Stone took up position on the hillside just above the club. He was still surrounded in dense foliage. He threw the carbine’s sling over his head and looked through a set of miniaturized binoculars and began to count bodyguards. “One, two . . . shit, three.” The well-dressed Colombian men were stationed outside the club at various points. Stone exhaled and looked further down the hill to his bungalow. “That was three bodyguards outside the club, how many inside?” He scanned the parking lot. The Jeep was not there, but then he noticed Jana as she pulled up to the valet. Even in the tension of the situation, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was.
He shook his head and returned his focus to the bodyguards. He zoomed the view closer and studied each man individually. “Uh-huh,” he said as he located a large bulge hidden beneath the coat jacket of each. “Automatic weapons, just like I thought.”
He pulled out Cade’s cellphone and looked at the map. This time the ping had closed the distance. “What is taking so long? Get the damned boat over here.” But then a wave crashed into the dock and the boats tied into slips rocked against their bumpers. Damn this weather, he thought. More lightning flashed and in the flicker of light, Stone saw the boat approaching.
He looked just past the club at the boardwalk and staircases that led from the club down to the dock and in front of his bungalow. As the boat entered the harbor, it rocked across waves of increasing size. The storm was getting worse. Time to get into position.