Montserrat, but he thought that Cassidine had put enough fear into him to keep him under control. Obviously, that wasn’t the case any longer. So now, besides having a price on his head thanks to a misunderstanding with Corinthos, he had to deal with a half-cocked, criminal-kingpin-wanna-be in the person of Faison.

Jax heard the noises behind him and shifted his weight, trying to keep his thoughts on business. She was beautiful, alright. And in that red bikini, it took all of his intestinal fortitude not to make good on his rep and pull her into his arms to taste full lips. That’s why he knew that the first order of business was to get some clothes on her. Miss Chloe Morgan was going to be enough of a distraction to him, even fully clothed. He didn’t need her barely-covered breasts on display right beneath his nose.

{You don’t have a choice, man. You can’t let her go. El Pantera wouldn’t do something like that. You can’t blow your cover just because some feeble-minded old man couldn’t read the sea charts and sailed into dangerous waters. You’ll have to take her with you. El Pantera would. Act like she’s "your woman" until you can land at Montserrat and get her to safety. That’s it – take her to Padre Tomas on Montserrat. He’ll get her back to the States. But until then……}

Jax heard the noise behind him cease. When he turned around, Chloe was standing meekly in the center of the room. He groaned inwardly at his stupidity for not finding a bra for her in the dresser. But when he glanced towards the porthole and saw the angle of the sun, he knew their time was running out.

"Good." Jax walked over and grasped Chloe’s hand, pulling her with him towards the door of the cabin. "Let’s go."

She hung back but again, he was too strong for her. "Go? Where are we going?"

Jax opened the door to the hallway. He turned back to her and gave her a smile and a half bow. "We’re going to Montserrat, Chloe Morgan."

"Montserrat? But you said it’s dangerous there! You said there are drug dealers and convicts and all kinds of low life there!"

Jax dragged her down the hallway towards the steps to the top deck. He paused again at the foot of the steps to turn back to her. "You won’t have to worry." His eyes traveled up and down her form again, making Chloe feel even less clothed than she did when she was wearing the bikini. "Nobody touches El Pantera’s woman and lives to tell about it."

To be continued…….