ZANE

By R. L. Keller

(A BIG Thank You to Pauline. I’m not sure this is what she had in mind with the Contrive, but this is what my brain turned out)

“I don’t like it,” came firmly out of Admiral Nelson’s mouth as he stood in his office at NIMR. On the other side of his desk stood his submarine captain, Cdr. Lee Crane.

“I’m not overly thrilled with it, either, sir,” was admitted quietly but said as Lee stood straight, not avoiding Nelson’s piercing gaze.

“Then just say no,” Nelson grumbled.

“And do what for nearly a month?” came out in a grumble, foregoing the ‘sir’. Nelson snorted, waved a hand, and both men finally sat down.

The Admiral had, barely an hour ago, received a call from Admiral Robert Jones, Director of the Office of Naval Intelligence, ‘requesting’ Lee’s services. Nelson accused the man, actually friends when they weren’t arguing over what Lee should, and should not, be doing, of having a spy somewhere on NIMR’s staff who reported whenever Lee might have an extra day or three to give to ONI, so regularly did Jones call. Thankfully that Admiral had finally gotten better about calling Nelson first instead of simply going directly to Lee. In this case, Seaview was in port for extended repairs after a nasty encounter with enemy agents in the Arctic.* Lee usually helped with repairs to his beloved Seaview. But this time, with such extensive work needed, NIMR’s Maintenance Dept. was being augmented by a special naval crew from Norfolk. Not that that would stop Lee, but between the two highly skilled teams Lee figured that he’d just be in the way until the majority of the work was done and he could then concentrate on checking the work and familiarizing himself with the upgrades. Originally he’d planned to accompany his mother, a freelance writer, on a trip she was planning to Russia. But recent tensions had made her postpone that idea so she was going to spend some time visiting friends in England and Ireland, and Lee figured that it would be inconvenient for him to invite himself along – no matter that his mom told him that it wouldn’t be a problem. Seaview’s XO was headed to his folk’s farm for at least two weeks and Lee always had an open invitation to any of the Morton family gatherings. Lee had been discussing that with Chip when he’d gotten the call to report to Nelson’s office. Nelson had been pacing when Lee arrived, briefly outlined what Jones had told him, which lead to both men’s mutterings.

Now Lee sat quietly, pondering the bit of intel and somewhat waiting for Nelson to forbid him taking the ONI assignment. When it wasn’t immediately forthcoming, he raised an eyebrow. Nelson snorted softly again. “Waiting for me to deny you going?” he guessed.

“Actually, yes, sir,” Lee admitted.

Nelson sent him a nod, with an expression more exasperated than accepting. “As much as I’d like to, I’m not sure that I can.”

“Your own connections to ONI,” it was Lee’s turn to guess, causing his boss to send him a nod and a quick smile.

“We both have too much knowledge of the world’s evils to be complacent if given the opportunity to help correct a problem.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed. “Did Admiral Jones say why he wanted me specifically?”

“He always wants you,” came out in a growl, but Nelson shrugged as Lee ducked his head slightly. “You’re good, Lee. And don’t give me that, ‘just doing my job the best I know how’ garbage,” was added with a firm look.

Lee shrugged, smiling shyly. “Yes, sir,” came softly, causing Nelson to chuckle.

“I’m just not sure anyone is good enough to pull this one off.” Nelson slouched in his chair. “On the other hand,” he brightened slightly, “I really can’t see Robert risking one of his best agents,” he sent Lee a smile, “into a situation where he risked losing you forever. No matter how screwy this assignment sounds.”

Lee gave his full-time boss a shy look at the praise, but nodded nonetheless. “I’d like to think that, sir.”

Nelson nodded. “Then, your call,” he told Lee. They were both silent for several minutes.

* * * *

It was a rough-looking bar on an out-of-the-way island in Indonesia. The clientele was also rough-looking, sitting around the half dozen tables in groups of two to four. Fishermen, perhaps, or just men on the outskirts of society. An exception was a man sitting at the end of the bar by himself. He’d showed up several days previous, a stranger in the area, and by his belligerent attitude wanting to stay that way. He was dressed much like the others, a little cleaner perhaps, in jeans, an unbuttoned shirt in the sometimes oppressive heat, with long sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows. He spoke to no one except the bartender, and barely that. The first night he’d wandered in he’d sat down where he sat now, ordered a scotch which he drank slowly, ignoring everyone else, and ambled back out. By the third night he didn’t even have to ask; when he walked in, the bartender poured his drink and set it down in front of the end bar stool.

There was mild curiosity among the regulars about the man, but not much. People who ended up here wanted the anonymity, and left each other alone. It was known that the man was staying in a rundown shack at the edge of what passed for a town. There were any number of such places; no owners, really, merely claimed by whoever could stand the semi-squalor. Men came and went for their own reasons, left alone by others who wished to be treated the same way.

Two men sitting at the very back table, their backs to the wall so that they could keep an eye on the entire room, had a slightly different attitude. Not overly obvious, they still watched everyone who entered or left, off and on talking quietly to each other. They, like the loner, only had one drink each night, making it last for the couple of hours they spent in the old bar.

Tonight, just before the loner was finished with his solitary drink, one of the two men ambled outside. No one seemed to take notice; everyone was caught up in their own versions of life on the sidelines. One who did take notice was the loner, although you’d have had to look close to catch his interest. As the other nights, he slowly finished his drink, laid money on the bar, nodded to the barman, and walked out. As he headed back to the lonely shack where he was staying, a voice suddenly broke the silence.

“Zane.” It wasn’t a question. The man stopped walking and slowly looked around. Seeing nothing except shadows, he remained quiet. “Zane,” came once more, and the man turned toward where the voice had come from.

“I’m impressed,” the man spoke slowly. Not hesitantly, but more uninterested. “You know my name.”

“I know a lot of things.”

“Good for you,” and the man, Zane, started walking away. He’d taken half a dozen steps when he found his way blocked. He didn’t hesitate; a kick to the man’s groin buckled the slightly larger man, a jab to the kidneys took his breath away and dropped him to the knees, and a chop to the back of the man’s neck flattened him. Zane, arms at his side and not even breathing hard, looked with disdain at the man at his feet. “Stay the hell away from me,” he spit out, turned, and once more headed toward his shack.

“Zane,” again came from the shadows.

“What?” came out in a nasty sneer, but Zane stopped walking and once more faced the shadows.

One of the shadows moved, and out stepped one of the two men who always sat at the back table in the bar. The other one was still on the ground, moaning but starting to get up. “Like I said, I know things. Like, you’re short of money.”

“That’s none of your business.” Zane’s expression was as hard as his voice.

“I have a proposition.”

Zane sneered. “If that idiot,” he pointed to the man still on the ground, “is who you hire, bugger off. And don’t come back,” was added with a growl.

“He has his uses,” the man offered. “But I have multiple projects that need multiple talents.”

“I don’t work with jackholes.”

“So I gather.” The man finally came into the light from the full moon and the two faced each other, ignoring the moans from the man still struggling to get to his feet. “Jordan,” the shadow man finally broke the silence. Zane gave no indication of any kind, continuing to stare at him. “I have work for you. If you want it.”

Zane said nothing. The man he’d attacked finally got to his feet and started to walk toward Jordan. As he passed Zane, apparently too close, Zane kicked him in the knee, sending him several feet away and once more to the ground. “Keep your distance, Jackhole,” Zane spit out fiercely before turning back to face Jordan. “As long as it’s not with him,” he flipped a hand at the now swearing man on the ground. “I’m listening.”

Jordan half-turned and took a step. “Come with me...”

“No,” Zane told him flatly.

It seemed to startle Jordan. “I thought...”

“You thought you could order me around.”

Jordan once more faced Zane but said nothing for a long moment. “I could kill you where you stand.”

“You could try,” came back, still in the flat voice Zane had been using. “Many have. Tried, that is.”

Again Jordan said nothing, sizing up the man. “When and where?” he finally asked.

“Here, in the open, tomorrow morning.”

Jordan nodded and finally looked at his still swearing companion. “Shut up, Baker,” he growled, but walked to the man and none too gently got him to his feet. He glanced at Zane, who hadn’t moved. “Eight o’clock. I have to be elsewhere at 9:00.” He got barely a nod as Zane continued to stare at him, and with a short nod of his own, basically pushed the man, Baker, ahead of him as they left.

“I want him,” Baker spit out, although he waited until they were far enough away so that he couldn’t be heard. Jordan merely snorted. “One shot, right between those snaky eyes. He’ll never see it coming. Who does he think he is? He wasn’t even armed.”

“Someone a great deal smarter than you,” Jordan told him almost amiably.

Baker glared. “He’s a dead man.”

“Not until I say so,” Jordan glared right back. “Understand?” and a foot reached out and tapped Baker’s knee – the one Zane had kicked. Something came out of Baker’s mouth, but mumbled enough to be indecipherable. “You’d better,” Jordan warned. “No one touches him until I say so!”

* * * *

Jordan was about a hundred yards from where he was supposed to meet Zane the next morning when that man’s voice came from behind several trees. “Where’s your stooge?”

“Nursing his injuries.” Jordan stopped walking and Zane showed himself. “This isn’t where we agreed to meet.”

“And you, of course, always keep your word.”

Jordan actually smiled. “So, neither of us trusts the other.”

“Trust too easily gets you killed.”

“Agreed. But there needs to be some sort of understanding before a common goal can be reached.”

“My main goal is staying alive,” Zane told him.

“Mine, too,” Jordan agreed. “But to live I need money. You don’t?”

Zane shrugged. “I have enough.”

“Well, I don’t” Jordan admitted. “But,” and he pointed a finger, although not at anything specific, “I know where to get it. Lots of it.”

“Good for you.” Zane almost smiled. “Not legally, I gather.”

Jordan waggled a hand. “If funds are illegally earned, is it illegal to take them back?”

Zane glared at him. “Don’t play games with me,” he warned.

“Have you seen the big house on the other side of town?”

“The guarded compound. Figured it was yours.”

Jordan snorted. “I wish. Well, maybe I don’t. It belongs to a man named Malik Haz. Supposedly a retired businessman from Jakarta who now wants nothing but his privacy.”

“What’s wrong with privacy?” Zane growled.

“He hides for a very good reason,” it was Jordan’s turn to growl. “He spent his early years learning his family’s business but soon discovered that it was far more profitable to steal. Eventually he built up a syndicate to organize what the world thinks are random pirates. But they all belonged to him!”

“All? I don’t believe you.”

Jordan shrugged. “The ones that didn’t agree to his leadership suddenly disappeared.”

“What kind of fool goes up against that kind of power?” Zane asked, his voice full of disdain as he glared at Jordan.

“The kind that has waited a long time for revenge,” Jordan growled. His hands turned to tight fists before he noticed and, with a deep breath, made them relax. “Haz has become afraid of his own shadow. He’s no longer in control, and afraid of those who are. He hides here, behind strong walls. But he has amassed millions, which he brought with him.”

“And you plan to just walk in and take his money,” Zane scoffed.

“Oh no.” Jordan’s smile, while broad, was also evil. “He’s going to give it to me.”

Zane shook his head and started to turn away. “Idiot or fool, I don’t deal with either.” Jordan reached out a hand as if to stop Zane from walking away. Zane slapped it away and glared at him. “Stay away from me, you hear? You’re insane. Go get yourself killed.”

“Not insane, and definitely no idiot. I’ve had years to plan my revenge.”

“That’s the second time you’ve used that word,” Zane tossed at Jordan. “Revenge is just another word for hatred. If you hate, you don’t think straight, and not thinking straight gets you killed.”

Jordan shook his head. “Not this time,” he said with confidence. “But I understand if you’re afraid,” came out in a sneer.

Zane almost smiled. “The only thing I’ve ever been afraid of is letting myself believe idiots.” He stared hard at Jordan. “Made that mistake once,” he admitted. “Won’t ever let that happen again.”

“US Navy,” Jordan said, and smirked when Zane sent him another glare. “Told you I know a lot of things. Like, who you are and why you’re here.”

“I’m here because I want to be,” came out low and hard.

“And it’s a good place to hide,” Jordan told him, half an unfriendly smile on his face. Zane merely shrugged. “If you’re found you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison.”

“I’ll die before I’ll spend another day behind bars,” Zane growled. “And I don’t plan on either any time soon.” Once more he started to walk away.

“You plan on living the rest of your life in that shack?” was tossed at his back.

“What’s it to you?” Zane stopped walking but didn’t turn, his back still to Jordan.

“I have need of someone with, shall we say, your rather unique talents.” Zane turned ever so slowly to face Jordan, his expression nasty but he remained silent. “It will be quite profitable, I assure you.” Zane snorted with disgust. “And then you can live comfortably wherever you choose.”

Zane seemed to ponder that, although his glare at Jordan never wavered. “Thought you had another appointment,” he finally said.

Jordan nodded. “Was hoping to talk you into coming along.”

“Why?”

“Ali sets a fine table.” Jordan shrugged. “And you look like you could use a good meal.” As Zane still hesitated, Jordan sent him a nod. “Ali is also a man who likes his privacy. A good meal in a safe location, we’ll talk a little business, and then you can decide if you want to join us or not.”

“Just how many people in this little gang of yours?”

“Wondering how many ways the pie has to be split?” was asked with a grin. Zane remained silent. “The fewer people involved, the fewer chances of it getting screwed up,” came out harshly. “Ali has access to...necessary materials,” came out more under control. “I’d planned activities for Baker, but...” He shrugged. “He still has his uses but I’ll keep him away from you.” Jordan almost smiled. “We will require one other person. But you do not need to meet at this point.” Zane frowned. “Completely trustworthy. She hates Haz even more than I do,” was added.

“She?”

“Enough for now. Are you coming?” Jordan started back in the direction from which he’d come. Zane hesitated, but nodded and walked with him.

They started to circle what passed for a town but took a path about halfway around that lead deeper into the surrounding jungle. Following that for only about thirty yards, another trail took off to the left. Barely ten yards in they came to a wall with a gate. “You might want to button up your shirt,” Jordan told Zane, who was dressed as he had been the night before.

“Why,” came out as a demand.

“Simply as a courtesy to our host.” Jordan shrugged. “But do as you please.”

“I always do,” came back with a glare and the shirt stayed open. Jordan shrugged again and opened the gate. They entered a small courtyard, a pleasant-looking bungalow sitting squarely inside. As Jordan closed the gate, the door to the house opened and the largest man Zane had ever seen filled the doorway. Not that tall, the man seemed equally as round; at least four hundred pounds, and probably more. Yet he appeared quite agile as he heartily greeted Jordan with a hug and was introduced to Zane. As Ali seemed to want to hug him as well, Zane took a step back. Jordan chuckled softly. “Zane here doesn’t like people too close to him. Baker found out the hard way.”

“Ah,” Ali acknowledged, and lead the pair into the house. Zane, the last to enter, closed the door. “Come,” Ali’s arm pointed further into the house. “Breakfast is ready.”

The trio walked through the house, Ali leading and Zane bringing up the rear, until they reached an enclosed porch bright with outside light. All the trees on that side of the house had been cleared to a distance of about forty feet, where the fence in front continued and surrounded the house. Alternating windows and screens on three sides of the porch let in both light and a soft breeze, welcome in what would turn into a sultry heat later in the day, and the room was quite pleasant. Ali pointed toward a table in the corner where three place settings had been laid. The fourth side of the table held bowls of fruit, scrambled eggs, ham slices, and several different types of bread. Obviously used to eating here, Jordan filled his plate with food. Zane hung back until Ali also served himself before taking small portions of fruit, eggs, one slice of ham, and what turned out to be banana bread. Ali looked askance as Zane finally sat down. “That is all you’re going to have?” His voice was incredulous. Zane sent him a quick stare and poured coffee from the carafe in the center of the table.

Jordan shook his head as he stuffed his own face and swallowed. “No wonder you look like you haven’t eaten in a week.” Zane sent the stare his direction as he took a bite of food.

“You don’t talk much,” Ali observed. Zane’s stare returned to his host. Ali looked at Jordan, who shrugged, and conversation continued off and on between those two as Zane ate his small meal, remaining silent and watchful.

It remained this way, Zane only pouring a second cup of coffee and drinking it slowly, until the other two were finished. It took a while; Jordan took a bit more food once he’d cleaned up what he’d originally taken, but Ali’s second plateful held just as much, if not more, than his first. Zane had never seen one person eat that much at one time and it all but turned his stomach. But when the two were finally done, yet continued to talk about nothing more than friendly drivel, he put down his cup less than politely, stood, and started to walk back toward the front door. “Where are you going?” Jordan demanded.

“You’re wasting my time,” came without Zane either stopping or even turning his head.

“We need him,” he heard Ali say quietly to Jordan.

“Zane, you’re insulting our host.” Jordan tried to sound like he was scolding a child, but Zane heard desperation behind the reprimand.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Zane said with a sneer and kept walking.

“Wait,” Ali all but yelled. He stood up so fast his chair fell backwards. “I meant only to put you at ease,” he tried to placate Zane. His voice steadied as he continued. “I should have realized that...” He hesitated. “I do tend to prattle on,” came out with a small chuckle.

“Amen,” Jordan muttered not quite under his breath.

Zane had stopped walking away as Ali spoke, and now slowly turned around. He sent a look at both men but didn’t speak. “Come,” Ali continued, and waved a hand to his right. “We will have privacy in my office.” He started to walk toward a door in that direction. Jordan stood and followed. Zane hadn’t seen signs of anyone else in the house, but finally shrugged and followed.

The door lead into a much different atmosphere than the very open porch. Here, rich mahogany covered most of the walls. There was a window in one wall but it had bars on the outside. When Zane closed the door behind him there was the unmistakable sound of a solid latch. A desk sat on one side, but Ali settled into one of the chairs around a small table. Jordan and Zane took the other two, Zane still stiff and cautious. On the table were a couple of rolled up, large sheets of paper. Once they were all settled Ali unrolled one of the scrolls, displaying what turned out to be a casual rendering of a large house.

“The Haz house,” Ali told Zane and started pointing out how it was laid out; what rooms were what. Zane paid close attention, and especially when Ali started explaining all of Haz’s security measures, most of which were centered around the perimeter bounders.

“You’re well informed,” Zane told him at one point.

“One must be, in my business.”

“The grounds seem impenetrable,” Zane continued as a finger moved over the layout of the house.

“Not entirely,” Jordan finally spoke, and reached for the other rolled up paper. On it were two views, one top and one lateral, of the side of the Haz property closest to the ocean. It showed what appeared to be a pipe of some sort, one end in the water and the other one connected to a small shed just inside the well-armed boundary fence of the compound. Zane looked at Jordan, who shrugged. “Have no idea,” that man guessed Zane’s unvoiced question as to what it was. “At a guess, some sort of waste disposal from the early 1900’s when the area the house now sits on was a small native village. There’s no shore access in that area.”

“Haz knows it’s there.” Zane didn’t make the comment a question.

“Of course,” Jordan snorted. “But it’s no longer in use, and capped at both ends with heavy metal grating.”

“Why didn’t he just remove it?”

“How the hell should I know,” Jordan shouted back.

Ali reached out a hand and laid it on Jordan’s arm as he looked at Zane. “There are a lot of unanswered questions, to be sure,” he said quietly. “But that pipe is your way into the compound.” He shook his head. “Sadly, I do not fit inside,” and his other hand indicated his own body. “And Jordan doesn’t swim that well.” Zane sent them both a glare. “The end of the pipe in the water is at a depth of approximately ten meters.”

“Thirty feet,” Zane translated. “And big enough for a person to fit?”

Ali nodded. “But not with much gear,” he admitted.

“A free dive,” Zane muttered softly, mostly to himself.

“Easy for a SEAL,” Jordan practically gloated at Zane. When Zane glared hard at the man he grinned, although there was no humor in the expression.

Zane stood and walked rapidly to the door. “You’re both mad,” he spit out and reached for the doorknob but it wouldn’t open. He turned and sent a deadly glare at Jordan. “You said that if I didn’t like what I heard, I could walk away.”

“So I lied,” Jordan told him mildly, and Zane balled his fists.

“Please, Mr. Zane, have a seat,” Ali told him in a controlled voice. “Just hear us out. We are neither mad, nor idiots as I understand you accused Jordan of being. We have need of your talents, for sure. But you will be handsomely compensated.”

“And if I refuse?” came out in a low, dangerous sounding threat.

Jordan answered in kind. “I tell the US authorities where they can find you.”

“You won’t live long enough.”

“Gentlemen, please,” Ali once more tried to calm both men down. “Jordan, perhaps you can pour us all a drink,” and he waved a hand at a wet bar that stood in the corner behind the small table. “What will you have, Mr. Zane?”

“Nothing,” Zane growled, his expression remaining hard. “And it’s just Zane, not mister.”

“Of course,” Ali told him before turning to Jordan. “Scotch please, Jordan, and whatever you want for yourself.” As Jordan got up, stiffly to be sure but complying with Ali’s request, Ali waved a hand at the chair Zane had been using. “Coffee, perhaps?” Zane shook his head, hesitated, but finally sat back down. “We are aware,” Ali continued, “of your history.” Zane glared at him but said nothing. “The US Navy trained you to be strong; a leader of men, a fighter to be reckoned with. And repaid you by tarnishing your record and imprisoning you.” Zane merely continued to stare at him. “That is their loss.” Ali flipped a hand. “That is no matter to me. Or to Jordan,” he added with a firm look as Jordan sat back down and handed Ali a glass. “You are a warrior, and from what I’ve been told, an excellent one.”

“By who?” Zane demanded.

Again Ali flipped a hand and took a sip from his glass. “That is of no consequence. And despite Jordan’s rash threat, I have no intention of wasting your talents.”

“So far you’re merely wasting my time,” Zane muttered. He put his hands on the chair arms, in preparation of getting up.

“Such an impatient man.” Ali smiled. “That’s what got you into trouble, I do believe?” He sent Zane another smile and took another sip of his drink.

“My superiors,” Zane made the word into an expletive, “were cowards, too afraid for their own skins to act.”

Ali nodded. “I understand. However, thinking before action is always a good thing.”

Zane almost smiled. “I always think. It’s not my fault if I can do it, with the right outcome, faster than others can get their thumbs out of their ashcans.”

“You see, Jordan?” Ali spoke to the other man but kept his eyes on Zane. “I told you Mis...ah, excuse me,” was directed at Zane, “Zane was our man.”

“To do what?” Zane asked stiffly, still wary.

“To swim down, use materials that I will supply to uncap the pipe, crawl through it and uncap the other end. Then make your way past Mr. Haz’s security into the house and kidnap his daughter.” Ali said it as if it was no big deal.

“You’re not proposing I take her out the way I came in,” Zane scoffed.

Again the flipped hand. “Of course not. I assume that, once inside, getting back out with the merchandise will be much easier.”

“Merchandise?” came out before Zane could stop it. “Children are now merchandise?” He glared at Jordan before another thought hit him and the glare turned even more harsh. “This is the woman you spoke of?”

“Absolutely not,” Ali answered instead. “We have those plans,” he gestured to the papers on the table, “because of a friend of Miss Haz’s; her tutor, actually, who is in the house most days but is of no help getting the young lady out of the compound, where her father keeps her almost a prisoner.”

“Just how old is this ‘merchandise’?”

“Just over fifteen.” This time Jordan answered.

“And she never comes outside the compound?”

“Our contact, her tutor, has occasionally asked to take her shopping but Mr. Haz fears for her safety; afraid that the people he cheated over the years will take their revenge on her.”

“Got that right,” was muttered softly from Jordan’s direction.

Ali frowned but nodded. “He will pay handsomely for her return. You will get your share and be far away...it is hoped,” he added quickly, “before Haz becomes aware that he will never see his daughter again.”

“You’ll kill her?”

“Even better,” Jordan spat out. “Libyan slave trade,” he added with obvious delight. “We get paid twice.”

“And you two keep your hands clean.”

“Of course,” Ali agreed. “I’m not exactly built for running away,” he added with a broad smile.

“And make me the scapegoat if anything goes wrong.”

“Which is why you’ll be well compensated when it doesn’t,” Ali told him firmly.

“I don’t trust either one of you,” Zane told the others honestly.

Ali nodded. “I can understand your dilemma,” he said sincerely. Everyone was silent for a bit.

“Timeline?” Zane finally asked.

“The sooner the better,” Jordan snarled.

“When you’re ready,” Ali countered with a look at Jordan. “But yes, it should be soon. Or at least,” he added, “we need to know if you’re in or out.”

Zane glared at him. “How many others have turned you down? And where are they now?”

Jordan sputtered but Ali held up a hand, half a smile on his face. “No one else with your, shall we say, unique qualifications has become available to us.”

“And you’re sure that pipe is clear all the way through.”

Ali looked at Jordan, who shrugged. “It was when Elise accidentally found out about it.” Zane stared at Jordan. “Elise Biaz; she’s the tutor. Said she was out for a walk with the girl, Gabrielle, and asked what was inside the concrete box. Gabby opened the wooden lid and showed her that end of the pipe. She dropped a rock down it and they both heard the splash.”

“So, the box isn’t locked. Just the grid on the end.”

“That’s how Elise described it. Baker swam down with scuba and confirmed the grating on the bottom end. He said that it was welded in place.” Zane snorted. “I told you, he has his uses,” Jordan defended the man.

“A solid weld or spot weld?” Zane asked. Jordan looked at him like he was speaking Greek, but Ali nodded.

“That would make a large difference,” Ali told Jordan.

“A very large difference in the time it takes to open it up,” Zane clarified. “I’ll have to check it before I can do anything else.”

“Once you do, make a list of whatever you think you’ll need,” Ali told him.

“How long?” When Ali sent him a puzzled look, Zane clarified further. “How long to get what I need?”

Ali nodded. “Unless you require something extravagant, twenty-four hours.”

Zane stood up. He stopped when Jordan also stood up. “I’ll come with you and make a list of what you need.”

“You,” Zane pointed a finger at Jordan, “stay the hell out of my way.” His voice held a serious threat. Jordan backed off a step and Ali nodded.

“I need to know what you’re doing,” Jordan told him firmly.

“The only thing you need to know is where and when to pick up your merchandise.” Zane’s voice dripped sarcasm. He sent a hard glare at the other two men, turned, and left. There was an audible click just before he reached the door, and this time the doorknob turned easily.

* * * *

A word Lee Crane rarely used slipped out as he walked with purpose back to the shack where he’d been living. This was the point in his assignment where both he and Admiral Nelson had reservations.

Once the decision had been made to hear more about the assignment, Nelson had called Jones back. Normally Admiral Jones wouldn’t have given such a detailed briefing over phone lines. But he was in a time crunch and he trusted his own phone lines to be secure, as well as those at NIMR. He had an agent in deep cover who had just become aware of the kidnapping plot. It was a break in a case that had been driving ONI, as well as several other organizations, crazy for some time. The only way this collaboration of criminals could be stopped was to catch them in the act, but the masterminds never got that close to the actual crimes. They hired others to do their dirty work, and then quickly but quietly eliminated them before they could implicate their bosses. No one missed the underlings, least of all the Indonesian Reserse. Both Nelson and Lee had smiled slightly when the Reserse branch of the local police was mentioned ** but said nothing. And if Admiral Jones was aware of NIMR’s connection he didn’t bring it up, either. Bodies were said to be bloodied and tossed into the ocean, thus encouraging sharks to get rid of the evidence.

ONI had gotten involved when a former SEAL, who’d left the service and become a mercenary, had recruited two others and gone after a shipment of arms. They managed to make off with all sorts of weapons and explosives before they mysteriously disappeared. Rumor, innuendo, and a little luck had led to the man who called himself Jordan. The man had so many aliases no one could determine who he actually was. It was thought that he’d learned his trade under the tutelage of Malik Haz before they’d both fled Jakarta. Haz had built his fortress and appeared to stay clean but no one was certain of that, either.

Lee was to be backstopped as a disgraced SEAL named Zane Weatherall, sentenced to Leavenworth for killing civilians in Iraq but who escaped before getting to the prison. “All well and good,” Lee had grumbled, “until I run into the real man.”

“Won’t happen,” Jones had assured him. “Weatherall was killed shortly after he escaped. It was kept quiet for this very reason – to be able to use his background.” Jones paused. “I met the man once. He was ruthless. To the extreme,” was added almost unwillingly, and Nelson and Lee shared a look. “He was also dark complexioned, slender, and about your height. It’s perfect for this assignment. And the fact that ‘Zane’ rhymes with Crane doesn’t hurt if someone yells it out loud.” Jones had gone on to explain exactly where Lee was headed; that the small shack, while needing to remain looking about ready to fall down was actually much sturdier than it looked, and held rather a lot of surprises well hidden under the floor thanks to the undercover agent who’d been living near it until recently. Jones had all but ordered Nelson to deliver Lee by FS1 so his appearance on the island couldn’t be traced, and the undercover agent would be able to add to ‘Zane’s’ mystique by identifying him to Jordan. Lee was to play along with whatever Jordan was up to. The other agent could be of little help beyond what was already arranged because they didn’t know what Jordan was planning. Nelson questioned that before Lee had a chance to open his mouth.

“Jordan is paranoid,” Jones spit out. “His hatred for Haz has made him doubly secretive. And doubly dangerous.”

“Do I know the other agent, sir?” Lee asked.

“No,” was all Jones would say on that topic and the briefing was rather abruptly cut off by Jones. Lee waited until the fax came through with the rest of the details and went over it with Nelson. Without anything else to go on, Nelson went to prepare FS1 while Lee went home to change and pack what little he was taking with him. He’d felt a little tense about leaving every last bit of identification in his home safe. Even his father’s signet ring that he almost always wore had to be left behind.

Now he had to forcibly stop himself from shuddering. Simple job – break into what was to all appearances a well-guarded fortress, kidnap a fifteen-year-old girl and get her out of the fortress without being caught, and turn her over to a man who was going to sell her into slavery. The same word he’d used earlier slipped out again, a little bit louder. There was no way anyone could go to the local authorities and try to explain. This was a lawless part of the world, and what passed for police of any kind were almost assuredly as corrupt as the people they ‘served’.

Nelson, thankfully, had been less than pleased with Admiral Jones’ version of an extrication plan for Lee if things went south. “When, not if,” Nelson had muttered, and Lee was forced to admit that he felt the same way. Unbeknownst to ONI, the pair had set up a partial plan of their own. It couldn’t be exact, of course, and only to be used if the situation became too dire to continue. But at least it gave Lee a little comfort knowing that he wasn’t entirely on his own, especially as he’d yet to discover the identity of the other agent. He’d been hoping that the person would figure out a way to let Lee know; maybe a note of some sort in the supplies hidden under the floor of the shack. But while there was non-perishable food, a few items of clothing, some money, and several small arms with accompanying ammunition, there was nothing to identify who had supplied them. He was hoping that it wasn’t Jordan’s lackey, Baker. Lee had had to make his attack real to prove himself to Jordan and knew that he’d caused the man damaged ribs, at the very least. He’d also have liked to ask Jordan why he hated Haz so much. But he needed to stay in character, and Zane wouldn’t be bothered by such details.

Nearing the shack where he was staying he carefully studied his surroundings, as he’d done every time he entered or exited. With no locks, he was a sitting duck if he wasn’t extremely careful. He’d been pleasantly surprised at how the other agent had camouflaged the storage places under what passed for a floor. If Lee hadn’t known where to look, he’d never have found them. Lee had to wonder that, if the person’s cover was so deep, if they’d ever show themselves. Jones certainly had given no indication that the person would be of any help to Lee beyond the shack and its contents. Another reason Nelson had decided to go behind Jones’ back and set up Lee’s contingency plan.

When Lee had arrived he’d done so in the dead of night by swimming in from FS1. He’d made no effort to hide his mask, snorkel, and fins, plus the waterproof bag he’d used for the few clothes he brought, making it appear as if he’d jumped overboard from some unknown passing ship. Now he spent the rest of the day puzzling over just how he was supposed to complete his assignment. He kept expecting Jordan to charge in demanding answers; answers that Lee wasn’t even sure he knew the questions that belonged to them. But the day passed uneventfully and Lee, who had made a habit of his nightly drink, went as usual to the bar. Jordan was there, in his usual corner, but there was no sign of Baker. Lee put on his belligerent act, slowly downed his drink, and headed back to the shack. Waiting until full darkness he donned swim trunks, grabbed his mask and fins, and headed to the secluded spot he had found to come ashore the first time. It meant a longer swim than he would have preferred, but his jeans were so tight that they wouldn’t fit over his swim trunks and he didn’t particularly want to be seen walking around in just them. He was mindful of possibly unfriendly marine life, so carried the small unmarked canister Nelson had given him of shark repellent as he’d left FS1, along with a dive knife strapped to his right calf.

Thankfully, he needed neither as he made the swim to where he thought the pipe should be. It took him a bit to find it, surprising as it was even bigger than he imagined it to be, but that end was pretty well camouflaged. He’d have no problems getting through it as long as he wasn’t wearing full scuba gear. He was also happy that the grate closing the bottom was only spot-welded; a small underwater torch would have it loose in a few minutes.

On his way back, he pondered if the pipe would be a good way to get the girl out; if she was that good a swimmer to hold her breath long enough to get through however deep the water was in the pipe, then back to the surface. Lee assumed that with the end thirty feet deep, there was also that much water to go through in the pipe. No problem for a Master Diver like Lee, but hardly something he could ask of someone he didn’t know. It would be so easy, he thought, to have FS1 waiting for him at the exit and take both he and the girl to safety. But that also defeated the purpose of stopping Jordan, Ali, and whoever else was involved. He had to play along enough to identify the players and neutralize them!

He sensed, rather than actually saw or heard, danger as he neared his shack, and the dive knife was instantly in his hand. “Jordan,” came softly, and the man showed himself around the corner of the shack. The knife stayed in Lee’s hand, causing Jordan to almost smile. “Can you do it?”

“Easy,” ‘Zane’ muttered with disdain, put the knife away, and entered the shack. He undid the knife scabbard and was stripping off his swim trunks when Jordan entered, staying barely inside the door. ‘Zane’ hung up the trunks to dry, toweled off, and pulled on his jeans without anything else being said between the two. But once he’d zipped the jeans he glared at Jordan. “Came to find out what equipment you need,” Jordan started, then paused. “And when you’re going to do it.”

“When I’m damned good and ready,” ‘Zane’ told him with a hard glare. “And not before.”

“If it’s so easy, why are you waiting?”

“If it’s so easy, do it yourself,” Zane sent back in an almost exact duplicate of exasperated whine Jordan had just used.

Jordan took a deep breath and continued in his normal tone. “I want it done!”

“No,” Zane flung back. “You want it done right. I have no intention of getting my head blown off because of your stupid impatience.” A very slight smile was quickly covered on Jordan’s face, and Lee had no doubts that Jordan planned to ‘blow his head off’ the instant the deed was done anyway. “I need to talk to the tutor-lady...”

“Why?” Jordan cut him off.

Zane glared at him. “I need to know more about the girl, her daily routine.”

“Surely you don’t plan to take her during the day,” Jordan was incredulous.

Zane shrugged. “Depends on what I learn,” he said casually. “You say she can be trusted. I need to know that for myself,” came out more firmly.

“I suppose that I can arrange a meet at Ali’s,” came out grudgingly. “But after dark.” was added.

“Suits me just fine,” Zane drawled. “Gives me a chance to tell him what I need.” Zane glared at Jordan, making it adamant that he wasn’t going to trust Jordan to pass on that intel.

“I’ll let you know,” came out somewhat resignedly, and Jordan left.

Lee slowly let out a long breath and almost relaxed. Not completely; he didn’t dare until this whole mess was resolved. But playing ‘Zane’ gave him a headache. He also needed to stay somewhat in character from the simple fact that he had no idea who was watching him, and/or listening. One of the first things he’d done was search the shack. He found nothing, but as good as the hiding places under the floor were, he didn’t dare let himself believe that there wasn’t a listening device hidden just as cleverly somewhere in the shack. Because of Jordan’s presence he’d lit a candle when he came in from his swim. Now he blew it out, and in the dark reached into one of the hidey-holes for a couple of granola bars; that’s mostly what he’d been living on, as well as some fruit and cheese. Somehow, and so far he’d not figured out how – nor had he tried that hard to find out – the supplies were replenished every other day. Whoever the other agent was, they were being extremely cautious. Lee appreciated both the food, and the expertise. He’d have liked to eat more of Ali’s breakfast, but he was so on edge from this whole mess that his stomach refused to cooperate. And while not a drinking man, per se, he was finding that the one scotch he allowed himself every night, as watered down as it was, did help calm him enough to get a little sleep.

Taking the bars, he walked down to the water’s edge and settled into the sand where only a short time before he’d emerged from his swim. He always seemed to think better closer to the water. Not all of his ONI missions allowed him that privilege, but he took advantage of it when he could.

This whole set-up was one big mess! He wanted nothing to do with it, yet having agreed no matter how much both he and Admiral Nelson felt uncomfortable, he’d see it through. He was extremely grateful for what Nelson had added, basically going behind Jones’ back and arranging a few details that, hopefully, would help Lee keep at least his part in this whole mess more under control. Lee was especially bugged that he couldn’t coordinate anything with the other agent – whoever that was. It was awkward trying to make plans when he had no idea what, or even if, he could count on any back-up, and the shiver that went down his body had nothing to do with the fact that the only thing he was wearing was the jeans he’d pulled on. Well, not quite the only thing I can count on, he told himself. What had been one size too small jeans when he’d arrived at the island were now starting to fit fairly well, and he knew that he’d catch hell from both Chip and Jamie when he got home for the weight that he’d lost. With a soft snort at himself, he polished off the two granola bars and stuffed the wrappers into a pocket, to be disposed of later.

As he started to get up there was a noise from the jungle behind him and he startled. “Don’t move,” came in a hard whisper, and Lee mentally gave himself a swift kick where it would do the most good for coming down here without even his knife for protection. “I won’t hurt you,” the whisper continued as if reading his mind. “Just sit as you were, facing the water.” Lee did as he was told, the whisper so distorted that he couldn’t even tell if it was masculine or feminine. “Who are you?”

“Nobody you want to get near,” Zane was instantly back in character and the threat was evident in his voice.

“I thought...maybe...” That last word was said softly, still whispered, and Lee thought he heard a feminine tone. But rustling told him that whoever it was had scurried off. He took his own deep breath. In his short time here he’d not seen that many women, and the ones he had, he didn’t necessarily want to go anywhere near – most of them looked as rough as the men. He shook his head. Another piece of a jigsaw puzzle he was tasked with putting together without a picture as a guide.

He steadied his brain by working out a shopping list for Ali. His first couple of items were easy: a small underwater torch for eliminating the spot welds on the grate at the bottom of the pipe, and another one for regular use to take out the grate at the top. Hopefully that one is only spot-welded as well, he told himself, but wasn’t holding his breath. The waterproof bag he’d originally swam in with would work as a carry-all. He had a clean weapon, untraceable to either NIMR or even the US, but he’d ask for a small handgun anyway. With luck he could stash it safely away and get fingerprints off of it later to figure out who at least one or two of these people were. He assumed that the other agent already knew, but he’d been screwed up too many times in the past by incorrect assumptions to take anything for granted anymore.

Without warning his solitude was once more interrupted when a young woman broke through the jungle onto the sandy beach about twenty yards away. “Oh,” she all but yelped when she saw Zane, and stopped dead. For a moment neither moved, but Zane almost instantly stood and growled “Who the hell are you?” as he glared at the invader.

“I...ah...” came more sputtering, and she seemed too scared to move. She was about Lee’s age, he guessed, wearing casual slacks and a light blouse. Definitely no one he’d seen before. As Zane continued to glare at her, she took a step back. “I was looking for someone,” came out in a not quite under control voice. “She sometimes goes for a walk in this direction.”

“No one here but me,” Zane continued to glare and growl. The tutor, Lee told himself. And the other was the child? But that makes no sense; I was told the child never leaves the compound. Lee was getting more confused by the minute!

“So I see,” came out a bit more steadily. “Sorry to disturb you,” and the woman disappeared back into the jungle.

Humm, Lee thought. That was interesting. I wonder if my shack was chosen because it was close to this stretch of beach. That lead to all sorts of interesting possibilities and Lee sat most of the rest of the night pondering them, and getting more and more confused. If it had been the child who whispered to him, why would she say ‘I won’t hurt you,’ and order him to stay seated. That made absolutely no sense whatsoever. And it couldn’t have been the woman. Well, Lee admitted, unless she’s a really good actress. Can this get any screwier? He gave the sand a kick with his bare foot before sitting up straight. Be careful what you say, Crane, he scolded himself.

* * * *

After the night of no sleep, Zane was even crankier than usual when Jordan appeared just before 9 am. “Get lost,” Zane growled, trying to get forty winks and figuring, since he’d mostly been left alone during the day, it should be safe.

“We’re expected at Ali’s for breakfast.”

“Enjoy yourself,” Zane muttered, rolled to face the wall, and closed his eyes. Jordan grabbed his arm to pull him off what was supposed to be a bed – a few sacks filled with grasses tossed in the corner of the shack – and instead found himself on the floor, on his stomach, the offending hand twisted behind him and a knee planted in the center of his back. “Do not ever touch me,” came out low, slow, and dangerous. Zane gave the arm an extra yank, dug his knee in a little harder, but stood up. He considered kicking Jordan, just for good measure, but he was still barefoot. “Try that again and I’ll kill you,” came out in the same hard tone.

“Then who would pay you?” Jordan muttered, picking himself up.

“Was doing just fine before you showed up,” Zane growled, still standing straight and glaring at the other man.

“Ali needs your supply list,” Jordan tried a different tactic.

“I know where he lives. He’ll have it this afternoon. Now get out.” Zane’s voice stayed flat and dangerous, and Jordan reluctantly left.

Lee let out the breath he hadn’t been aware that he was holding and slowly relaxed. Not totally; that wouldn’t happen until this whole mess was closed. He did recognize that his lack of sleep was becoming a problem, and he knew that he’d have to remedy that before much longer or he’d become a danger to himself. A single moment of lost focus, a second of indecision, and he could be dead. The first several nights here, once he returned from the bar, he’d only cat-napped, doing most of his sleeping during the day. Once Jordan had made contact Lee hadn’t felt safe and had barely closed his eyes. Restless now, he wandered back outside and scanned the area around the shack. A slight depression at the base of the wall closest to the beach, unnoticed until now, caught his eye and he inspected it a bit closer. The corners of the shack were stabilized on flat rocks settled firmly into the ground. Most of the shack sat on firm rocky ground, but along this wall there was an area of sandy soil that Lee discovered was loosely packed. It was along this wall that the secret areas under the floor were found, and Lee wondered if that’s how the other agent was re-supplying his foodstuffs. Taking a careful look around, he scraped away some of the loosened soil, making a spot just big enough for him to settle in under the floor, well-hidden from prying eyes, and especially after he reached out and brought some of the dirt back in between himself and the outer edge. It was almost more comfortable than the sacks of grass and he fell into a light but needed sleep.

He was awakened several hours later by footsteps over his head. “Where is he?” Lee heard Jordan ask.

“How should I know?” another male voice answered, but Lee didn’t recognize it.

“You were supposed to be watching him,” Jordan said threateningly.

“There hasn’t been any movement since I got here.” Lee figured that he’d already settled under the shack before Jordan posted his lookout, and almost snickered when Jordan let loose a string of epithets.

“He hasn’t been to Ali’s yet,” Jordan finally cut off his swearing. “And he said that he’d be there this afternoon. You can pick him up there. Hide yourself at the beginning of the path. I’ll check at the bar, and look around a few other places.” The footsteps headed out the shack’s door.

Lee stayed where he was. He half-expected one of the men to search around the shack, but no one came into sight over the small mound of loose soil he’d pulled in. Thankfully, what sleep he’d gotten had pretty much recharged his batteries. He smiled as, after waiting an extra ten minutes, he extracted himself and put the sandy soil back the way he’d found it. He regularly drove those around him a little crazy by how little sleep he seemed to thrive on. Comes in handy, he now told himself. He took a quick dip in the ocean to clean up as best he could, shook out his clothes – again just jeans and an open shirt – and headed for Ali’s.

To be perverse, and also to fit ‘Zane,’ Lee took a slightly circuitous route to how Jordan had taken him and decided to sneak up behind the man who was supposed to be tailing Zane. But he was stopped dead just as he started to come up quietly behind the guy – a new face to Lee, not Baker. Suddenly, and why it came to him at that particular moment he had no idea, he was hit with a sudden thought about the previous night’s encounter and he backed off to ponder this new intel. Must have been more tired than I realized, he admitted reluctantly, to have missed that yesterday. If that was the tutor woman, and she was looking for the girl who apparently came to that stretch of beach, why hadn’t they grabbed her then? But was that the tutor? He shook his head in disgust. Over the years he’d semi-gotten used to ONI’s lack of details when given a mission. But this one… He took a couple of deep breaths, tried to focus on the job at hand, and slipped back into ‘Zane’.

He almost had to laugh, how easy it ended up being sneaking up on Jordan’s man. “Pathetic little worm,” Zane growled once he’d grabbed the man and shoved him face first into a tree trunk, one arm yanked behind his back. The guy was apparently so cowed by the swift attack that he barely moved, and was quickly but efficiently searched. Not finding a weapon – which surprised Lee - ‘Zane’ gave him a shove toward the path. “Ali’s, and don’t get cute.” The guy nodded, still saying nothing, and made a beeline for the house, Zane right behind.

Lee had wondered the first time, but now was certain, that there was some sort of surveillance equipment guarding Ali’s house because the instant Jordan’s man opened the gate into the courtyard the front door opened and both Ali and Jordan stepped out. Zane gave Jordan’s man a hard shove, sending him flying face down onto the walkway. “No wonder you haven’t been able to get the girl without help, if this is the kind of idiot you have working for you.” Zane glared at Jordan. He was surprised, although covered it well, when Ali actually laughed.

“Perhaps, Jordan,” Ali turned to the man, “you’d better take Mr. Ashe back to your place.” Jordan turned his glare from Zane to Ali, but the fat man shrugged. “It would appear that both of you might be a distraction, while Mr… ah, Zane,” he corrected himself with a slight nod in Zane’s direction, “and I conduct our business.”

“But...” Jordan started. He stopped at the hard glare Ali turned on him. It took an extra few seconds, but Jordan finally nodded. By that time the other man had picked himself up. They both carefully sidestepped around Zane, who hadn’t moved. No one said anything until the gate was shut, then Zane could hear Jordan start to berate his underling. He almost started to shake his head before he caught himself and turned to face Ali, the glare back on his face.

“Come,” Ali extended his arm toward the house, then turned and entered. Zane nodded and followed, closing the door behind him. Ali continued to walk through the house to the enclosed porch, and once more Zane found it set for a meal, this time apparently a late lunch. There were several bowls with different kinds of salads, another bowl held different kinds of local fruits, cleaned and sliced into bite-sized pieces, and there was a covered chafing dish with something hot. As before, Ali served himself after Zane declined to go first, but this time Zane didn’t hesitate to take what for him was a full meal, especially after discovering that the hot dish held fried chicken. Talk was minimal as both men ate. Sick of nutrition bars, Lee dug in with gusto, and Ali seemed pleased that Zane ate much more than he had the previous day. Lee again had to catch himself, starting to thank Ali for the meal, and merely nodded. I really am tired, Lee told himself and took a deep breath, determined to do a better job staying within the Zane persona.

Once more, when both men had finished eating, Ali led the way to his office. Lee had still not seen any evidence of another person in the house besides Ali. Once settled, Ali behind his desk and Zane in one of the comfortable chairs in front of it, Ali took up a pen and held it expectantly over a pad of paper. “You’re sure that the child never leaves the compound?” Zane asked instead of starting his list of supplies.

“Never,” Ali told him firmly. “Haz is so afraid, even he barely leaves. Why?”

Zane shrugged. “Something I heard.” He sent Ali a look and started listing the few items he’d decided that he’d need. There weren’t many, besides the two small torches to undo the caps on the pipe. He’d considered, and dismissed, several other items. One was chloroform, or another anesthetic, to knock out the girl, making it easier to move her. He’d decided against that just in case he needed to take her back out the way he was going in. He did request a small breathing unit for her. If she wasn’t a swimmer she’d still panic, but he’d cross that bridge when he had to. Ali nodded as Zane explained his reasoning, did pause a moment, then told Zane that it might take him an extra day or so to acquire.

“I ain’t going nowhere.” Zane threw back somewhat disinterestedly. “When do I meet the tutor?”

Ali frowned. “That has proven to be a problem,” he admitted. “Nothing that can’t be resolved,” he quickly added when Zane glared at him. “Mr. Haz has taken it upon himself to require that she stay in the compound, not go home every night.”

“One of Jordan’s idiots said too much to the wrong person,” was Zane’s muttered decision.

“Possibly,” Ali admitted. “Although, we don’t think so.” Zane actually growled. “She is allowed out every few days, to shop and whatever. He’s not actually holding her a prisoner.” Ali almost smiled. “He wouldn’t dare.” There was a smile in his voice and Zane pointed a questioning eyebrow. “It might be a major help, all things considered. She is quite formidable and can, perhaps, help you get the girl out.” Zane shrugged, still frowning. “In any case,” Ali waggled a hand, “you will be notified of developments.” Zane rose to leave. “And you are welcome here anytime,” Ali added.

Zane glared at him. What is he trying to say? instantly went through Lee’s mind. Out loud he grumbled, “Prefer my privacy,” and he turned to leave.

“Understood,” Ali said, and didn’t bother showing Zane to the door.

As a precaution, Lee didn’t take the trails back toward his shack. Instead, he worked his way entirely around the small town and toward the Haz compound. Conscious of surveillance equipment, he carefully didn’t get that close, but tried to get a feel for what was there from every angle he could manage. That was the main reason he wanted to talk to the tutor – she was familiar with what was inside the impressive walls. He, for sure, didn’t want her inside the compound when he went after the girl, for several reasons. Another screwy piece of the puzzle, Lee muttered to himself as he made his way back around the compound. By this time it was close enough to his usual drink time, which he’d actually sort of missed the night before, and softly shook his head at himself. Again taking a different route, he entered the small bar. Not surprised to see Jordan and Baker at their usual table, he completely ignored them and went to his usual stool, his drink instantly put down in front of him. Half turning so his back was to the wall he sipped his drink, all the while casually scanning the other customers. It amused him that, as he was ignoring Jordan, so was Jordan ignoring him.

As he sat, he pondered what to do about the tutor if she were inside the compound when he went after the girl. She, hating Haz, could have an entirely different agenda than Jordan. He didn’t think she’d kill Haz; if so, who would pay the ransom. There’d been no mention of the girl’s mother. But Biaz would be a definite problem when ‘Zane’ changed plans. Maybe he could leave her inside, tied and gagged, and explain that it would hopefully prove to Haz that she wasn’t involved in the kidnapping. “Yeah, that would work,” he mumbled to himself too softly for anyone else to hear.

As watered down as his drinks had been each night, it took him until his third sip to realize that tonight’s drink was nothing more than colored water and he sent a hard look at the bartender. And just as quickly returned his glare to the glass as he realized a possible reason – the bartender was the other ONI agent. It was a cover used before by agents; no one paid much attention to a bartender or waitress, and they frequently overheard all sorts of intel. Could this have been his voice from the jungle? Did I disturb his attempt to restock my food supply by being out on the beach? But that didn’t make sense either because the beach couldn’t be seen from the cabin, and by rights Lee should have been inside sleeping. No matter how good the guy was, Lee would have heard ‘something’ if he was crawling under the floor. Lee had figured all along that whoever was doing it did it while he was here at the bar. Lee shook his head. “Screwier and screwier,” he mumbled under his breath, polished off his scotch-colored glass of water, and left.

Now more confused than ever, he once more settled onto the sandy beach near his shack. This time, however, he didn’t startle so badly when he heard the rustle behind him. But he did stay in character because he couldn’t totally be sure of what was happening. “You’re good,” came the whisper.

“Wouldn’t still be alive if I wasn’t.” Growled, that seemed to be a reasonable ‘Zane’ response. He still couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.

“Don’t trust the woman. She may say she hates Haz but she plans to double-cross everyone. She’ll kill you in the house, or call the guards to do it and expose the others, hoping to claim a large reward for herself.”

“Why should I trust anyone? Especially you, who does nothing but hide?”

“I may not have your bravery, but Jones still trusts me.”

“Who’s Jones?”

There was a soft chuckle. “Like I said, you’re good,” and rustling told Lee that the other agent had once more melted into the jungle. You aren’t so bad yourself, Lee complimented the other agent silently, and pondered this new bit of intel.

It made sense, in a convoluted sort of way. Like everything else about this whole mission – convoluted, Lee thought, and added an out loud “Harrumph.” In the darkness he allowed himself a small smile. The woman wasn’t the only one in this mess not sticking to the program!

* * * *

When Lee came out of the water from his morning swim the next day he had company on the beach – Baker. The man smirked as he realized that ‘Zane’ was defenseless, until he saw the dive knife strapped to Zane’s right calf. Zane sent him a glare as he reached for it, and the smirk died. “Ali’s, 7 o’clock tonight,” Baker mumbled, and practically fled the beach.

Lee allowed ‘Zane’ to laugh out loud, sure that Baker could hear it, and finished walking to where he’d left his towel and clothes. He hadn’t done so much skinny dipping since his Sea Scout boyhood days. The warm water felt good, washed away the accumulated dirt and sweat from the sticky, muggy weather, and unless he felt he needed it, he’d quit wearing the one swimsuit he’d brought. He hoped that this was the meeting with the tutor. That would at least help ‘Zane’ to answer a lot of questions, and hopefully let Lee establish a timeline for what he needed to do to bring this whole mess to a conclusion. What that conclusion happened to be – that was the most troubling part. There weren’t any ‘good guys’ in this story. Well, maybe the child, Lee allowed that thought. But I can’t even count on that, was admitted with a deep frown.

He started to dress, thought better of it and instead, after taking a very careful look around, settled once more in the hidey-hole under the shack. He had a feeling that this might be his last chance at a good sleep. The very last thing he needed happening was blowing his cover in a moment of overly tired indecision, and with all the bits of puzzle running through his brain he’d not slept even the little bit he had been during the night. Feeling much better when he awoke about 1 pm, he took another quick dip before dressing, and had a couple granola bars and some fruit to satisfy a grumbling stomach. Then, curious as well as cautious, he took a meandering route to Ali’s house and found a hiding place well away from where he suspected any security cameras could be pointed, but still have a view of the front gate.

His vigilance paid off, although mostly it added to his confusion. About 3:30 the woman he’d encountered on the beach showed up, hands carrying shopping bags. She walked in like she belonged there, and never left. The one who has been preparing the meals? Lee pondered, then shrugged. “Screwier and screwier,” he muttered under his breath.

About 5 pm Jordan showed up, looking angry. Maybe he went looking for me again, and Lee had to stop himself from snickering. Jordan didn’t stay long, leaving not quite fifteen minutes later and looking even angrier. He’s going to be a problem, Lee told himself. He’d at first assumed that Jordan was the ringleader in whatever plans had been made. And that’s entirely possible how it started. But Lee was convinced that Ali was the key. He was also the wildcard, since Lee had no idea where he fit into this whole mess. That bothered Lee even more than Jordan’s almost unnatural hatred of Haz. There was a story there, for sure. It was bugging Lee, but because Zane wouldn’t care, he didn’t dare ask.

Deciding to be a bit unpredictable, he backed out of his hiding spot and worked himself around to approach the gate shortly before 6:30. As expected, he’d no more than shut the gate behind him when Ali opened the front door. “Welcome,” the big man opened his arms wide. When Zane stopped, Ali sent him a nod and folded his hands over his rotund stomach. “I forgot,” he told Zane almost shyly, and turned and entered the house, Zane following behind. This time, once he’d shut the door behind him, Ali indicated his office instead of the screened porch. “I’m glad that you’re early. Come see if what I’ve gathered will suit your needs.” Laid out on the small table they’d sat around his first time here were a broad selection of items and Zane scanned everything carefully. On one of the chairs was a large, waterproof bag; Zane inspected it, then sorted through the items on the table. Into the bag went the small underwater torch he’d asked for, as well as one for normal use. There were half a dozen small canisters of acetylene used to power both torches, and four were added to the bag. From several handguns Zane selected a .38, with two extra magazines and a silencer, noting Ali nod at his choices. Two small breathing units, very similar to what Lee was used to on Seaview and each holding about fifteen minutes of air, were added to the bag. Zane poked a finger at a small sack of what he could see were smoke bombs, but that remained on the table.

“You’re sure about that,” Ali noted softly, nonconfrontationally.

“I can’t take everything,” Zane grumbled, the waterproof bag getting full. “But I’ll ponder further.” He sent Ali a look and received a nod back. “Duct tape?” he did ask. “Forgot to add that to the list.” Ali grinned, disappeared only a moment, and reappeared with a large roll. Zane picked up the small bag of smoke bombs and, avoiding the opening, carefully wound several yards of tape around the outside. When he felt that he had enough, he laid the full roll on the table and put the smoke bombs with their extra layer into his bag. Closing it, he glanced at Ali.

“Let us go to the porch. Jordan and Miss Biaz should be arriving shortly. You can leave your bag here.”

“Rather keep it with me,” Zane grumbled with a glare.

Ali smiled. “As you wish.” He nodded and lead the way to where they had eaten all their meals together.

“The house diagram you showed me,” Zane didn’t make it a question. “I want to check a few details with the woman.

“Would after dinner be acceptable? I hate discussing business over a meal.” Ali sent Zane a broad smile.

Zane could only nod an agreement. He’d rather spend as little time in this house as possible but apparently that wasn’t an option. And, he told himself, I won’t argue with a good meal. With a large sigh carefully buried he added, I have a feeling that I’m going to need it.

Apparently he hadn’t sufficiently buried the sigh because Ali sent him a look of concern and started to open his mouth. ‘Zane’ sent him a glare and Ali wisely didn’t ask whatever he was about to. The awkward moment was broken when a buzzer sounded; Ali smiled and headed for the front door. The signal for the gate opening, Lee guessed. He sat down in the chair at the table that had his back to the closest wall and allowed him the broadest view of the rest of the room. Lee would have risen when the woman entered, followed by Jordan and Ali. Zane merely sent her a distrusting glare.

About Lee’s age, she had much the same appearance as the woman on the beach and Lee guessed that they were related; possibly sisters, although neither acknowledged the other. Zane didn’t even give a nod when she was introduced. Jordan frowned but the woman, Elise Biaz, took it in stride.

The woman Lee had seen enter the house with bags, presumably Ali’s cook, now entered from what must be the kitchen because she started placing dishes of food on a sideboard. The others continued to stand quietly until all the food seemed to have been brought in. As the others started filling their plates, Zane stayed seated until the others were almost ready to sit down. Finally standing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and filled his own plate.

The others chatted about odds and ends while they ate, basically ignoring Zane until Elise sent him a long look. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Zane sent Ali a quick glance before telling her with a glare, “Ali won’t talk business over a meal.”

“And you’re so self-centered you don’t give a rip about anyone else,” came out in a sneer. “You’re just like Haz. He...”

Zane pushed his plate away and stood up. “Elise, shut up,” Jordan told her.

“You’re the one like Haz – so filled with hate you can’t think straight,” she shot back at him.

Zane remained standing as Elise and Jordan glared at each other. Ali carefully pushed Zane’s plate back where it had been. “Eat, please, all of you,” he said in a calm voice. “Yes, we have much to discuss, but it can wait a bit longer.” Zane kept his glare focused on Elise but did slowly sit back down and continue to eat. He’d been worried that Jordan was going to be a problem, but now realized that Elise had the potential to blow the whole mission to smithereens. Especially if she was anywhere near, or got even a glimmer, when Lee switched from Zane’s plans to his own.

Even Chip can’t put away that much food at one time, Lee carefully controlled his expression as Ali went back for seconds, his plate just as full as it had been the first time. Lee actually ate more than he normally would, but limited his ‘seconds’ to more coffee. It wasn’t nearly as strong as he preferred but was still quite good. Once even Ali seemed sated, the four went to Ali’s office. The items that had been left on the small table had mysteriously disappeared, to be replaced by the two rolled up sheets of paper Lee assumed were the ones he’d been shown before, and sent a look Ali’s direction. The big man merely smiled, and invited everyone to sit down. Zane unrolled the bigger of the two and turned it to face Elise. “Be specific,” he ordered. “Where and what kind of security does Haz have both directly outside the house, as well as inside.”

Other than stiffening at Zane’s order, Elise proved remarkably professional in pointing out everything she knew about Haz’s security measures, as well as guard schedules. Most of the electronic surveillance equipment seemed to be focused on the walls surrounding the estate, which was patrolled irregularly by roaming guards. Zane then wanted confirmation that the bedrooms for Haz and his daughter were correct, where Elise had been assigned quarters, and was she required to stay there every night.

“No,” Elise answered that last question. “I share a small house with my cousin. I don’t know why Haz decided that he wanted me to start staying overnight. But it’s mostly only about half the time. No set pattern that I’ve been able to detect. Tonight I’d told him that I had dinner plans and he seemed not to care.” She shook her head. “I can’t figure him out. Especially lately.”

“Why?” Zane demanded. “What’s changed?” He sent a glare at Jordan. “Has he gotten wind of your intentions?”

“No way,” Jordan sent the glare right back.

“I don’t think so,” Elise continued. “The last month or so, off and on, a man has come, stayed a few hours, then left again. Gabby, ah, Gabrielle,” she clarified, “says she doesn’t recognize him, and her father refuses to say anything about him. Although,” she noted, “he doesn’t include her in any of his affairs so that’s not unusual. He just seems upset each time the guy leaves.”

“You never told me this,” Jordan growled at her.

“I don’t tell you a lot of things,” she snorted right back.

“Please,” Ali stepped into what was obviously an ongoing feud, “can we get back to business, please?”

“What time does the house settle down for the night, and what time do they get up in the morning?” was Zane’s next demand.

“It varies, but by midnight Gabby is always at least in her room. She sometimes reads for a bit.” She shook her head. “Her father, it’s hard to predict. Mostly he goes to his den after dinner. Which is at 7:30,” she quickly added. “The den is attached to his quarters,” she gave a half-point to the drawing. “I have no idea when he actually sleeps. If he sleeps.” She shrugged. “Some mornings I’m not sure.”

“After the visitor,” it was Jordan’s turn to demand, and she sent him another glare.

“Actually, yes,” she finally admitted. “But not always. And like I said, I’m not always there.”

“Why haven’t you gotten a picture of the visitor to Jordan so he could be identified?” Zane’s voice was hard as he glared back and forth at the pair. “That should have been your first priority.”

“Why?” Ali asked before Jordan could explode, as the expression on his face indicated that he was about to.

“It’s an anomaly to the normal routine. The same as you,” he looked at Elise, “being asked to stay overnight.”

“You’re just stalling,” Jordan sneered.

“Damn right,” Zane spit back. “I’m risking my life if something goes wrong. I’ve stayed alive this long by not being stupid and impulsive. I ain’t changing now.”

“Actually,” Ali once more jumped in, “I would have thought of that if you,” he looked at Elise, “had mentioned him before.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important,” she admitted.

“You’re all idiots,” Zane mumbled not quite under his breath. “You said,” went toward Elise, “that he doesn’t seem to come on any regular schedule?”

“No, and he was here two days ago so I wouldn’t expect him for at least several more.”

“Assumption is the mother of all screw-ups,” Zane quoted in a growl. “I suppose we’ll have to skip that. Where do I take the girl when I get her out? Here?” He looked at Ali.

“Absolutely not,” Ali nearly shouted. It was the first time Lee had seen him even slightly out of control.

“How are you going to get her out?” Jordan’s turn to demand. Zane merely shrugged. “I have to know,” Jordan all but screamed.

Zane smiled. He almost laughed out loud at both Ali’s and Elise’s reaction to that smile as both cringed. Jordan didn’t, but he did lean back in his chair. “Haven’t decided yet,” Zane told him, and slouched into his own chair. “Can the girl swim?” he asked Elise.

“Quite well,” she told him with a questioning eyebrow.

“That gives me options,” Zane answered with a shrug.

“I have to know when,” Jordan said with not quite the bluster as before. “I have to have arrangements made.”

“And if I know in advance,” Elise told him, “I can arrange to be there to help. I can slip her something so we know that she’s asleep.”

Zane glared at her. “I don’t remember saying I needed help,” he all but spit out.

“Would that not be an advantage?” Ali asked, in his usual voice of reason.

The glare transferred to the fat man. “Haven’t decided,” Zane said almost calmly. He turned back to Elise. “What I have decided is to leave you bound and gagged,” he told her calmly, “or Haz will blame you for the kidnapping.”

“He will anyway,” she yelled. “And then have me shot. No way! I leave with you.”

Zane said nothing for a bit, but Lee was thinking fast. He definitely needed to move on a night Elise was not in the house. He allowed ‘Zane’ to smile; that would be one way to eliminate Elise if he let Haz’s people deal with her. He’d have to ponder that one. “What would you use to put the girl to sleep? How long would it last?”

Elise looked at Ali. “I will have something for you by the time you return to the compound in the morning,” he told the woman. To Zane he said, “There are several options, from half an hour to several hours.”

“About two hours should be perfect,” Zane told both. He turned to Jordan. “Where do I take her?” he demanded again.

“To your shack,” Jordan tossed back. “When I know what night you’re doing it I’ll arrange to have her picked up there.”

“How much lead time do you need?” Zane asked, almost bored.

“Twenty-four hours,” Jordan answered, his voice now more assured.

Zane nodded, rose, and picked up the bag. “I’ll need a day or so,” he announced, mostly to Ali. “I want to uncap that pipe before I make solid plans.” Jordan frowned but Ali nodded, and Zane left.

The instant Lee felt that he was away from any security cameras he melted into the jungle, then worked back to his earlier hiding place just in time to see Elise and Jordan closing the gate behind them. Jordan reached to take Elise’s arm but she shoved him – hard. “Bugger off,” she growled, and headed with purpose out the pathway. Jordan stood just a moment before he followed more slowly.

No love lost there, Lee told himself. Having already scoped out Jordan when he first got here, tonight Lee carefully followed Elise to a small, well-kept – for this area, anyway – house down the hill from Haz’s compound. Once she’d gone inside Lee carefully approached a window and was able to confirm that the woman on the beach had been the cousin. Well, he told himself, who Elise claims is a cousin, although there was a definite family resemblance. The window was open to let in what little breeze there was, and Lee got the distinct impression that the other woman had no idea what Elise was up to. As before, all business had been conducted in Ali’s office, and the cook hadn’t been seen again once she’d brought the food to the enclosed porch. Lee would have expected some discussion of tonight’s after dinner conversation, and there was none. Elise talked about the foods served, and what she and Ali had chatted about, but no mention of anything else. An innocent? Lee wondered. Shrugging, he let that go and worked his way back to his shack. He was doubly happy now for the meal, and also the equipment he’d been given. He had a busy night ahead!

* * * *

This was the point in the briefing from Admiral Jones where Lee and Admiral Nelson had decided to deviate, at least a bit, from what Admiral Jones had laid out. There was a SEAL team on Guam on Stand-By, waiting for Lee’s signal to HALO jump just offshore and hit the beach where Lee had come ashore. When Nelson had dropped Lee off, they’d found a spot hidden among some rocks on the bottom where they could stash, well water-proofed, communications gear, scuba equipment that Lee hadn’t wanted to bring ashore, and half a dozen other items. Both were thankful for the backup, but Lee couldn’t call them in too soon or the whole mission would implode. He also couldn’t wait until the last minute because there was too much chance of Lee getting caught in the middle. Lee was especially concerned, now that a Libyan connection had been revealed; he had a feeling that the kidnapping and ‘sale’ of the girl was also connected to the shipment of arms in all likelihood changing hands at the same time.

Once at the shack he quickly changed into his swim trunks and, taking the new equipment with him, swam out and slipped into the scuba gear he’d stashed. He wished, now that he knew more, he’d have thought to bring a re-breather unit instead of regular tanks, but didn’t expect that to be a major issue in the dead of night. A shudder suddenly ran through his body. Gotta find a better expression than that. ‘Dead’ isn’t something I want to think about.

Making the swim to the bottom of the pipe, it was actually a fairly quick process to remove that grating since, with the scuba, he didn’t have to free dive down and have to keep coming up for air. He figured that Ali assumed that’s why he’d wanted the small air masks but he had other uses for those. Slipping out of his tanks, he took in several deep breaths and then headed into the pipe with the other torch.

He’d been right; approximately thirty feet of water, same as the depth at the bottom, and he hit open air. Stale, to be sure, and not smelling all that pleasant, but he’d found himself in worse places. The angle of the pipe made climbing a bit of a challenge, and he almost giggled when an image hit his brain. One of his visits to Chip’s sister’s place north of San Francisco had been just a few weeks before Christmas, and Chip’s then five-year-old nephew, Degan, had insisted that they watch the cartoon version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” over and over. This pipe reminded Lee of the Grinch getting momentarily stuck coming down Cindy Lou Who’s chimney; that’s basically how Lee maneuvered in the pipe, only reversed. He did have to be careful; the inside of the pipe was rusty and rough on his bare skin. Should have thought of that and worn a shirt, he muttered to himself as he inched his way upward.

Reaching the upper end, Lee was thankful that this cap had only been spot-welded like the lower one. Someone was either lazy, or in a hurry, he thought as he quickly had that cap loose. Setting it aside, he reached high enough to test the wooden cover to the concrete box that end of the pipe was in. He hadn’t totally believed Elise when she’d said it wasn’t latched, but it raised easily to his touch. He only moved it an inch; Elise had said that guards, while not on a regular patrol route, did walk the grounds at night. Lee settled the wooden cover back in place, then did the same to the metal grate on the end of the pipe before carefully climbing back down. He was glad that he couldn’t scream when he hit the water; he’d obviously scratched up his back worse than he thought and the salt water stung – a lot! By the time he hit bottom and grabbed his air mask, he’d decided to simply carry his tank back to its hiding place instead of strapping into the harness, his back hurt that much. It made the swim more awkward but he didn’t want to put the extra pressure on the scratches. Thankfully, once he’d hidden everything carefully back where it had been the pain had mostly stopped. He was also thankful that NIMR’s CMO kept him current with a tetanus vaccination and he swam somewhat lazily back to what he was coming to think of as ‘his’ beach.

Tonight it wasn’t only his. Thankful that he’d taken a quick look through his snorkel mask while still a fair distance away, he discovered two men standing, facing the ocean in the direction he’d be coming from if he’d come directly from the pipe. Lee immediately ducked down and eventually got to the beach from the opposite direction. Again armed with nothing more than his dive knife, he came out of the water quietly, slightly hidden by some bushy ferns, pulled out his knife, and stepped into view. He’d finally recognized the men as Jordan and Baker. He laughed out loud when Baker, the first to see him, took a step to put Jordan between he and ‘Zane’. “Forget something?” Zane asked casually.

Jordan seemed flustered to discover Zane coming from the wrong direction but covered it quickly with a “Where’s the bag Ali gave you,” demand.

“Where it won’t be found,” Zane told him, keeping the knife in his hand. He stared at Jordan, waiting for whatever the man came for. Jordan, however, remained quiet. Zane had no intention of breaking the silence, knowing that he was making Jordan all the more nervous by remaining motionless and quiet.

Baker was the first to break. “Boss?” came almost in a whisper, breaking the stalemate.

“Shut up,” Jordan threw in that man’s direction before turning back to Zane. “You’re going tomorrow night.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Zane told him flatly.

“Why? It has to be tomorrow night.”

“Then get yourself someone else,” Zane continued to remain motionless.

Again Jordan seemed flustered. Unused to having his orders ignored, Lee told himself. “When?” finally came out in what Jordan no doubt intended as an order, but it lacked authority.

“Perhaps the next night,” Zane told him offhandedly. “Perhaps the night after that.” He shrugged. “Haven’t made up my mind.”

“No later than two days,” came out with a little more power.

“You’ve waited this long, why the hurry? What’s changed?”

“Nothing,” Jordan growled. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Zane shrugged again. “Then do it yourself,” he all but goaded the man. His stance was relaxed, but he noted with satisfaction that Jordan hadn’t missed his hand clutching the knife just a bit tighter. “I won’t be hurried.”

Jordan opened his mouth but nothing came out. Zane did nothing, merely stood quietly, and the stalemate lasted for what felt like minutes but could only have been about thirty seconds before Jordan turned so quickly that he ran into Baker, still standing behind him. Something was growled too low to hear clearly and the two men left.

Lee took a deep breath. “Geesh,” came out in a whisper as he finally allowed himself to relax, at least partially. He was realizing just how unstable Jordan was, and an unstable man was a dangerous man. Not that Lee had any doubts about that, really. But the man who had just left was not the same man he’d met those nights ago as he left the bar; who had offered him work. That man had been sure of himself, relaxed, and under control.

Tonight, Jordan’s nervousness was making Lee nervous. Not good, he told himself, and pondered his options. He really hated letting Jordan dictate a timetable. Something had changed and Lee needed to know what. He for sure wasn’t going to get that from Jordan. At least not willingly.

Hurrying to his shack, to change and pick up a couple items he’d carefully hidden away when he’d first gotten there, he took a long look around the shack, to make as sure as he could be that he wasn’t being watched, and melted into the heavy undergrowth. Because he knew from Admiral Jones who his primary target was, before he’d established his ‘routine’ of going to the bar each night, then back to his solitary life at the shack, he’d instead spent the first couple of nights learning where Jordan lived; or, at least, spent most of his time. He’d had to be extremely careful; ‘Zane’ wouldn’t care about anyone but himself as he established his character of the fugitive ex-SEAL. Lee had learned from Admiral Jones only that Jordan didn’t seem to ‘live’ anywhere on a permanent basis. He had several places where he spent time, but rarely more than a few hours at a time in any one of them, and didn’t move around in any sort of pattern. But there was one place Jordan went to more often than the others, and that’s where Lee headed tonight. It was dangerous because it was over the bar, with only two ways to enter; through the bar, or up a back staircase. No way could Lee get close without being seen. Which made sense as Jordan’s headquarters. As late as it was tonight, or rather, early in the morning, Lee chose to settle into some shrub bushes where he could watch the back stairway, and keep his fingers proverbially crossed.

It was, however, wasted effort. Lee had to call it quits in time to get back to his shack before it got light, and in that time there had been absolutely no indication of activity in the upstairs rooms. “Bummer,” Lee muttered to himself, and carefully made his way back to his shack. Needing sleep, he was loath to use the quasi-mattress inside and chose instead to use his new hidey-hole underneath. He crawled in just as the sun was coming up and a few words slipped out that he normally wouldn’t use. Although, he mused with half a grin, I’m sure Zane would. As he crawled in he saw a small slip of paper. At first it looked blank, but on closer inspection he noticed pinholes here and there. Holding it up to the light he could only shake his head; in Morse Code, the holes turned into “E.T. phone home”, and a snort escaped. “So much for sleep,” he mumbled. His swim trunks still soggy, he nonetheless pulled them on since there was no telling who he’d run into either coming or going, strapped on his dive knife and made his way, not to the beach but where he’d come ashore when he’d discovered Jordan waiting for him earlier. Once in the water he was immediately reminded of his scratched up back, and half a dozen swear words went silently through his brain before he swam in circles for a bit, to make sure there wasn’t anyone else anywhere near, then headed to his stashed equipment. Attaching a communication-equipped mask to his air tanks, he turned it on. “Knock, knock?” he asked softly.

There as an answering chuckle, but Nelson’s voice when he spoke was serious. “Trouble.”

“I was getting that vibe.”

“I can pull you out right now.”

Lee hesitated. “Is there any way I can still be of help?”

Again the soft chuckle. “Any clue where the stolen munitions are being held?”

“Sorry, no.”

“There’s been a small freighter headed your direction. I tried to scope it out as I passed, but nothing stood out as a problem.” Lee had known Nelson had to be fairly close since the dive channel on the mask had a limited range.

“That explains a couple things,” Lee admitted, and explained the changes in Jordan’s mood. “He’s obviously being pressured to produce what he promised.”

“Who’s this Ali person?”

“Chip in a few years, if his over-active metabolism ever shuts down,” Lee grumbled. At Nelson’s snort he continued. “Don’t have a clue.” They were both silent for a bit. “Sounds like I’d better go tomorrow night,” Lee finally said.

“You won’t be alone,” Nelson assured him.

“Appreciate that,” Lee said a sigh. A though suddenly hit Lee’s brain. “Sir, any chance you happen to have a tranq gun handy?” He was referring to the guns Nelson had invented that shot tranquilizer darts instead of bullets.

“Just happen to have brought a couple,” Nelson replied, a smile in his voice. “Didn’t think about them until after I’d dropped you off.

“Same here,” Lee admitted.

“You’ll find them with the rest of your gear in a few hours.”

“Thanks,” Lee told him sincerely, and they both broke the connection. He half-grinned as he made his way, once more circuitously, back to his shack. Nelson obviously had broken down and had a talk with Admiral Jones. That’s the only way the message could have been passed to him to use the dive channel to reach Nelson. That meant that Nelson had come back in FS1, since Seaview wouldn’t be in shape to sail this quickly. He assumed that it also meant that Nelson, from his comment about help, was going to pick up the SEAL team and have them close by. Or possibly, Nelson wasn’t the only person in FS1, although there had been no hint of that. That thought gave Lee a measure of relief. He wasn’t out of danger; both Jordan and Elise were too unpredictable to be safe around. He momentarily stopped walking. Or he means that he’ll be there to help me, he told himself, then shrugged. Either way, a good thing. One step at a time, and he sighed heavily. Once back at the shack, after another major look around now that he knew Jordan was having him watched at least part of the time, he crawled back under the shack and tried to get some sleep. It wasn’t easy.

* * * *

Whether because he now knew that he wasn’t totally on his own, or just because he was bordering on exhaustion from all the stress, whatever the reason Lee slept nearly eight hours. Almost unheard of for him, unless Jamie got sneaky with one of his cocked and loaded syringes. That thought actually caused Lee to smile. Despite the sniping that was their usual form of communication, Lee had great respect for Seaview’s CMO, and valued their strong friendship. It was, in fact, those bonds of trust, in each other, that allowed the sniping to exist.

With those pleasant thoughts still in his brain, Lee almost dug himself out of his hidey-hole without checking his surroundings. But some sense, be it sixth or sixtieth, stopped him just in time. A shadow crossed the small opening he left between sand and shack and Lee all but held his breath. No sound accompanied the shadow until a small squeak of floorboard indicated that someone had entered the shack. Whoever it was, they were extremely careful, but Lee caught just enough indicators to realize that the shack was being searched. Carefully slipping out and returning the sand to its original condition, he was standing just outside the shack’s door when the person exited.

“Find anything of interest?” he asked casually, and had the satisfaction of watching Elise startle badly.

“I was…”

“I don’t care,” Zane cut her off with a snarl. “Get out,” came in as nasty a voice as Lee could manufacture and he took a step toward her, his dive knife that he’d never taken off now in his hand. Zane laughed heartily at her back as she took off running. But once she was out of sight Lee had to take some serious deep breaths to steady himself. Tonight, he told himself. Guns or no guns, I have to get the girl out tonight. I can’t take much more of this.

After a quick dip in the water to wash off, he dressed in his usual ‘uniform’ of jeans and open shirt, and headed to Ali’s. He made no effort to hide his route, and was met as usual by the rotund man as he entered the outer gate.

“Welcome, Zane,” Ali opened wide his arms, grinned sheepishly, and folded them over his enormous belly. “What a pleasant surprise. Come in. Dinner is not quite ready, but we can visit over a drink while appetizers are prepared.”

“No time,” Zane growled. “Tell Jordan my shack, 4 am, day after tomorrow. And he’d better have my money.” He glared at Ali.

Ali smiled broadly. “With pleasure. Jordan will be most pleased. As will I,” he added. A small frown briefly crossed his face. “We would have preferred tonight,” was added softly.

“No,” Zane told him flatly, turned, and started to leave before abruptly turning back. “And tell Ms. Biaz to stay the hell out of my cabin.” That got a startled ‘Oh’ from Ali, but Zane didn’t wait for anything further and left, slamming the gate shut. That ought to stir everyone up, he told himself as he stalked away.

While waiting for his usual time to head for the bar for his evening drink he kept watch for any unwanted visitors and carefully went through the shack, bagging anything he didn’t want to leave behind in the waterproof pouch he’d came ashore with. Once he got back from the bar he was headed to his underwater stash. He could be fairly sure that Jordan, now knowing Zane’s timetable, would arrange transfer of the weapons as quickly as possible so that, once he had the girl – and no doubt figured to eliminate Zane – the small freighter could immediately leave the area. Lee was hoping that the SEALs could take charge of the ship, hopefully in the middle of the exchange. Lee would take the girl to FS1, where she’d be safe while Lee came ashore just long enough to grab Jordan. He’d like to get his hands on Ali, as well as the rest of Jordan’s band, but he’d have to be satisfied with what he could get. If he was really lucky, the SEALs would catch Jordan with the stolen weaponry. But he wasn't counting on being that lucky.

Lee pondered, as he took a last look around, if he should forego his evening drink, but decided against the idea. It would be an anomaly and he didn't want to give Jordan any reason to doubt Zane's timetable. He was already going to mess with Jordan's head when he discovered, which no doubt he would by morning, Zane’s having taken the girl tonight instead of tomorrow night, and was counting on that so scrambling Jordan’s plans that he’d be less able to quickly change strategies. On the other hand, Lee admitted as he headed for the bar, it could also make him that much more dangerous. Lee allowed himself to shrug; one step at a time. It’s how he’d lived most of his life - plan when he could, and handle the chaos in whatever manner presented itself.

Jordan had apparently already gotten the message, as Lee figured he would by telling Ali, because he had a smug expression on his face when he spotted Zane entering the bar. He looked, Lee noted, more like the man Zane had originally met, not the almost out-of-control person of their last couple of meetings.

Once more Lee’s drink was mostly colored water, and once more Lee questioned the identity of the bartender. But silently, without a second glance beyond the quick nod he always gave the man. As impatient as he was feeling, he ordered himself to act as he had every other night and almost had to time himself not to hurry. There really wasn’t any urgency; he didn’t want to get to the top of the pipe before midnight. Keeping to his normal pace he ambled back to the shack, lit a candle for a few minutes then blew it out, as if he was preparing for bed. Waiting – impatiently – for just over half an hour, he changed into his swim trunks, grabbed the bag and his snorkel and mask, and carefully opened the door a crack. He kept watch on what he could see for nearly ten minutes, mentally crossed his fingers that he wasn’t being watched, and quickly slipped into the surrounding jungle where he again held perfectly still another ten minutes or so. When nothing moved, and the only sounds he heard were normal for that time of night, he made for the beach and his stash of supplies.

He had a surprise – a bright yellow one. Nelson must have seen him approach on FS1’s sonar because the bottom hatch was already open when Lee got to it. “Permission to come aboard,” he said as he poked his head up, and Nelson’s answering chuckle was his answer.

“Problems?” the Admiral did ask.

“Decided to scramble Jordan’s brain a little and get the girl out of harm’s way early. Was going to call you, hoping that you were close enough to hear.”

“Settled the SEALs near enough to the freighter for them to deal with, and figured hanging out here was as good as anywhere else,” Nelson told him.

Lee nodded as he settled himself in the co-pilot’s chair. “I’m thinking the weapons will be shifted tonight under cover of darkness and the freighter will hang close until they get the girl tomorrow night.” Lee sent his boss a firm look. “That’s not happening,” he growled, and Nelson’s expression was also firm. “Have no idea how she’s going to handle being here,” he indicated FS1, “until we can sort everything out. But all things considered, I also don’t think she’s safe in her father’s house until Elise Biaz is dealt with.”

“I have to agree,” Nelson told him.

“I’m really hoping that she got the word I’m supposed to go tomorrow night, and won’t be there tonight.”

“I assume that’s why you wanted the tranq gun.”

Lee nodded. “One reason, anyway. I still have Haz’s guards to deal with.”

Nelson glanced at Lee’s swim suit. “I swiped a couple of camo wet suits from the SEALs,” he told Lee with a grin.

“Still have any rolls of heavy-duty duct tape in the cabinet over there?” Lee waved a hand at one of FS1’s storage units. “I could really use an extra layer of protection on my back, and maybe my knees and feet. The inside of that pipe has seen better days.” Together they laid one of the wetsuits flat on the deck and reinforced several areas with the tape. It would stiffen those places, making it a little more difficult for Lee to easily move, but he was more concerned about putting holes in the neoprene, thus rendering the wetsuit almost dangerous to wear by filling with water as he tried to make his exit. Nelson had given a bit of a grumble when he first caught sight of Lee’s back, still heavily scratched. Lee had actually somewhat forgotten about it, since it hadn’t stung all that badly on this trip underwater. “Up-to-date on my tetanus,” he murmured at his boss.

“Harrumph,” Nelson answered, but the subject was dropped as they finished the project. “While you get the girl,” he added once Lee was satisfied with their handiwork, “I’ll collect what’s left of the gear we stashed and park closer to the end of the pipe.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll have to leave the tanks and communication mask at the bottom so I won’t be able to keep in contact,” Lee added, almost a bit hesitantly.

Nelson nodded. “One disaster at a time,” he told his young captain.

“As usual,” Lee agreed, and started putting on the wetsuit.

But he hesitated before he dropped out FS1’s bottom hatch, and Nelson sent him a quick nod. “Still time to back out,” Nelson told him softly.

Lee half-smiled at the caring obvious in his boss’ voice, but shook his head. “I started it, I’ll finish it,” he said firmly, as much to convince himself as Nelson. “I keep thinking about the girl, and I don’t want her to become Jordan’s pawn.”

“Understood,” Nelson agreed. Lee took a deep breath and dropped out the hatch.

Slipping into his regular scuba gear he sent Nelson a quick com check, then grabbed the bag of supplies he’d gotten from Ali, along with the small bag containing a tranq gun and half a dozen darts that Nelson had left for him, and swam rapidly to the bottom end of the pipe. He tried, with limited success, to calm suddenly frayed nerves as he shook off his tanks, keeping the mask in place while he attached the two bags to a waist belt. Several deep breaths, then he turned off the tank, dropped the mask, and headed up the pipe.

He hesitated again once his head barely broached the water lever in the pipe, breathing in the rank air but not making any attempt to climb, waiting to try and gage if there might be anyone waiting for him at the top. If there was, they were being as careful and quiet as he was and he finally started the climb, immediately thankful for the wetsuit plus added layers of protective tape.

He hesitated again at the top before shifting the grate, but everything remained quiet and he lifted himself out of the pipe but remained in the box, still listening before barely cracking the lid. All was quiet, but he wedged a small rock to keep the lid open a bare half inch and again waited, watching the part of the estate’s back yard that he could see. After several minutes he caught motion halfway across the area he could see, and figured that it was one of Haz’s roving guards. Thankful that Haz didn’t have dogs as well – Elise had told him the girl was allergic – he finally eased out of the box but remained next to it. There were no major yard lights, just a bit of illumination from several windows in the house, plus light from a half moon. Lee’s eyes quickly adjusted and, keeping watch around him, made his way toward the back entrance to the house, tranq gun in hand.

A word Lee rarely used breathed out as he saw Elise walk past one of the lighted windows close to the back door and his hand briefly tightened on the gun. But he stayed where he was, partially hidden in some shrubs about ten feet from the door, trying to get a read on the guard’s movements through the yard. In that respect he got lucky; as Elise had said, the man didn’t seem to have a set pattern. But he did spend most of his time closer to the land side of the walled estate and pretty much ignored the water side. That actually made sense, but helped Lee greatly. If it’s not a trap, came unbidden into his brain. He didn’t think so, because Jordan wanted the girl. But this whole mission was so screwy Lee wasn’t about to take anything for granted!

His first job – well, after getting into the house – was taking out Elise. The tranq gun would be useless because, unlike what happened on TV and in movies, they didn’t work immediately. As wound tight as the woman was, there was no way to predict what she’d do the instant she felt the dart. In all likelihood she’d scream, or at least start yelling obscenities, and ruin everything. On the other hand, Lee suddenly thought, maybe I’ll grab her and leave the girl here, where she’s safe. An absolutely wicked smile started to spread over Lee’s face. The SEALs have the freighter. If I neutralize Elise, Jordan won’t be notified that I didn’t get the girl. The more he pondered this new plan, the better he felt. I can leave Elise with Admiral Nelson and perhaps sneak in and get Jordan. Well, he admitted, if the SEALs don’t grab him with the weapons. Nothing had been said, but Lee figured that they would keep Nelson apprised of their progress. He grinned; knowing his boss, Nelson had no doubt made it clear to the SEALs that they’d better keep him in the loop!

Suddenly breathing a whole lot easier than he had been even a few minutes earlier, Lee felt his body relax more than it had since this whole mess began. Not yet, he reminded himself. But his new plan of action made so much more sense than the original one. Still not easy, he admitted. Don’t get careless now, he warned himself.

First step, get into the house undetected. Easing over to the door while still keeping watch both for the guard he knew was wandering around the yard, any so far that he hadn’t spotted, and staying out of the lights from the several windows close by, wasn’t going to be easy. The camo wetsuit would help, but there were no handy bushes within ten feet either side of the door. Good for security, not so good for Lee. He kept his eyes out for any sign of a motion-activated light. Elise said that there wasn’t one but Lee wasn’t going to totally depend on her for anything. On this, however, she seemed to have been accurate, as Lee could find no sign of any light close to the door; not even one activated from inside. They must not walk outside at night, he thought.

Movement by the far wall around the yard froze Lee from any further inspection of the area around the back door. The wandering guard decided to wander a little closer to that area of the back yard, and Lee decided that he’d need to take care of that person first. To that end he settled deeper into the shrubbery until the guard, in his ambling way, turned so his back was mostly to Lee. Taking another look at the house, Lee scurried to the bushes on the other side of the door, this time closer to where the guard was patrolling. It was also the side of the door where more windows were lit, but Lee stayed low against the house and hoped that his movement wasn’t spotted. No alarms sounded as he settled into that set of shrubs and he took a deep breath to help steady his nerves.

He'd noticed that the guard – or who he assumed was a guard although he was dressed in normal street clothes for the region instead of any kind of uniform, and Lee hadn’t spotted any weapons – had slapped at his neck a couple of times as he walked, and assumed that he was smacking bugs. They hadn’t bothered Lee much in the time that he’d been here, although he’d been well aware of them. Tonight, in his wetsuit complete with hood, he barely noticed them, but they were for sure bothering the guard. Lee needed to get close enough so that his dart would feel like a particularly obnoxious bug bite. Lee needed to get to the man before he realized that this ‘bug’ was a different variety, and Lee could control him until the drug took effect. It wouldn’t take more than about ten to fifteen seconds – Nelson had developed a very fast-acting drug. But Lee knew that way too much could happen in those seconds, and he couldn’t risk the guard sounding an alarm. Lee got impatient – and also slightly worried – when it took the guard a lot longer to return this time, and then cursed silently when he did reappear, but on the side where Lee had been first. Lee had been so focused on the wall side of the yard that he hadn’t been watching the ocean side. He berated himself ‘up one side and down the other’, as his mother would say, and that thought brought a small smile back to his face. He watched patiently as the guard meandered slowly past the box that held the upper end of the pipe without giving it a second thought, continuing down to the house, and slowly right past Lee as he made his way casually back to the street side of the yard.

Lee let the guard get several feet past him before aiming carefully and nailing the back of the man’s neck right below his left ear. As the guard reached back, Lee was ready to incapacitate the man just as his hand hit the dart instead of a bug. In moments Lee had him dragged back into the bushes and taped up so that, even when he did wake up from the drug in an hour or so he’d be unable to do more than wiggle around, and mumble through the tape over his mouth. For good measure Lee also put tape over his eyes so he would be totally disoriented. Lee gave himself an imaginary chalk mark. One down. A quick nod and he returned to his primary objective, although still keeping an eye on the yard. There’d been no indication of a second guard but he couldn’t take anything for granted, especially now that a good bit of his intel came from Elise, who he didn’t trust in the least!

He did wonder why he’d seen her by the window earlier. From her map, that part of the house was servant’s quarters, kitchen, and storage places for the most part, and she’d indicated that the room she’d been assigned to when she stayed overnight was close to the daughter’s quarters. And especially this time of night when she should be fast asleep. Perhaps she’d come to the kitchen for a snack, Lee theorized. She’d been fully dressed when he saw her, and saw her only that once. Fingers figuratively crossed, he eased over to the back door.

While there was still light coming through several windows, Lee was starting to suspect that those were lights intentionally left on all night since the only person he’d caught sight of inside was Elise. Once more practically holding his breath, he lay almost flat against the side of the house, reached up, and turned the door handle. Locked – which Lee was expecting, and prepared for. Tucked into a small outside pocket of one of the bags he carried was his lockpick tools. For all of Haz’s fears, his house had simple locks and Lee had it picked in mere moments. Again almost flat, to limit his profile should there be someone on the other side, he reached up and eased open the door a few inches. When no sounds reached his ears from inside, he snaked forward and pushed the door open enough to stick his head in. A quick look showed him a small empty hall; what at home he’d call a mud room, and he slipped in. He put a small piece of tape over the locking mechanism before quietly shutting the door, just in case. He didn’t remember this room from Ali’s diagram but, rather than be angry he mentally shrugged his shoulders. Just like ONI, he mumbled silently. Bad intel, and, still staying low because most often the bad guys expected people to be standing up, he moved to the closed door at the other end of the smallish space, all the while looking around for motion sensors and/or silent alarms. If this guy Haz is so paranoid, he sure doesn’t have a great security system, Lee thought. On the other hand, Lee decided that he probably thought, out here in the boonies, as it were, tall fences and patrolling guards were enough. Or, Lee pondered, I’m walking straight into a trap. He shrugged. Too late to turn back now, and once more staying low, opened the next door a few inches.

Now he was more comfortable as he found himself in the kitchen, and Ali’s diagram started to make more sense. The room had a couple of small lights on but was by no means bright. Lee glanced at his watch and discovered that he’d spent more time in the yard than he thought; it was just after 0200 hours. Hustle your butt, Crane, he chastised himself. Not that he could give up being cautious, but time was definitely getting away from him.

Thankfully, at this hour, the house appeared to be totally quiet, with everyone sound asleep. Lee didn’t let down his guard, but moved a little more rapidly toward where he’d been shown was the girl’s room, and also the one Elise was using, thankful now that he’d come to Elise’s first. This part of the house was not totally dark since there was a bit of moonlight coming in from the occasional windows, but at least no other lights were on. There was no unnatural light showing through the small space under Elise’s bedroom door, but once more Lee laid almost flat on the floor before reaching up and turning the knob ever so slowly.

He got extremely lucky. Chip frequently sputtered and fussed about Lee’s having lots of dumb luck, with an emphasis on ‘dumb.’ Whatever the reason, Lee never took it for granted. A quick glance showed Elise not in bed, but fully dressed and sitting in a chair. However, she had apparently allowed herself to relax enough to fall asleep, and didn’t notice Lee ease into the room. Dart in hand instead of using the gun, Lee got into position slightly behind the woman and, while his left hand reached around and clamped over her mouth, also keeping her firmly in the chair, his right drove the dart into her neck next to her carotid artery where it would take effect the fastest. By the time Elise could figure out what was happening it was too late, and she gradually relaxed into the chair with barely a whimper. Lee quickly walked over and shut the door before he got to work.

Using plastic zip ties, he tied Elise’s hands in front of her body. He wanted to be able to raise the woman’s arms over her head, and hold her in that position as he put her ahead of him – or rather, below him – to get back down the pipe. Like the guard she’d be out for about an hour, but Lee wasn’t taking any chances and bound her legs together with tape, as well as covering both her mouth and eyes, although he only used a short strip over her mouth because he’d need to take it off to put the breathing unit in while they were in the water. He had every expectation that when she woke up she’d be a bearcat, and wanted to make sure that both he, and Nelson, had complete control. He also quickly searched her, discovering a knife, like his dive knife, on her right calf, and a small pistol in the pocket of the light jacket she was wearing. Both went into his equipment bag before he took a peek out the door. He pondered briefly if he should go out the window, but a quick look showed that it would in all likelihood make a loud squeal if he tried to open it any further than the few inches it was already, so his safest route was back through the house. With Elise draped over his shoulders in a ‘Fireman’s Carry’ his exit went a whole lot smoother, and faster, than his entrance. A quick glance at his watch once he was back at the box covering the pipe showed 0310 hours.

A thought ran briefly through Lee’s brain as he laid Elise down inside the box, and he carefully but swiftly headed to where he’d stashed the guard. If he left the man the way he was, everyone would know that someone had entered the property. Lee quickly removed the bit of tape he’d used over the back door lock, then he untied and untapped the man; after what Elise had said when Lee had mentioned leaving her tied up when he took the girl, with any luck the guard would be so scared of punishment that he’d keep quiet. If Lee was really lucky, Haz might think that Elise snuck out on her own. Yeah, like that will work, Lee muttered to himself as he scurried back to the pipe. But one can hope. He quickly fitted one of the breathing units into Elise’s mouth, securing it in place with tape so that it was snug between her teeth and over her nose. Then he attached a short piece of rope to her wrist ties and lowered her into the pipe. He did take the time to settle the grid on that end of the pipe before making his way down, holding Elise just below his feet.

Lee wasn’t sure he’d ever been as glad as he was a few minutes later to see FS1 patiently waiting for him close to the bottom of the pipe. He popped his head briefly through the bottom hatch. “Small change of plans,” he told Nelson, slid back down, and lifted Elise far enough up so that Nelson could help get her into the small craft before quickly following her. As he pulled in the scuba tank he’d used earlier but hadn’t needed now, he told Nelson his reasoning. He helped retie Elise’s hands behind her back and, with tape once more securely over her mouth, they wrapped her in a couple layers of blanket and strapped her into FS1’s bunk.

“I like that plan,” Nelson agreed. “Despite your ability,” and he sent Lee a grin and a nod, “to get into the property, the child seems just as safe there as anywhere.”

“And with Elise wrapped up, Jordan won’t know it’s not the girl until it’s too late,” Lee agreed. “I do have to figure out how to tell him I went a night early, to coax him to my hut.” He shrugged. “One mess at a time. Have you heard from the SEALs?” The words were barely out of his mouth before FS1’s radio crackled.

Nelson grinned as he reached over and attached his throat mic. “Nelson,” was all he said.

“Weapons transferred. We’ve got control of the freighter plus both crews. No intel leaked as far as we can tell.”

“Excellent,” Nelson told whoever he was talking to. “We are still hoping to grab Jordan.”

“Will await further instructions,” and both men ended the call.

A grin slowly crossed Lee’s face, and Nelson raised an eyebrow. “You don’t suppose one of the SEALs could manage, pretending to be a crewman, letting Jordan know I ‘got the girl’ tonight?”

A matching grin hit Nelson’s face and he quickly called the SEAL back. Whoever he was, the SEAL caught on immediately, and promised that the ‘accidental intel’ would go out immediately, in such a way that Jordan would never know how the ‘crewman’ got access to the news.

As Nelson took FS1 back toward the shack, but closer in and further east, more toward the secondary beach landing Lee had been using once he knew that he was being occasionally watched, he and Lee made plans. Nelson was all for going shore with Lee, but Lee put him off, saying that he’d rather Nelson stay aboard FS1 in case Elise woke up unexpectedly. Lee had no intention of taking her ashore, and instead wrapped a couple of dive tanks in blankets to halfway resemble a body. It wouldn’t fool anyone for very long, but it didn’t have to. Lee was sure that Jordan wouldn’t come alone, expecting to kill ‘Zane’ and grab the girl. But Lee had plenty of darts left, plus his regular weapon – although he’d rather not use that unless he had to. And with the addition of the camo wetsuit he was still wearing, he’d have enough of an advantage that he figured he could handle the meet on his own. Nelson didn’t argue. At least not too much. He wasn’t overly happy but trusted Lee’s judgement, and abilities, enough to agree with the plan. Once they had Jordan, and anyone else Lee could get his hands on, they’d transfer everyone to the freighter for the SEALs to handle, and no one except they and ONI would ever know NIMR personnel were involved.

Nelson did make one request, although the way he phrased it, Lee sent him a quick, sheepish grin acknowledging that it was more order, that Lee take a walkie-talkie ashore with him in his waterproof pouch. Lee had no problem with that ‘request’ and tucked the instrument into the bag now that he didn’t have to worry about it being too big to fit through the narrow pipe along with everything else still in it.

Lee took the precaution of coming ashore even further east than he had been, and carefully looking around before moving the ‘girl’ to the edge of the small beach against a handy tree, then finding a spot from which he could watch the shack. The camo wetsuit gave him a distinct advantage, as well as hopefully catching Jordan off guard with the change in timetable. Lee was counting on both, but still unwilling to totally depend on either.

He did have to smile, although without a bit of humor, when a man Lee hadn’t seen before came sneaking through the trees and underbrush. Not taking any chances about him being not involved, Lee dropped him with a dart. He was surprised when the man didn’t cry out to alert any others, but if he was as well-trained as Lee suspected he was, it kind of made sense. If the man was ex-military, he’d be trained not to give away other members of his unit.

He wasn’t quite as lucky with the second one, then realized that it was Baker, who hadn’t impressed Lee with much previous military training. He yelled when his hand felt the dart, but dropped before anyone else got to him. That man Lee missed, unfortunately, and he flattened and got off a shot, in Lee’s general direction but luckily way off target.

“Zane?” came in what Lee recognized as Jordan’s voice. Lee chose not to answer and remained very still, his camo outfit blending beautifully into his hiding spot. “Where’s the girl? I have your money,” Jordan called once more, his voice this time more self-assured.

Several options ran through Lee’s mind. He could toss a roll of tape so that it landed well away from him, and hopefully draw enough gunfire to get a fix on how many men Jordan had brought with him. But once any gunplay started Jordan would know that ‘Zane’ would know Jordan wasn’t going to hold up his end of the bargain. Lee was afraid that he’d slip away, leaving his men to take Zane out. Lee wasn’t about to let that happen – no matter what, Jordan wasn’t getting away.

Preparing to move the instant after he spoke, Lee called out. “You only, drop my money next to the girl in the bundle by the tree,” and zipped to his right where he could still see the ‘girl’. He wasn’t surprised when several bullets hit close to where he’d just been. “Stupid,” he yelled, and instantly moved again.

No one said, or did, anything for at least a minute, as far as Lee could tell. He was as careful as he could be to watch all around him. Jordan’s men had to have at least a partial fix by now on his location. But he began to wonder if Jordan hadn’t brought that many people with him. Lee still had no idea of how big an operation Jordan had, but it couldn’t have been that big or he’d have found someone by now to get up that pipe. And it would have taken at least one, and probably more, to manage the transfer of arms to the freighter. Maybe, Lee thought, it is just Jordan, Baker, and two others here. He started to smile, but it quickly changed to a grimace. Don’t get cocky, Crane, he reminded himself once more.

Just as Lee was deciding that he and Jordan might have reached a stalemate, movement across the open area where Lee had laid the ‘girl’ proved to be Jordan barely stepping away from behind a tree. “Your money,” he yelled, and tossed a small bundle onto the ground pretty much in the center of the clearing. When Lee remained quiet, Jordan took another step. “Don’t you want it?”

He was still too far away for Lee to get a good shot with the tranq gun, and Lee preferred to take him alive as opposed to just shooting him where he stood. So, he waited. He was pretty sure that he had a good deal more patience than Jordan, and it would be getting light all too soon. Jordan would want to get the ‘girl’ secured before anyone in the Haz house realized that she was gone.

His patience was finally rewarded. “Charlie,” Jordan spoke, “grab the girl.” A man appeared off to Lee’s left, apparently having tried to get behind Lee, as Lee had suspected, but been unable to find him, as well camouflaged as Lee was. The man moved cautiously, still trying to see what was around him, and Lee took great delight in dropping him before he got halfway across the small clearing.

“Any more idiots?” Lee asked in Zane’s derisive snarl, and quickly moved, this time to his left. He wasn’t disappointed; a gun appeared in Jordan’s hand and two shots landed where Lee had just been laying. “Take your package and get lost,” ‘Zane’ snarled, and again shifted slightly.

This time Jordan seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to hit ‘Zane.’ He stayed where he was for several more seconds, then started to walk toward the ‘girl’. Just as he reached for the bundle, and felt something hard instead of soft, Lee nailed him with a dart. Then got nailed himself as Jordan reacted and fired, emptying his gun in a spraying motion as the drug in the dart started taking effect. Lee grunted softly as one of Jordan’s bullets grazed his left hip and another his right calf, neither going very deep but hurting like the blazes. But he didn’t dare move. Since Jordan chose to go after his package, Lee figured that he was the only man left standing of his crew. But “Assumption is the Mother of all Screwups,” as Chip so often quoted after he’d spotted the small sign Lee’s mom kept on her desk. Lee chose to stay right where he was for at least another several minutes.

And then almost dropped Admiral Nelson as that man crept into the scene before Lee decided that it was probably okay to move. “Oops,” he mumbled as he slowly stood up. Nelson must have caught his grimace because he was at Lee’s side in an instant. “Grazes only,” Lee assured his boss.

“Uh huh,” Nelson grumbled, but pointed to the two men now laying in the clearing.

“That one,” Lee pointed to Jordan. As Nelson started to truss up the mastermind behind all the chaos Lee had found himself in, Lee checked the packet Jordan had tossed on the ground. As he’d suspected it contained nothing more than some cut up packets of newspaper.

“More?” Nelson asked as he started on the one called Charley.

“Baker,” and Lee pointed to where he’d dropped that one. “And one more over that way,” he pointed to where the first man had dropped.

“Think you can swim down and bring FS1 to shore?” Nelson asked, true concern in his voice.

A very brief frown flitted over Lee’s face, but it quickly changed to a grin at Nelson’s caring tone. “No problem. The salt water will help stop what little bleeding there is.” He glanced around. “We’ll have a load.”

“To be transferred within the hour to the SEALs,” came back firmly. Lee nodded and headed for the beach.

* * * *

Not quite a week later Admiral Nelson wandered into Lee’s office at NIMR, surprising both Lee and Chip as they were going over a list of repairs to Seaview that still needed to be addressed before she was once more seaworthy. Both younger men started to rise but Nelson waved them down, poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Lee’s secretary kept going any time Lee was going to be spending any amount of time there, and settled into the chair next to Chip, in front of Lee’s desk where Lee was sitting. “Had a call from Robert,” he started, then grinned at the expected reactions to any mention of ONI’s Director, Admiral Robert Jones, from his two young officers. Lee raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, and Chip frowned and mumbled something too low to be clearly heard. “Chill, both of you,” Nelson ordered, but still sent them both a quick grin. Chip nodded, and Lee settled back into his chair. “Seems you made quite a haul, Lee,” he continued casually.

“We,” Lee corrected, but softly and with a small smile. “And not without a whole lot of help from the SEALs.”

Nelson grinned, nodded, and took a sip of coffee. “Agreed. Turns out the woman who called herself Elise Biaz is actually one Carmela Tibbs, wanted in half a dozen countries for robbery and murder.”

“Haz must not have vetted her very well before hiring her as his daughter’s tutor,” Lee said.

Nelson shrugged. “And there’s more to that part of the story as well,” he continued. “You know the man you were told about, who showed up at the Haz estate every so often?” Lee nodded. “Turns out Haz had information to sell, ratting out a bunch of his former ‘business associates’. The man who came was negotiating for that intel, and Haz was about to help bring down any number of groups.”

“With him getting immunity from prosecution,” Lee groused.

Nelson shrugged. “That’s the way it works.” Lee and Chip both nodded.

“Was Jordan one of the people Haz had intel on?” Lee asked.

“Robert didn’t say,” Nelson told him. “But all things given, I suspect so. Would have made Jordan even more anxious to have a way to blackmail Haz.” His expression brightened. “But one person Robert did mention was the guy Ali.”

“Hallelujah,” Lee breathed. “He was a little too connected to nefarious goings on for my comfort.” Nelson’s expression went smug and Lee, suddenly suspicious, sent him a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me,” came out in a grumble. “No,” was growled harshly. “He can’t have been.”

Nelson’s face split in an open laugh. “Yep,” he told his suddenly ticked off captain.

“What?” Chip glanced between the other two men.

Lee continued to frown and mumble under his breath, and Nelson turned to the blond. “Ali was Robert’s underground agent.” As Lee finally shook his head, both Nelson and Chip burst out laughing.

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* See ‘Unexpected Reunion’ by R. L. Keller

** See ‘Past Imperfect’ and ‘Out of the Action’ by R. L. Keller