Death Echo

get surprised.”
    She smiled. “Who knew? I always thought yachting would be easy to the point of boredom.”
    He noted the light in her green eyes and the eager tilt of her chin.
    â€œYou really like this,” he said.
    â€œNope. I love it.” She grinned over at Mac and patted the dinghy’s steering wheel. “Mine.”
    â€œYeah, I got that feeling.”
    â€œYou’re feeling right.”
    His laughter was drowned out by the engine as the dinghy skipped through a narrow slot and shot into a wider channel. He pointed toward a rocky outcropping about five miles away.
    â€œWake me up before we go around the headland,” he said.
    â€œWill do.”
    She drove the twelve-foot dinghy with flair, skimming down the channel like a crazed water bug. She liked everything about being in control of this particular transportation, especially the speed.
    Best of all, Mac wasn’t upset about being busted down to first mate. Quite the opposite. He had kicked back to take one of the power naps all people in demanding professions learned to use for recharging.
    There were a few signs of humanity on the long channel. A deserted cottage, floats marking crab or prawn pots, a workboat headed for somewhere else at top speed, a fisherman looking for a late salmon. Enough for local flavor, but not so much that Emma felt crowded.
    She was having too much fun with the zippy little dinghy to notice that she was tired. Camouflaging Blackbird had been a grueling experience, complete with scratches, welts, and sap from the fresh greenery they had weaved through the netting. The camouflage wouldn’t hold for more than a few days—at most—but all they needed was a chip to bring to the Agency poker table for a few hours of play.
    Blackbird was a very big chip.

58
    DAY FIVE
NEAR DISCOVERY PASSAGE
3:41 P.M .
    S hurik Temuri watched the signal on his cell phone screen, turned up an inlet, and scanned the shoreline with his glasses. Though the signal was clear, he couldn’t see Blackbird .
    He braced the fishing rod upright against the gunwale, a silent explanation of why someone would be out in a little boat, going nowhere in particular. Then he engaged the outboard engine and eased up the inlet.
    He was almost past Blackbird when he realized that he was looking at a camouflaged boat.
    Carefully Temuri maneuvered closer until he was right on top of Blackbird. If he hadn’t been so impatient, he would have appreciated the skill and hard work that had gone into making the boat all but disappear. As it was, he was simply pleased that no one was aboard.
    Even seen through binoculars, the couple in the red Mustang suits and speeding dinghy had been unmistakable. He didn’t mind killing, but he did object to unnecessary fuss. Much better to find Blackbird empty than to have to empty her himself.
    Just in case the captain and first mate came back too soon, Temuri checked his weapon. As always, it was ready, waiting. His knife cutand slashed through netting and greenery. He boarded Blackbird from the swim step.
    The back door was locked.
    Temuri used his foot on the glass. Noisy, but fast. Soon he was inside the cabin. Quickly, thoroughly, he went through the boat, collecting what he needed. The cash was a happy surprise. He stuffed it in his pocket without counting the bills.
    It finally was time to end the game.

59
    DAY FIVE
NEAR DISCOVERY PASSAGE
3:46 P.M .
    O ccasional spray felt cold on Emma’s face. Wind and tide combined to make a nasty little chop on even the most protected water. Nothing dangerous, but there was enough splash that she was grateful for the fitted Mustang suit Mac had insisted that she wear. If nothing else, the waterproof gear covered nearly all of the scratches on her. Gloves took care of the rest.
    And Mac looked so male in his red gear that she kept wanting to take a bite out of him.
    The rocky outcropping came closer like a video on fast forward.
    â€œShowtime,” she said over the outboard’s noise.
    As though he hadn’t been snoring two seconds ago, Mac came fully alert, ready to rock and roll. He lifted the waterproof binoculars he wore around his neck.
    â€œGo up and around,” he said. “I want to eyeball the setup before we commit.”
    â€œSo do I.”
    Mac directed Emma around a small island and down a tiny, shallow channel. She watched the nav screen to maintain her bearings. She’d discovered that it would be