by James Burke
"Three officially, yeah. But I'm sure they've got a few more hanging around."
"And your friends, do I know 'em?"
"No, but one of them will be around here tomorrow."
"To protect me?"
"No, not really. Let's say he'll be here in case you should need him."
"That's different?"
"Of course. You won't see him, but he'll be here. I mean you'd only see him if something very unusual happened, but I can't see that. You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I'm afraid I do, but it looks like there's nothing I can do about it."
"Let's say there's nothing you need to do about it."
"Okay, let's. So you're all ready?"
"I hope so, sweetheart."
"My money's on you, Patrick." Another forced smile.
"I was hoping it would be."
"Did you have any doubts, love?"
"Not a one, Signora."
"'Signora,' huh? Oh well, I guess I should know that signal. You want me to perform some kind of 'signoral duties.' Right? You mean here, on the beach? You animal."
"No, Signora, let's go home. I hate to see your beautiful signora kulo all sand-scratched."
"You're all heart, Signor. Your concern touches me - right here." She raised a hip slightly and pointed. "Oh well. A signora's work is never done." She reached for the towel and her flowered pareu. "You're right, love, let's go home."
And then it was morning. She'd been awake long before she heard the first jungle noises, long before she saw Morley stir from his fitful sleep and start to get up. She waited until he padded toward the bathroom, then she slid out of bed, and covering her nakedness with a cotton shirt and shorts, felt her way through the semidarkness to the kitchen. By the time the coffee was perking it was quite light out, and Morley had arrived, shaved, showered, and dressed. She'd started eggs and toast and wouldn't accept no for an answer, insisting that he could at least begin the day with a decent breakfast. She didn't eat, just sipped her coffee and watched him. He finished quickly. "Guess I'd better get moving. Sam's waiting at the harbor.''
"Can't talk you out of it?"
"Wish you could. I feel like the guy in High Noon." He reached over to cup her chin and followed up with a kiss. She didn't mean to, but she clung, and it became a long kiss. He pulled back finally. "Love it, sweetheart, but Sammy calls. Be back later this evening.''
She didn't say anything, just nodded. Then they stood and walked to the door, arms around each other. He opened it and stepped out, pulling her to him. "I love you, Signora, keep warm 'til tonight."
She tried a smile. It almost came through, but didn't quite make it. "Si, si, or whatever, Signor. Be careful."
"I will. You too. See ya." He held her tightly then brushed his lips across her cheek and left. He could taste the tears on his lips as he started the jeep and pulled away from the house. Her lips mouthed "See ya, yourself " as she watched until the vehicle turned out of sight.
Morley watched the bubbles surfacing on the placid water alongside his boat. A head broke water and he saw the smiling face of Sammy Kee, followed by his arm, raised triumphantly to show a grayish white box about the size of a book. Morley helped Sammy up the small boarding ladder and watched as he very carefully laid the box on the desk. Morley nodded approvingly. "Just as we thought. Where was it, Sammy?"
"Nicely done, right near the exhaust openings, blending beautifully with the color and contour of the hull." He smiled. "Right about where I'd've put it if I were so inclined."
"Uh-huh, that's interesting, but I suppose natural too."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Morley knelt beside the box and began prying gingerly with a small, thin screwdriver. The top came loose. He lifted it off very slowly and examined the contents. "Looks pretty simple: limpet, plastique, battery, wire, and timer. Very interesting, Sammy-the timer's. set for four-fifteen P.M.!
"How d'ya figure that?"
"Guess I'd have to assume it was intended to remove our escape capability, not kill us."
"Hey, Patrick, I'd like to see their faces when they find out where the exchange is set to take place." Sammy almost doubled up with laughter.
Morley chuckled shortly, then turned serious. "But dammit, they'd've had to figure the boat as a possibility, wouldn't they?"
"Maybe not, Pat, maybe not. Maybe they'd figure we'd want to do the whole thing in a more public place - somewhere around the hotel probably."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right." This time he laughed harder, imagining. "Yeah, Sammy, it should be about four twenty or so when we all arrive here. That oughta shake the bastards up a little. It should be fun watching 'em sneak looks at their watches."
This time Sammy turned serious first. "Pat, if we have to figure they just want to knock the boat out then it's gotta follow that they want us alive. Right?"
"Absolutely, my oriental Watson. I doubt those greedy bastards ever considered any option that let us walk off with the dough."
"I see. I was afraid that had to be the answer."
"Yeah, it looks like it, Sammy. Now let's get at it, we've got a lot to do."
Sammy smiled inscrutably, gesturing at the little box in front of Morley. "Okay, if you're sure you got that bastard turned off."
Morley raised his eyebrows and shoulders, palms turned up. They both laughed again. It was ten-seventeen by the boat clock.
19
The rainy season with its sudden torrential downpours, its steamy respites, and its drippingly humid days, had all but passed. The flora on their little island was an eye-bombarding gamut of bright colors, complemented and softened but never overpowered by the ever-present shadings of green. At the moment, the white sand and the aquamarine water contrasted with the naked brown woman standing at the edge of the surf.
Morley watched as he always did, tirelessly, while she poked at something in the water with a thin driftwood stick. She looked like a native. Her black hair had grown longer and all these days of the beach had given her a deep golden tan all over, unmarred any longer by the lighter shadings of the bikini she had eschewed after the first couple of days. She'd even developed a walk a bit like that of the native girls, with that uniquely Polynesian stride-erect, proud, fluid, and yet very saucily feminine.
The plantation was comfortable and always interesting, even if there was no work to do at this time of year, when the place practically ran itself. And there were so many fascinating, exotic, and exciting non work things to do that there never seemed to be enough time as the days melted one into the next. They had boated, in the big one, in canoes, in outriggers, and in an ancient motorboat belonging to the plantation. They had fished, day, night, with lines, with spears, with traps, and with nets. They had explored-jungles, rivers, mountains, shores, lagoons, and reefs. They had swum in pools fed by waterfalls; climbed partway up green, then jagged, volcanic peaks; and visited native villages so remote and untouched that they be came the curiosity. But most of all, they had talked and laughed and enjoyed being together.
He looked at her standing there, surf lapping at her knees, queen of a South Sea island in every sense of the word. He watched as she walked slowly toward him, scuffing the sand with her heels as she moved. She'd stayed so slender, and he thought to himself, "she'll always be that way," and then the word "always" caught in his throat. This was their last swim together before he left for Papeete and his rendezvous with the Corporation. Whether he'd return to her or not depended on whether or not he'd guessed right on one hell of a lot of important points and on how badly they wanted to kill him. In any event he was worried about her. He didn't think they'd really bother with her, and he'd made a number of arrangements to provide for her if he had guessed wrong; nevertheless, he was worried for her. "For" was a much better word; he'd long ago quit worrying "about" her.
She sat down next to him on the grass beach mat, droplets of water still sparkling on her skin. She turned to face him. The face was sad, and he knew what was coming.
"Don't go! We don't need that damn money," she said. "Just send it to them. I don't trust those people at all. Just stay here with me - we'll never let strangers on our island. Never!" Her cheeks were wet with more than seawater now, belying the smile she was trying to manage.
Morley put his arm around the brown shoulders, drawing her closer, then kissed the line of her brow. "I know, sweetheart, but it's too late. I passed that corner a long time ago and there's no reverse in the wagon. I only wish I hadn't got you into it."
"Don't say that. I'm here because I want to be here. I got myself into it, and I've got no regrets. I met you, I love you, I want to be with you - always. It's that simple."
"I know. I know. But like you say, I don't trust these people either. I'd be happier if you were sitting in Sydney under a phony name.''
"Instead of Vera Ti under a phony name?"
"Yeah. I guess." He laughed, and this time she was able to squeeze out a real smile. Then he spoiled it all. "It's been the most wonderful time of my life, and I really don't wish you or I'd been anywhere else for even a minute."
"Don't say 'it's been wonderful,' dammit! That sounds like good-bye, or it's all over, or something like that, and it isn't. It isn't over. I won't let it be. I know, dammit, I know you'll be back here tomorrow night and it'll be the same again."
"That's right, honey. Believe it."
"You don't sound very convincing."
"I don't?" He still looked serious. "Maybe it's because I worry too much."
"About what? Tomorrow? Not beyond that, I hope."
"Yeah - tomorrow. If tomorrow works out, then the rest of the days should be fine."
"Not the days, our days."
"Right. Our days. Yours and mine." "So why worry?"
"Oh, the usual. You know, 'best laid plans,' and all that. These people are not like your neighborhood grocer, and trust - in either direction - isn't one of their stocks in trade. They like to play with long odds in their favor, and I don't know what they've been doing to promote that situation."
"But you told me it makes sense for them to take your deal. You said they should jump at it."
"Yes, it does. Of course it does. But who's to say these hoods are sensible people?"
"Well, Conners always seemed sensible."
"Believe me, honey, I hope to God he is sensible. But sometimes even sensible people see things differently if their objectives are different."
"I’m not sure I like that. You mean they might have objectives other than getting their dough and those papers back?"
"Something like that, but I've been preparing for just that kind of situation. I just hope I've covered all the loopholes."
"And what if you haven't?"
"Then I gotta be quick, believe me."
"And I can't help you be quick, or sneaky, or anything?"
"No, hon. I know you could, but I don't want to expose you."
This did get a smile as she raised her eyebrows and gestured at her totally exposed body. She returned to seriousness quickly. "Where are the papers and everything? Do you have them ready?"
"They're in Papeete. All ready."
"Sammy Kee?"
"Uh-huh."
"Just you and Sammy against the world?"
"Not exactly. We've each got a friend, too."
"Four of you. That's a little better. You said there'd be only three of them."
"Three officially, yeah. But I'm sure they've got a few more hanging around."
"And your friends, do I know 'em?"
"No, but one of them will be around here tomorrow."
"To protect me?"
"No, not really. Let's say he'll be here in case you should need him."
"That's different?"
"Of course. You won't see him, but he'll be here. I mean you'd only see him if something very unusual happened, but I can't see that. You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I'm afraid I do, but it looks like there's nothing I can do about it."
"Let's say there's nothing you need to do about it."
"Okay, let's. So you're all ready?"
"I hope so, sweetheart."
"My money's on you, Patrick." Another forced smile.
"I was hoping it would be."
"Did you have any doubts, love?"
"Not a one, Signora."
"'Signora,' huh? Oh well, I guess I should know that signal. You want me to perform some kind of 'signoral duties.' Right? You mean here, on the beach? You animal."
"No, Signora, let's go home. I hate to see your beautiful signora kulo all sand-scratched."
"You're all heart, Signor. Your concern touches me - right here." She raised a hip slightly and pointed. "Oh well. A signora's work is never done." She reached for the towel and her flowered pareu. "You're right, love, let's go home."
And then it was morning. She'd been awake long before she heard the first jungle noises, long before she saw Morley stir from his fitful sleep and start to get up. She waited until he padded toward the bathroom, then she slid out of bed, and covering her nakedness with a cotton shirt and shorts, felt her way through the semidarkness to the kitchen. By the time the coffee was perking it was quite light out, and Morley had arrived, shaved, showered, and dressed. She'd started eggs and toast and wouldn't accept no for an answer, insisting that he could at least begin the day with a decent breakfast. She didn't eat, just sipped her coffee and watched him. He finished quickly. "Guess I'd better get moving. Sam's waiting at the harbor.''
"Can't talk you out of it?"
"Wish you could. I feel like the guy in High Noon." He reached over to cup her chin and followed up with a kiss. She didn't mean to, but she clung, and it became a long kiss. He pulled back finally. "Love it, sweetheart, but Sammy calls. Be back later this evening.''
She didn't say anything, just nodded. Then they stood and walked to the door, arms around each other. He opened it and stepped out, pulling her to him. "I love you, Signora, keep warm 'til tonight."
She tried a smile. It almost came through, but didn't quite make it. "Si, si, or whatever, Signor. Be careful."
"I will. You too. See ya." He held her tightly then brushed his lips across her cheek and left. He could taste the tears on his lips as he started the jeep and pulled away from the house. Her lips mouthed "See ya, yourself " as she watched until the vehicle turned out of sight.
Morley watched the bubbles surfacing on the placid water alongside his boat. A head broke water and he saw the smiling face of Sammy Kee, followed by his arm, raised triumphantly to show a grayish white box about the size of a book. Morley helped Sammy up the small boarding ladder and watched as he very carefully laid the box on the desk. Morley nodded approvingly. "Just as we thought. Where was it, Sammy?"
"Nicely done, right near the exhaust openings, blending beautifully with the color and contour of the hull." He smiled. "Right about where I'd've put it if I were so inclined."
"Uh-huh, that's interesting, but I suppose natural too."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Morley knelt beside the box and began prying gingerly with a small, thin screwdriver. The top came loose. He lifted it off very slowly and examined the contents. "Looks pretty simple: limpet, plastique, battery, wire, and timer. Very interesting, Sammy-the timer's. set for four-fifteen P.M.!
"How d'ya figure that?"
"Guess I'd have to assume it was intended to remove our escape capability, not kill us."
"Hey, Patrick, I'd like to see their faces when they find out where the exchange is set to take place." Sammy almost doubled up with laughter.
Morley chuckled shortly, then turned serious. "But dammit, they'd've had to figure the boat as a possibility, wouldn't they?"
"Maybe not, Pat, maybe not. Maybe they'd figure we'd want to do the whole thing in a more public place - somewhere around the hotel probably."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right." This time he laughed harder, imagining. "Yeah, Sammy, it should be about four twenty or so when we all arrive here. That oughta sh
ake the bastards up a little. It should be fun watching 'em sneak looks at their watches."
This time Sammy turned serious first. "Pat, if we have to figure they just want to knock the boat out then it's gotta follow that they want us alive. Right?"
"Absolutely, my oriental Watson. I doubt those greedy bastards ever considered any option that let us walk off with the dough."
"I see. I was afraid that had to be the answer."
"Yeah, it looks like it, Sammy. Now let's get at it, we've got a lot to do."
Sammy smiled inscrutably, gesturing at the little box in front of Morley. "Okay, if you're sure you got that bastard turned off."
Morley raised his eyebrows and shoulders, palms turned up. They both laughed again. It was ten-seventeen by the boat clock.
20
At 3:53 P.M. on Thursday the twenty-fifth of April, a cab pulled up to the functionally modern and beautifully landscaped front entrance of the Maeva Beach Hotel near Papeete. Three men got out and entered the hotel. High above them, on an angled section of the tiered building, two men watched. They seemed particularly interested in what happened after the men had gone inside, their binoculars swinging in all directions around and away from the entrance.
The tall blond man spoke. "Looks clean to me, Sammy, but then they wouldn't be obvious, would they?"
"No way! I know they've got soldiers around somewhere. Question is more when they'll show than where they're hiding. Anyway, I'll feel better when we hear from Jackie."
The phone rang inside. The tall man went to answer while Sammy continued sweeping the area with his glasses.
"Hello."
"Pat?"
''Yeah.''
''Looks clean to me.''
"Good, Jackie. Where'd you pick them up?"
"They took a cab from their hotel. Renny and I were waiting since about noon. Don't think they've been anywhere else since they got in, but of course we can't be too sure."
"Yeah, they could've got out last night?"
"Right. No way we could cover the whole place after dark."
"No problem. It's now we're really interested in. You talked to Renny?"
