Donovans 02 - Jade Island

beacon.
    He checked his dive watch. Quarter of seven. Wellwithin their time limits. Walker wouldn’t even take off from Seattle until ten.
    Kyle throttled the outboard back to a bare mutter and crept closer to the island. They were at the opposite end to the marina and the compound. Here there were no buildings, no lighted paths, no voices calling. The headland looked like a wall, which it was, unless the tide was out. Then a boat with a very shallow draft could reach one of the thin, rocky beaches that clung to either side of the headland.
    The landing spot the men had chosen was lost in darkness, unless you happened to be the man wearing the night goggles. Just beyond the rocky rubble of the beach, the black mass of the forested headland rose steeply against the barely lighter sky.
    “You’re up,” Kyle said to Archer in a voice that carried no farther than his brother.
    “Sixty minutes,” Archer answered in the same voice.
    “Check the locator.”
    Archer switched on the miniature transmitter that would tell Kyle exactly where to pick him up in an hour.
    The small receiver in Kyle’s hand stirred to life and pointed toward Archer.
    “It’s hot,” Kyle said. “Go.”
    Archer turned off the transmitter, lowered himself into the water, and began swimming toward the beach with powerful, invisible motions of his dive flippers.
    Kyle turned the Zodiac and headed for the next drop-off point. It began to rain in earnest. No one in the open boat noticed. Wet suits were hard to get on or off, but they made world-class rain gear.
     
    A light blinked on the console. When that wasn’t enough to get the guard’s attention, a beeper complained in rapidly rising tones.
    “Now what?” the guard muttered, setting aside his magazine. “If that moron gardener is sneaking out in thebushes to ball the maid again, I’m going to personally rip off his cock and stuff it down her throat.”
    But the warning light wasn’t in the servants’ sector. It came from the dirt road at the far end of the island, near the runway. It could be deer. They had some on Farmer Island. Or it could be something on two legs.
    The guard hit an intercom switch that connected him to staff quarters. When there wasn’t a conference or a party scheduled, there were only two guards for the whole island. Usually it didn’t matter, because the place was so quiet that the only danger was falling asleep on the job. The guards split the day into twelve-hour shifts, 6 A . M . to 6 P . M . When Murray was on duty, Steve was off—unless something happened.
    Something had just happened.
    “Steve!” Murray snapped. “Get your ass up here. We got a live one on the east side, sector six.”
    “Hell, Murray. You sure it isn’t Lopez humping that lazy slut again?”
    “Not unless they took a walk to the far end of the runway to do it.”
    “Five to one it’s a deer.”
    “Five to one you’re fired if you don’t haul ass out there and take a look.”
    With a disgusted curse Steve pulled on a rain jacket and headed for the Jeep. Five minutes later he roared up to the far end of the island. His headlights and searchlight showed nothing but empty road and rain. He picked up the radio mike.
    “Murray, this is Steve,” he said curtly. “Nothing on the road. Not even deer tracks.”
    “Try the beach.”
    “It’s raining cats and dogs.”
    “That’s why you’re getting paid fifteen bucks an hour.”
    Steve got out of the Jeep, slammed the door, and went to the point where the road fell away to the tiny beach thirty feet below. Using a powerful flashlight and slow, methodical sweeps of his arm, he lighted up swath afterswath of night. Rocks gleamed wetly in the rain. A stunted pine clung to a ledge just out of reach of the salt water. No boat was hauled up on shore or anchored within reach of his light.
    Rain trickled coldly down his jacket collar. His shoes were wet. So was his face. His leather gloves were getting clammy. He climbed back into the Jeep, slammed the door, and picked up the mike again. “Murray, Steve. Nothing but rain and rocks.”
    “That’s what I figured. C’mon back.”
    As the lights of the Jeep vanished into the rain, Archer surfaced invisibly on the black breast of the sea. He checked the dial of his dive watch. Jake should be landing on the other side of the headland in a few minutes.
     
    “I’ve got you on the grid,” Kyle said softly to Jake. “Go.”
    “Fifty minutes.”
    “Check.”
    Jake rolled off the