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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

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Gator led the train of four dune buggies into town, waving cheerfully to the citizens they passed. Between hauling the fishing vessel and assisting with the car rescue, his crew were suddenly welcome in a way they'd never been before. Gotta remember that for next time they wanted to infiltrate a community's good graces. Might have to devise their own disaster, but they'd done it before.

They pulled up in the vacant land between the town and the dockside, bearing coolers loaded with beer and meat, plus all the fixings, or at least, all the ones they could find out here. Brought to mind the Brit's miracle meals cooked up from whatever crap they could scrounge. Gator packed a few other things for entertainment.

"We know the plan?" he asked the crew at large, getting thumbs up or nods in reply. Monty hopped off his buggy, leaving it empty while Joe had a seat next to him. Too transparent? Nah. In Gator's experience people always had preferences, why not cater to them?

The Jeep pulled in a few minutes later, with Jessica at the wheel. She expertly parallel parked in the same spot they'd had before, like somebody saved it for them. Huh. Maybe part of the movie-magic involved getting front row parking whenever you snapped your fingers, not that Rowe was exactly a movie star, but close enough. Biggest thing to happen around here for a while anyway.

Monty strolled in their direction as the pair climbed out. They polished up nice, as Gator's granny would've said, Rowe's dark hair gleaming, freshly washed, the silver at his temples accenting his eyes to the point where Gator wondered if he bleached it just for that. As for Jessica, she wore capri pants and a tank top with a sun shirt loose over the top, her hair braided back and a pair of sunglasses that made her look ready for Hollywood, too. He guessed she was part-Indian, so maybe Bollywood was a closer match.

"The handheld, definitely, and let's see if one of those mounts will fix a camera onto the buggy frame," Rowe was saying already, then he turned to the crew and offered a dazzling, near-movie-star smile. "That is, if you don't mind our filming?"

"Long as we don't end up recognizable on film," Gator said. "Some of the boys have ex's they're hiding from." He offered a grin of his own. "I figured you and Joe can ride together—we can put you up front if you want, for pristine views?"

Rowe shook his head. "Better to have another buggy to show what we're up to."

"Monty. You up for it?"

Monty shrugged. He'd been cultivating that shrug for a long time, one that set his shoulders back, and made his chest seem a little more broad, his biceps a little more defined. Seemed to work, though. "Sure. Not like they'll see our faces, right, Jessica?" He dropped his glance then. "Assuming you don't mind riding with me."

She swept the buggies with those sharp eyes. "If you don't mind riding with me." She finally look at him, swinging a large pack onto her shoulder. "I'd like to drive."

"Ooooooooh!" Tyrone pressed a wrist to his forehead and "swooned" against Smitty to general mirth.

"What do you say, Monty? Willing to let a woman take the wheel?" Gator smirked.

"You know it."

"Right. I'll take sweep. Can I help you load your gear?" Gator dismounted and strolled over, and Rowe loaded him down.

"Hey, speaking of," Monty began, taking a tripod.

"I'd like to set up a time lapse. Fire on the beach, sunset, that sort of thing always plays well." Rowe paused. "Did you have a question, Monty?"

"Yeah. I have this sensor, meant to detect off-shore earthquakes. It's part of our kit for this construction project that's on hold, but we're hoping the permissions will come through. Anyway, I was meant to analyze the results and make sure the tech is working but—"he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck—"my laptop went down with the boat. Any chance you've got one I could borrow? Just need a couple of hours, ideally with internet, in case I need to do an update."

"Oh, God, the updates! I can only imagine, in your line of work, what pain that is." Rowe started toward the waiting buggies. "Certainly. We're not likely using it tomorrow, and I've paid the internet at our hotel. You're welcome to use the room there, if you need it."

"Hey, Monty—did that guy just invite you back to his room?" Gator called out. "You want me to rough him up for you?"

Monty flashed him the bird with his free hand while Rowe's ear tips went a pink. "I'm honestly unsure if I'm ready to spend much time with you lot. I could well die of embarrassment. Though, it must be said, if that were a true cause of death, my own family would've long since succumbed."

Handing off some of his stuff to Joe, the Brit pulled out a handful of metal parts, brackets and bolts. Jessica strolled over and the two of them took a few minutes assembling a camera mount on the front bar of the buggy. A second mount followed the first, one of them pointing inward, trained on the empty seat next to Joe.

Rowe installed the front camera and tapped a few buttons. Hat on his head, he stepped into the camera's view. "Next up on this adventure, best seats in the house for the sunset over the Pacific! Courtesy of some new friends and their dune buggy squad. Sadly, they'd prefer not to be on screen, but we might catch them later, cavorting around a campfire. These are the sort of people who spent their morning rescuing stranded fishermen and freeing a woman trapped in her car after the recent storm, but too humble to show their faces or share their names. Silent heroes are often the finest in my experience." He slipped the hat from his head and held it to his chest. "Truly, my hat's off to you."

After a pause, his smile returned, his eyes locked to the camera and the hat returned to his head. "Well, enough of that—off to the races!"

He climbed into the seat next to Joe. "Are there safety belts in this thing?"

"Not for you!" Joe punched it, and Rowe's gale of laughter led the way.