BROCK GAZED at the unconscious woman Kyle had carried into the yacht’s main cabin. She didn’t look like much, he thought. Slim. Blonde. How could one woman have caused so much trouble?
“The ether should wear off in about ten minutes,” Kyle said.
Ether, the forgotten drug, Brock thought. Once it had been the anesthetic of choice for hospitals doing surgery, but it had been replaced by newer medications. He’d found it handy over the years. It could be carried in a small vial and poured onto a washcloth to sedate someone in a matter of seconds.
Kyle had carried the bitch here, pretending she was drunk and needed help getting back to their boat. Luck was with them once again. Kyle hadn’t met anyone as he’d hauled her to the yacht.
“Did you check her purse to see if the disk was in it?” Brock asked.
“It wasn’t there. You don’t honestly think she’d walk around with it in her bag, do you?”
Brock shrugged. “With women, you never know.”
The woman moaned almost inaudibly. Brock leaned forward. This bitch had been nothing but trouble since the first day he’d been introduced to her at PowerTec. His gut instinct had told him then this bitch would cause endless problems.
How right he’d been.
Too bad Cassidy and Olofson hadn’t listened to him. No. They’d waited until the FBI called in an agent to check out their books before they believed him.
He should have gotten credit for figuring it out, but no. He’d suffered endless blame for the problems this woman had caused. He was going to relish every minute this bitch suffered.
Devon blinked and the world around her whirled. She closed her eyes again, willing her brain to make things level. Where was she?
Her office. The man with the spiked hair.
She sat bolt upright. The spiked hair guy was gazing at her from a chair opposite her.
“Feeling better?” asked a nearby voice.
Devon turned and saw a short man with dark brown eyes on the sofa next to her. A quick scan of the room told her that they were on a boat. Where was Chad? Couldn’t he hear any of this on her cell phone? It should be acting like an open microphone.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“On a boat.” The man’s words sounded terse as if he’d ground them out a syllable at a time.
“I remember you,” she said. “Brock Hardesty with Obelisk.”
CHAD HEARD THE WORDS “on a boat.” How far could they be? he wondered. He’d checked on Devon only a few minutes ago. She’d been keyboarding on her computer.
“Chad, what do you mean? Is Devon a protected witness?”
“Absolutely. Those men weren’t from the FBI. They’re going to kill her.”
He barely heard his sister’s sob. He knew Devon was on a boat, and she had to be nearby. Not enough time had elapsed for anyone to have taken her very far. Her cell phone was still transmitting. The DoD gadget, he thought.
“Chad, I’m sorry. I thought—”
He barged by Keke. The only way he could find Devon was with the DARPA device. If she was in the harbor, he could scan each boat and see where people were. Of course, there was a problem. The device might pick up people as dogs or boats or mechanical objects. Still, it was his best option.
He pulled the scanner out of the leather pouch.
“I want to help,” Keke said.
“Call the local FBI office. Ask for Warren. Tell him some men impersonating FBI agents have kidnapped Devon.”
He dashed out of the office to get the Beretta he kept on the seat of his SUV. On the way out, he passed a redhead. She was probably going into Aloha. People never expected them to be closed Monday and Tuesday.
“WE’VE COME FOR THE DISK,” the kid with the spiked hair told Devon. For emphasis, he aimed a gun at her temple.
“I haven’t got it.”
“You know where it is.”
Devon didn’t see any point in denying it. “I looked at the disk and didn’t see anything interesting on it.”
“It’s encrypted.”
“What’s on it that’s so important? Look at all the people who have died because of it.”
The kid said, “We’re asking the questions here.”
She cleared her throat, pretending to be on the verge of tears. “If I’m going to die over it, I have a right to know.”
She was stalling. Surely Chad would be here shortly. The kid still held a gun. Brock probably had one, as well.
Brock scanned her face critically. “Smart gal like you should have been able to break the encryption.”
“Or get someone to do if for you,” the kid added. “You had it long enough.”
“I didn’t know it was valuable. The agent the FBI sent to PowerTec said it was worthless.”
“She knew it was worth a fortune. Just before the FBI went to investigate PowerTec, the company hired experts to remove the confidential material. We didn’t check the keystroke logger on Rutherford’s machine soon enough. You’d made a copy, but you’d disappeared.”
“I had this all wrong,” she admitted. “I thought Rutherford and Ames were after me.”
“Pussies. Both of them. Rutherford was cutting a deal with the prosecutors.”
“That’s why you arranged for the plane accident.”
“It was easier than sending a team after them. Besides, fewer questions are asked if there’s an accident.”
Devon hadn’t cared for Rutherford and Ames, but they had families, wives, children, parents. A death impacted so many people.
“What’s on the disk that is worth so many killings?” If she kept them talking, Chad would have more time to find her.
The kid said, “Don’t tell her.”
Brock rolled his eyes and stared up at the boat’s teak ceiling. “Why not? She’ll be better off dead so she might as well know what she died for.”
The kid shrugged. “It’s your show.”
“The disk has information on Obelisk, the men running it, links to our sources in the military. It also shows where the money is stashed.”
“The Cayman Islands. I learned that much when I was at PowerTec.”
“It doesn’t really matter where the money is. Who’s getting the money is what’s important. Some of our highest military leaders are profiting from the scheme.”
“I called the FBI because I could see from PowerTec’s records that they were cheating the government. Short orders. Inferior parts.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” He spoke without a hint of boastfulness. “Now where’s the disk?”
Her mind had been scrambling over what to say. She didn’t want to send them to Chad’s office. His secretary could get hurt. She didn’t want to give them the copy in Chad’s safe, either. If anything happened to her, she wanted the truth to come out.
“It’s in a safety deposit box at First Honolulu Bank.” It sounded logical to her. Where would a woman on the run hide a disk? She did have a deposit box there, but it had extra cash in case she needed to disappear.
Brock studied her for a moment. “Did you make any copies?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t believe her,” the kid said. “Get the truth out of her.”
Brock nodded. “Let’s get the disk first. Then we can have a little fun. We don’t want to walk into the bank with a bloody mess on our hands.”
“Good thinking.”
Where was Chad? He should have found her by now. It was a long trip to the bank. With luck she would have an opportunity to get away from them.
Running in a zigzag pattern was her best bet. WITSEC had told her that even an expert shot hits a moving target less than fifty percent of the time.
“Ahoy there! Permission to board,” called a woman.
“Who the hell is that?” Brock asked. “Take a peek through the blinds.”
All the blinds were down throughout the vessel. Evidently they didn’t want anyone who happened by to look in.
The kid peered through the miniblinds. “It’s a redhead. A real looker.”
“Get rid of her.”
The kid headed for the door.
“No. Wait a minute. Ask her name.”
The kid stuck his head out and asked her name.
“Jordan Walsh.”
Brock couldn’t help smiling. The two women who’d made his life miserable were with him now. Killing two women and dumping them at sea was going to be the ultimate high.
Wait a minute! How did the bitch find him?
Devon watched as a stunning redhead in yellow shorts and a lime green blouse walked in. She had Chad’s device in her hand. How had she gotten it away from him? Had she killed him for it?
“Hello, Brock,” she said with an alluring smile.
“How’d you find me?” He didn’t sound the least bit thrilled to see her.
“I brought a little present for you.” She held up the test gadget. “Infrared locator. It works great in the day and even better at night.”
“Worthless piece of shit. I had one and it didn’t work.”
“That’s because I disabled it.”
“And you installed a keystroke logger on my PC.”
“Just keeping track of things. “She blessed Brock with a sweet smile.
“Who do you work for?” He snarled out the words.
“Bash Olofson.”
“Bullshit!”
“He’s testing you. Bash has been unhappy with Cassidy for some time.”
“Figures.” He turned to the kid. “Do you know her?”
“No, but I’ve been in the Middle East for the last two years. Sounds like Uncle Bash. He’s always complaining about Cassidy. He sent me to learn your job so you can take over for him.”
Unfuckingbelievable, he thought. This whole time he thought he was going to get the axe because he’d lost Samantha Robbins twice.
Kaboom! The boat rocked hard and a shuddering sound rumbled up from the engine room.
Brock asked, “What the hell was that?”
“An explosion,” Jordan said.
The kid added, “I smell fire. We’d better get out of here.”
“Jesus! Just what I don’t need.” He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Devon. “No funny business.”
Devon saw this as a chance to get away. She stepped out of the boat. People were running down the gangway to see what had happened.
Jordan said, “Better put the guns away. Cops will be all over this place.”
Brock and Kyle shoved their weapons into their waist-bands. Brock grabbed Devon’s wrist in a death grip.
People were rushing up, asking, “What happened?”
“Probably a propane leak from the stove,” offered an old salt who looked as if he’d been around water his whole life.
“We’ve got to go,” Brock said.
The harbor master was speeding their way in a red boat. With this many people around, now was the time to make a break for it. Jordan winked at her. Suddenly Devon knew Chad must have used his diving expertise and caused the explosion.
Kyle led them up the gangway with Devon and Jordan walking on either side of Brock. Jordan stumbled and went down to her knees. Brock gave her his arm for support. Jordan started to rise, then suddenly tugged at Brock’s arm.
Devon got the picture. She threw her weight against his side. She kneed him in the groin, and he dropped her wrist. She jumped off the gangway into the water. Swimming as fast as she could, she hid under the gangway.
There was an air pocket up top. They could probably shoot through the boards, but she doubted they would chance it with so many people around. A hand grabbed her ankle. She kicked hard, aiming for his crotch. It took her a second to realize it was Chad. She was right. He had been under the boat, planting the explosives.
Shots rang out. Chad pulled her under the water. They shared his equipment to get air and swim toward the restaurant area. Even under the water, they heard the wail of police sirens. They surfaced and in the distance saw police and an ambulance.
“Oh, my goodness. I hope Jordan didn’t get shot.”
“It looks like a man on the gurney. From his size, I’d say it’s Hardesty.”
“You’re right. I see Jordan’s red hair.”
They pulled themselves out of the water. Chad peeled off his mask and fins while Devon tried to catch her breath.
“You set the explosion, didn’t you?”
He smiled at her. “Piece of cake. During the Gulf War, I sabotaged a lot of Iraqi boats. I didn’t want to sink it. I just wanted to create a diversion. I sent Jordan in first to make sure you weren’t dead. When she didn’t immediately come out, I knew it was a go.”
“Who is Jordan?”
“She’s a special investigator for the Department of Defense. They’ve been trying to crack the Obelisk deal for some time.”
Jordan spotted them and came running over. “It’s over. Hardesty’s badly wounded. I doubt if he’ll make it.”
“Who shot him?” Devon asked.
Jordan smiled. “I did. With his own gun.”
“She’s a crack shot,” added Chad.
“It’s over. It’s really over?” Devon asked.
Chad wrapped his arms around Devon and held her tight. “Yes, sweetheart. It’s over.”
“Gotta go,” Jordan said. “I want to get the disk back to Washington.”
“Goodbye,” Devon said. “And thank you.”
Walking off Jordan said, “Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.”
“What wedding?”
He smiled his trademark meltdown smile. “Ours. Will you marry me?”
“Of course, but I warn you. I want several children.”
“Do you want to wait a bit? Go home to Houston and see—”
“This is my home now, my life. I’d planned to return here when things were over. There’s nothing in Houston for me. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If you’d wanted to move back to Texas, I would have gone with you. I love you, Devon. Never doubt it.”