Donovans 02 - Jade Island

into two unequal halves. The top of the ridge gave them a view of Farmer Island, just over three miles away. Braced against the wind, shielding the lenses from the rain, Archer and Jake traded off keeping watch through powerful binoculars.
    They saw no unusual activity, no sign that Farmer was planning a party or hosting an unpublicized conference. Even after the wind dropped to a whisper, no boats arrived and no planes landed. Nor was there a plane tied down along the private runway. Apparently Dick Farmer was still in Seattle playing hardball with China and Uncle Sam.
    “No change,” Jake said, sliding down the last few feet of the slope and handing the binoculars to Archer. “If anyone noticed us coming in last night, or the Zodiac zipping around earlier today, they’re not worried enough to come looking.”
    Archer glanced at the angle of the sun and then at Kyle,who was methodically testing the rebreathers one last time. Unlike standard scuba gear, the rebreathing apparatus didn’t let loose a stream of air bubbles every time the diver exhaled. It was a useful feature; if you happened to be diving in hostile waters on a clear, calm night, a trail of bubbles could get you killed.
    “How does the water look between here and there?” Kyle asked Jake.
    “Lively, but no problem.”
    Kyle looked at the sky. With luck, there would be a nice, steady drizzle to conceal the Zodiac while they played hide-and-seek with Farmer’s guards.
    “The gear is ready,” Kyle said, standing and stretching.
    “What about the electronics?” Archer asked.
    “In a dry bag clipped to my dive belt.”
    “You sure that damned key works?” Jake asked.
    “We’ll find out soon enough,” Archer said.
    “Have a little faith,” Kyle told his brother. “Remember the gizmo snitch. Not to mention Honor’s alarm clock.”
    “Please, don’t mention it,” Jake muttered. “The first time I heard it go off, I thought someone was murdering her. I came running up from the dock to your cabin buck naked and waving my gun.”
    Kyle snickered. “I wish I could have seen Honor’s face.”
    “It was dark.”
    Kyle looked at the sky again. The west was incandescent with colors. The east was a peaceful twilight blue condensing into night. “Let’s suit up.”
    It was easier said than done, especially for Lianne, who had had little practice pulling on the clinging, stubborn neoprene. Even with the minimum underneath—a bikini swimsuit—she didn’t think she would make it this time. But with a generous amount of talcum powder and a lot of wriggling, she finally got the suit on.
    When she turned to take the path to the narrow, rocky strip of beach where the Zodiac had been hauled out ofthe water, Kyle was standing there, watching her with laughter and frank desire in his eyes.
    “Sweetheart, that would make a hell of a nightclub act.”
    She ignored him. “Where’s my rebreather?”
    “In the Zodiac. But you won’t have to use it. The rain will give us plenty of cover to beach the boat so you can walk ashore.”
    “You hope,” she muttered.
    And so did she. Driving the Zodiac around was a cinch. Climbing back into it after a dive wasn’t. Karate training had given her coordination, but hadn’t done much for the upper-body strength required to lever herself out of the water and into the Zodiac while wearing diving gear.
    Jake and Archer were waiting by the Zodiac. Enough rain spit down to darken the sky, dampen the land, and dimple the surface of the water. In the late-day gloom, the men loomed huge in their unmarked black wet suits and scuba gear. Finding a pure black wet suit for Lianne had been impossible, so Kyle had taken black shoe polish to the bright coral slices of neoprene.
    Lianne went to the bow, perched on the fat gunwale, and wrapped her neoprene-covered fingers around the straps, which would keep her from bouncing out at the first wave. She hoped.
    The men waded into the dark gray ocean, taking the Zodiac with them. Archer and Jake rolled aboard with the ease of men who had done it hundreds of times before. Kyle quickly followed. Sitting on the flat red metal gas tank, he revved up the engine, checked that everyone was set, and headed for Farmer Island.
    By the time they got there, it was dark and Lianne’s hands ached from hanging onto the straps. Despite the sulky rain dribbling over his night goggles, Kyle didn’t even need a compass to show the way. The rugged shape of Farmer Island was like a black