Chapter 8
Cash bent his head slightly to avoid the rotary blades as he ran over to the waiting helicopter and climbed in the front passenger seat.
"Did you get the map I sent you from the Port Authority?" he asked the pilot.
"Yes. We'll have enough fuel to go out about sixty miles and loop around this way," he pointed at the radar on the helicopter instrument panel that showed a widened view of the Pacific Ocean off the coast of the Cook Islands. "I heard the Port Authority is searching for disabled crafts in this area," he then pointed at spot in the opposite direction they were going.
"The Fair Maiden's last radio call-in put them about right here," Cash pointed to the map. "That was about 4:00 pm yesterday. Port Authority said the storm moved Northwest," he explained to the pilot, "and with the ocean current they could have been taken north or possibly east if they ran out of power. Port Authority is searching the northwest area of the islands, they had some SOS's from two other boats. They have priority to go assist them first, so if they are searching in that area, then I don't want to waste our time going in the same air space, I want to spread out."
The pilot nodded, knowing that's why he had been hired.
"It's a hundred-foot yacht you say?" he asked Cash.
He nodded.
"Shouldn't be hard to spot then, we'll find her," he said of his sister who he knew was onboard and the reason for the hire.
He nodded again, unable to verbally respond as tears filled his eyes and he turned away, looking out the passenger window as the helicopter left the ground.
If he lost Mandy he would be crushed, knowing his life would be changed forever, not sure he would be able to recover from it.
She had to be ok, he thought hopeful, she just had to be, but every second that ticked by with no response from them he felt more and more fearful. The Fair Maiden was soundly built but as the Captain of the Port Authority had tried to explain, the storm had quickly turned from a large squall to a category 2 Typhoon in less than nine hours. He had never seen anything like it before and when he pointed to the map where the last radio location had been called in from Captain Bordeaux, they were headed right for it.
He assured Cash that the Fair Maiden had been notified by the Port Authority of the coming storm at 12:46 am. They had continued to try and reach them every thirty minutes for the next five hours, but never got a response. He didn't say it outright but he did make the assumption that they might have taken on too much water, leaving Cash with the horrifying thought that they could have possibly capsized and sank.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked out on the island as they took off, seeing some blown over trees and minor damage to buildings here and there. Several boats in the dock were beat-up by high waves, but most of the storm had raged off shore to the relief of the island inhabitants, but to him it was still a major disaster.
His only source of comfort was that Steve and the others were onboard with her, hoping and praying they were still afloat.
…..
Steve slowly opened his eyes noticing one thing before any other, the sun shining through the windows and the blue skies. The storm was over.
He lifted his head and felt a tremendous pain in his skull, resting it back down again. He lifted his hand and touched the wound on his forehead, feeling a bandage over it.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened after he came up the stairs from sealing off the engine room, but he couldn't remember a thing.
His eyes suddenly flew open and he sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain. He glanced around at his surroundings searching for her.
The sliding glass doors to the outside were open and he rolled to his side off the layer of blankets that had been placed on the floor for his comfort, getting to his hands and knees.
"Mand…"he tried to shout, but his throat was too dry. He swallowed and tried again. "Mandy!" he said a little louder.
His heart raced over the thought of her being hurt as well or worse yet going overboard, not sure who had placed the bandage on his head. It could have been Frederick or even Bordeaux, but until he saw her face and knew that she was safe, the panic engulfing him was in control.
He pushed himself up to his knees, turning his head and yelling for her again.
"Mandy!"
He got to his feet, feeling unsteady as if the boat were still swaying. He staggered some, making his way over to the bar, using it for support. The strong smell of alcohol was in the air, seeing several broken bottles on the counter and floor behind the marble bar.
The last place he saw her was the bridge, feeling a wave of guilt over his promise to return that he never kept.
He staggered over to the glass doors, picturing her as he had last seen her, sitting in the corner in her yellow nightshirt, her hair plastered to her beautiful face and the terrified expression from their ordeal.
He paused and turned his head, hearing a commotion from the lower floor. He turned around and made his way over to the inner spiral staircase.
He came down the last step and looked down the hallway toward the engine room where he had been the night before. The hatch was wide open and a hose was coming out of it and into Parker's bedroom.
He braced his hands on the walls on either side of him for stability as he made his way down, needing answers from whoever was down there about Mandy's whereabouts, assuming it was Captain Bordeaux below.
He came to the hatch and knelt down and then lay down on his belly peering inside, not attempting to climb down in his condition, already feeling dizzy from just the short amount of time he'd been on his feet.
He could clearly hear someone down there and was about to yell out to them but paused, bracing himself for bad news about Mandy.
'Please,' he prayed silently, 'please let her be ok.' He'd never forgive himself if she weren't, having left her when she had begged him not to and then not to return to ensure her safety. It had been his job, but it had become much more than that too.
He opened his eyes and it was as if his prayer had been instantaneously answered. She was coming up the steps toward him.
"AH!" she shrieked, startled by the figure staring down at her as she came up. "You scared the hell out of me!" she scolded him. "What are you doing up and walking around?!" She shook her head irritably as she narrowed her eyes, examining the bandage she had placed on his forehead for traces of blood. "If you broke the glue seal on that wound, I'm going to thrash you."
He was so relieved to see her that he didn't pay attention to the reprimanding but instead reached down to her face that was only inches away and pulled her up and kissed her on the lips, holding her there for a few seconds longer to satisfy his happiness over her presence.
He finally let her go and she stared at him in shock.
"I didn't know what happened to you," he said almost breathless. "I thought you…" he didn't say it; there was no need to even think it now…she was right there, safe and sound.
She could hear the slight panic in his voice that was there simply because he had been afraid for her.
"I'm ok," she said in a gentler voice, flattered by his concern. She didn't say it but she had been equally frightened over his absence when she had awoken up in the bridge after passing out from sheer exhaustion after the storm. She had frantically searched the boat, finding him on the floor in the living room with blood all over his face. The overwhelming grief that engulfed her in those first few seconds when she thought he was dead was paralyzing, but when she touched his neck with unsteady fingers and felt a strong pulse, she was so overjoyed with happiness that she too kissed him.
"You're ok," he whispered, as if reassuring himself.
"How's your head?" she asked him.
He rolled over on his back, allowing her to climb up the rest of the way. "It hurts like hell."
She knelt down beside him, wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts and a black tank top, carefully lifting the bandage from over his wound, unaware of his eyes that focused on her.
"Do you feel nauseated at all?"
"No."
"Double vision? Do you remember what happened?"
"No and unfortunately yes," he sighed.
She looked back at him, thankful that he was there. She placed the bandage back in place and got to her feet, holding her hand out to him. "It looks ok," she said, "It's still sealed and you don't have any signs of a concussion."
He took her hand and moaned as she helped him to his feet.
"Where are the others," he asked, "Frederick and Bordeaux?"
"Frederick," she said as the smile faded, her expression becoming incredibly sad. "I can't find him. I searched the whole ship," her voice choked and tears filled her eyes as she spoke of his fate. "He's not here, Steve."
He looked down, feeling the same heartfelt loss for the man that had been so good to him. "Frederick," he whispered somberly, as if paying him homage.
Mandy sniffed and wiped away the tears from her eyes. "Bordeaux too," she said quietly.
He looked up, shocked over that. "He was with you. How?"
"I saw…" she paused, seeing the Captain's face again as he struggled to hang on. She looked up as she tried to hold back the tears. "I saw him go overboard. He went over," she said again and started to cry over the memory of the terrified look on his face.
Steve let out a breath and leaned into her, pulling her head down on his shoulder. He didn't know why Bordeaux would leave the safety of the enclosed control room, and didn't ask, not finding it to be necessary details right now. Mandy was obviously hurting and that was more important. He was deeply saddened for the two men, but at the same time, incredibly thankful that she wasn't with them.
"Do you think they could have survived the storm in the water?" she asked, hoping he said yes.
"I've heard of people falling overboard and surviving for days out in the water. Besides," he said hopeful, "they'll be lots of boats and planes out searching the waters after a storm like that."
She nodded against his shoulder, saying a silent prayer for the both of them.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't come back for you like I promised I would."
She leaned back away from him and wiped her eyes, "How could you? You were hurt. You probably saved my life by stopping the leak. I saw the water dripping from the conversion tank water valve. That's where the leak was, wasn't it?"
Steve nodded, "Yes."
"If you hadn't stopped it, we would have sunk for sure." She smiled at him, "So, I forgive you for not coming back."
He accepted that. He looked past her to the hatch and the hose coming out of it, following it into Parker's cabin.
"What do you got going on here?"
"I can't get the bilge pump to work, so I'm siphoning the water from the engine room out that cabin window. It's slow moving but it's working."
He raised an eyebrow at not only her working plan but the fact that she had the know how to do it. "You surprise me at every turn, Mandy."
She rolled her eyes at what she took as a compliment, but pleased by it. "It's not rocket science." She smiled shyly, "But I do have to be honest though, I read it once in a book."
"Shocking," he teased her. "Was that a textbook on physics maybe?"
"No!" she answered as she went past him to check the hose out the window. "It was from a mystery novel thank you very much." She stood on the bed and carefully lifted the hose to make sure it was still draining water. She came back out to the hallway with him. "Working like a charm. It won't get all the water out, but a lot of it."
"I feel like I'm in good hands. You're like Rosy Riveter. You get things done."
"Who?" she asked, and then recognized the name from the WWII poster of the woman with the red bandana who was the characterization of all women who had chipped in during WWII on the home front. "Oh right," she chuckled, displaying her muscle as in the pose on the poster. "That's me."
"Does that mean you're in charge now?" he smiled.
"Yes, and my first order is for you to go back and lay down for a while longer."
"Yes Ma'am," he replied, giving her a lazy salute.
She gripped him by the arm as they made their way down the hall to the stairs. She had put on a good face for him, but before seeing his she had been anything but calm, cool and collected. After getting his head fixed up, she searched the boat for Frederick and when it came up empty she went up to the highest point and screamed out his and Bordeaux's names, searching the water for them, but she saw no sign of either of them.
She sat down on the edge of one of the chairs and cried for their lost souls and for the fear of being alone and helpless until she had no more tears to shed.
It was then that her survival mode kicked in. There was no one to take care of her. If she wanted something done, she was going to have figure out a way to do it. The engine room was her first priority, the boat was sitting far too low in the water and it was due to the flooding of the engine room. The water had to be removed.
It took her close to three hours before she finally figured something out, but she had done it, all on her own.
Steve's compliment meant more to her than he knew, feeling quite pleased with herself over her accomplishment.
"Is there any more damage?" Steve asked as they came up the stairs and back into the living area.
"There was an explosion last night on the roof of the bridge," she explained as she held his arm while he sat back down on the bed she had made for him. "I think lightning struck something. I don't know what though. There is nothing working on the control panel."
Steve suddenly felt a throbbing in his head, laying back and putting and hand to his forehead.
"Are you ok?" she asked, nervously. Finding him alive and keeping him that way was one of the reasons she was in that survival mode.
"Yes," he sighed, "my head is killing me though."
She crawled over to a large white steel box with a red cross on top of it and opened it up. Several shelves appeared with a variety of medications, it also held two drawers with more supplies that included instructions and supplies to suture a wound. Medical glue had replaced the old-fashioned needle and thread and it was what she had used to seal the open cut on his forehead.
She handed him a packet that contained two aspirin.
"I'll get you some water."
She stood up and went behind the bar, carefully stepping over broken bottles of wine and liquor. She opened the fridge that had a latch on it and when she did, several plastic bottles of water came out as well as some cans of pop and juice.
"Here," she handed him the opened bottle of water.
"Thanks." He popped the aspirin in his mouth and took a long drink, downing half the water and then laid back on the soft pillows.
"Just sleep for a while, ok."
"I should get the binoculars and see if I can see Frederick and Bordeaux, maybe the current…"
"I already have," she replied, "several times."
He saw the sadness return to her face, deciding to avoid that subject going further. They needed to stay positive, always positive.
"Then I should at least check out any damage on the boat," he argued.
"And what, pass out while doing so and fall over the edge? I don't think so. You're staying put. The skies are clear and like you said, they will be looking for us anyway. So more than likely help will be here before you know it."
He couldn't argue her logic, she was right, they would be looking for them and how could they possibly not spot a hundred-foot yacht.
"Ok," he caved, feeling exhausted already from just the short time he was awake. He wouldn't be any good to her like this. He needed just a few more hours, he thought. "I'll stay put, but just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't take any unnecessary risks. Like you said, they'll be coming for us so all we have to do is sit tight."
She nodded in agreement. "I won't. I'm too focused on getting the water out from below." She looked out toward the open sliding glass doors, staring at the ocean off the bow of the boat. "I hope they find Frederick," she said sadly, "and Captain Bordeaux."
She looked back at him and he nodded in agreement. Death and sudden loss of life was not something he was naïve' too, but it was still painful nonetheless. He reached out for her, putting a hand on her back.
"Never give up, Mandy," he said compassionately and then more firmly. "You didn't and we're still here."
She smiled down at him and stood up. "Get some rest. I'll be back in a while."
He watched her go to the steps and down; hoping she did know and believed in it and herself because it was the number one thing for survival, never give up, ever! What he had seen from her so far was above and beyond what he imagined she'd be capable of.
She was a fighter and at that moment it's what he respected most about her.
…
Steve woke up in the dark but smelled something delicious that made his stomach growl.
He lifted his head, but felt none of the pain that he had before. The only discomfort came from his belly that was empty and wanted to be full.
The sleep had done him well, wondering how long he had slept for? He glanced at his watch but it wasn't there, and then remembered that he always took it off before bed, and when the storm had hit, putting his watch on had been the last thing on his mind.
He sat up and saw Mandy sitting at what was left of the dining room table on the outer deck. Of the twelve chairs that had once been part of the set, only three remained. She sat at one, looking out toward the ocean as the moonlight and thousands of stars above shown down on her.
It was so quiet. The only sounds came from the gentle lapping of the water against the boat. It was peaceful and very much welcomed after coming off the night before. He stood up and was pleased not to feel any dizziness that he had earlier.
He walked toward her and she turned, hearing his footsteps.
"Hey, how do you feel?"
Her beauty that could stop him in his tracks struck him again.
"Steve?" she said again when he didn't answer, wondering if she had been wrong about the concussion. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," he finally answered, coming over to the table and seeing a plate of something on it but couldn't tell exactly what it was in the dark. "That smells really good, what is it?"
"It's filet mignon. I think from our dinner last night. I couldn't get the stove to light so I used the canned flames that are used under the chaffing dishes to cook them. Are you hungry?"
"I'm starved."
She pulled over the extra plate she had brought up from the galley for him in case he had woken in time to eat. She lifted the lid, showing a good size portion of filet mignon that had been butterflied so it would cook faster.
"It might not be very hot anymore and it's medium rare. Do you want me to go down and cook it some more?"
"No," he replied, his mouth watering. "It's fine just like this. Thank you."
"I hope you don't mind eating in the dark. I turned all the lights off to save energy on the generator. The only things running are the flashing emergency light and the refrigerator."
"Smart thinking."
He sat down and used the knife and fork she'd given him and cut off a generous piece, not realizing how hungry he was until he was seated in front of a plate of food.
She smiled as he took a bite and then closed his eyes.
"Mmm, Mandy, Mandy," he said with a mouthful of steak as if in ecstasy, "you are an amazing woman." He chewed a couple of times and swallowed, opening his eyes and looking at her. "Do you know that?"
"I really didn't do anything," she replied shyly.
"You bandaged me up, bailed out the engine room and managed to cook filet mignon all in the same day. That's pretty amazing in my book."
She shrugged but he caught her beautiful smile as she turned her head away.
"Tomorrow I'll try and do my part by climbing up on the roof of the bridge and see if I can repair some of the damage done."
"I thought maybe we'd be rescued by now," she said.
He stopped in the middle of cutting another piece of his steak, hearing a hint of fear in her voice.
"We probably blew off course in the storm since we didn't have power, but we couldn't have strayed that far. It might be a couple of days though before they find us."
That didn't seem to make her feel any better.
"Hey," he said, getting her attention as she looked over at him. "We need to keep a positive outlook." He spread his hands out showing off his dinner. "I mean, it could be a hell of a lot worse. We have shelter, plenty of water and food."
She looked over at him with a somber expression, "You're right, it could be worse, we could have ended up overboard like the Captain and…" her voice broke as she tried to say Frederick's name. She put her hand up to her face as the tears erupted. "I was sitting here and looking out there at the dark water and…" she choked on her words, "I thought how terrified I would be to be out there all alone." She looked up at him as the tears fell. "Or here, all alone."
He moved his chair closer to her, "You're not alone. I'm here, and I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I know I promised you before that I would come back and I didn't, but I swear to you Mandy on my life that I will not leave you and I'll do everything in my power to protect you. I swear it."
"I don't want to sleep in my cabin," she confessed. "I'm afraid to be inside after last night. I want to sleep out here, will you sleep out here too?" she asked, hoping he said yes and wouldn't try to persuade her to sleep inside.
"Sure. We can sleep on the loungers if you want. Is it the weather you're afraid of?"
She nodded, "Yes, but I just don't want to be alone either. Maybe we can just sleep on the floor in the living room tonight."
"Whatever you want."
"Thank you, Steve."
"Sure, sure," he said soothingly, putting a hand on her shoulder and letting it glide down her back. "We'll be ok, Mandy."
She laid her head on his shoulder as he caressed her hair. "Cash must be worried sick; I know I would be going out of my mind if he were lost."
"And wouldn't you do everything in your power to find him?"
She lifted her head, "Yes! I would search night and day."
He smiled at her, "And so will he."
That made her feel so much better. "And maybe they found Frederick and the Captain already?"
Steve nodded, "That could very well be true. Don't ever give up hope, Mandy. You have to hang on to that even when you feel that it might be hopeless."
"I'm trying."
"I know you are," he kissed her temple. "I know you are."
…..
After dinner Mandy replaced the bandage on his head with a smaller one that covered just the wound.
They slept on the loungers but had pulled them inside the living room area where it was warmer.
Mandy lay on her side once they were tucked in, looking over at him. His backrest was up so he could look out.
"Are you not tired?" she asked him.
"I am but I slept a lot today." He looked over at her. "You must be exhausted."
She smiled sleepily, "I am."
"Did you sleep at all last night?"
She shook her head, "Not really. I remember after the storm passed and things began to settle down, I dozed off, but it wasn't because I wanted to, I was just exhausted. When I woke up the sun was shining and I was still holding on to the railing with both hands."
That was the sweet side of the story, she didn't tell him the horror side of the hours that she sat there, screaming out in terror as the boat swayed heavily back and forth, waiting for it to capsize and either kill her then or pull her out to the dark ocean to drown her. She was still amazed that he had survived in this room while being unconscious. He must have rolled about; there was no way he couldn't have. It was astounding but they both only had slight cuts and bruises on their bodies, but nothing broken and nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days.
Her chair was only inches away from his and he laid his down so they were even, lying on his side, facing her. "You'll sleep well tonight," he assured her.
She wiggled her hand out from underneath her blanket and reached out for his that was lying on the edge.
He was a little taken back when she gripped onto it and then closed her eyes. He didn't even think about resisting, if she needed this for security then he'd lay in that same position all night to give her the comfort she needed.
He watched as she drifted off to sleep, pleased over it. It was a few minutes later that she moved slightly and he instinctively griped her hand, not wanting her to withdraw it in her sleep. He realized then that he too received comfort by the embrace, surprising himself.
He thought about Cash searching for them, wondering if Danny and Chin or Kono knew of his disappearance. He had listed Danny as a contact on one of the forms he had filled out for Gordon, wondering if he had contacted him or not. He hoped so, because if Mandy had Cash and he had Danny, then he felt strongly that their rescue was imminent.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep with that positive thought resting in his head.
….
Danny came out of the terminal of Rarotonga airport and set down his duffel bag, looking around as he heard his name in the opposite direction. He turned and saw a blond man coming toward him wearing a wrinkled dark blue shirt and equally wrinkled tan shorts.
"Danny Williams?" Cash asked as he approached him.
"Yea that's me," Danny replied, holding his hand out, "Cash McKay?"
"Yes," he shook his hand, "how was your flight?"
"Quick," Danny said, "Thanks for the lift."
"No problem. If you would have flown commercial it would have taken two days."
Danny picked up his duffle bag, "Any news?"
Cash shook his head, feeling that nauseated feeling in stomach return. "No. My father should arrive in about an hour, so if you don't mind waiting a little longer, I can fill you in on what I know so far."
"Ok, sounds good."
They went back inside the airport and walked over to a bar that was close to the area of the small airport where the private jets taxied up.
Danny ordered an ice water and Cash a club soda, neither in the mood for alcohol, wanting to be 100% alert in case some news did come in.
"I booked the helicopter again for tomorrow morning," Cash said. He pulled his phone out and brought up a map on it as the two men scooted their chairs closer so they could both see it.
"This is where I went this morning." He pointed to an area on the map and was explaining to Danny why when he looked up, seeing Bryce standing at his table. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to LA with the girls?"
"No," he replied, "Of course not. I'm not leaving until Mandy is found. I spoke to your father. I wanted to be here when he lands. I want you to know, Cash that you can count on me for anything. I'll do whatever it takes to help the search."
"Help me find another helicopter then, hell, I'll buy one if I have to. We need to expand the search area."
"I can do that," Bryce replied. "We'll find her."
"If Steve was on board," Danny assured him, "he'll watch out for her."
"The security guy?" Bryce huffed, "He's probably behind all this somehow. I told you not to trust him, Cash. I hope she's not alone with just him."
Danny pushed his chair back and stood up; his teeth clenched and his hands bound into fists. "I don't know who the hell you are, but if you say one more offensive word about Steve McGarrett, I'm going to drop you like a sack of dirt."
Bryce leaned back and looked at him stunned, feeling a little nauseous over the deadly stare from the stranger.
"Bryce," Cash said, motioning to Danny with a slight grin, "I'd like you to meet Detective Danny Williams, Steve's partner from Hawaii."
Bryce swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat over the threat that was as credible as any he had ever received.
"Oh," was his only reply.
"Oh?" Danny mocked him, "And who the fuck are you to be talking shit about my friend? If they are together, Steve is probably her best chance of survival right now."
"I agree," Cash added. "I don't need any of your shit right now, Bryce. If you want to help then help, but otherwise I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
Bryce looked back over at Danny who hadn't flinched. He took a step back to get out of at least arm's length. "My apologies," he said. "I think I'll just go wait by the gate for your father's plane to land."
"Good idea," Danny said to him.
Bryce took another step back and then turned and quickly walked away.
"Who the hell is that prick?" Danny asked as he sat back down.
"He's nobody," Cash assured him and then smiled for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun. "I can see why you two get along so well. I mean you and Steve. You don't take shit from anyone and neither does he."
"He's a good guy," Danny said. "In fact, he's a great guy and he would never do anything to put anyone in harm's way. It's against his nature."
"You don't have to convince me of that," Cash agreed, recalling the shark incident. "I just hope they're ok," he sighed, feeling that horrible pain in the pit of his stomach over the possibility of losing Mandy.
"Hey," Danny said, seeing his expression change and understanding what he was feeling. His sister was out there missing, but so was his brother, but unlike Cash, he had more faith in Steve's survival skills than anyone else, "listen to me. I know Steve, he's stubborn as hell and you have to believe me when I say that he will go through hell and back to protect your sister, and that even goes for risking his own life. If he's with her, which I'm sure he is, then she's safe and sound until we find them."
Cash looked over at him and nodded with an appreciative grin. "Thanks, Danny. I do trust him and it's good to have it reinforced by someone who really knows him."
Danny patted him on the back, "We'll find them. Steve is too goddamn stubborn to die, and he never leaves a man behind."
….
Cash met his father's private jet on the tarmac of the Rarotonga airport. He waited impatiently, wiping the sweat off his upper lip that was caused more from stress over his missing sister than the humid weather. The plane door opened and folded down turning into steps.
He was a little shocked that his father wasn't already at the door. He assumed he would be impatient to get off and learn the news of his only daughter's disappearance.
He waited another ten seconds and then ran up the steps and inside, seeing him still seated in one of the light brown leather captains' chairs, talking on the phone.
"Dad," he asked. "Is that about Mandy?"
He raised his finger for him to wait and continued the one-sided conversation.
It didn't take Cash long to realize that it had nothing to do with his sister's disappearance but was a business call.
"You son of a bitch!" he yelled, turning on his heal and storming down the steps. He got half way to the terminal when he heard his name being shouted.
"Cash!" Peter yelled standing on the top step of the stairs. "Cash! I'm talking to you!"
"Work before anything else, right, Pop?" he shouted back. "Just get back on the plane and go home. I'll take care of Mandy just like I always have."
Peter McKay came down the steps and followed after his son, but not hurrying enough to catch up with him.
Cash walked past Danny as he came back inside the terminal, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at the man approaching that was wearing a suit and tie, "My so called father, the fucking asshole. Let's get out of here. He can get his own ride to the hotel."