Chapter 9

Jaime emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel...and when Steve didn't even look up from where he was busily fiddling with the emergency radio, she shivered intuitively in the island heat. ''Should I...get dressed?'' she asked. (Please tell me no, she thought to herself.)

''Yeah; maybe you'd better,'' Steve told her, still not looking up from his work.

''Steve...?''

''Just some interference on the radio,'' he explained in a calm voice. ''I was going to let Oscar know you thought you heard a sub and -''

''I did hear a sub.''

Steve nodded. ''And I can't get through to Washington - or anywhere else. Possibly just a weather squall blocking our signal.''

''But you don't think so.'' (It wasn't a question; Jaime knew her husband.)

''Rudy said the same thing - that it could be a storm moving in - but I think we may be getting jammed.''

''By the sub?'' Jaime asked.

''Or by the people responsible for the sub. Sweetheart, do me a favor. After you get dressed, get on the datacom and find out if Rudy's having any better luck over there...?''

Jaime nodded and hurried back to the bedroom. Steve didn't need Jaime's ear to be able to hear that the wind was starting to pick up outside - but it didn't seem to be enough to jam the equipment. Jaime came back out of the bedroom dressed...and with a puzzled look on her face that bordered on fear. ''Steve...?'' she said very quietly. ''How do we get off of this island, if we need to in a hurry?''

''We would normally radio the boats and they'd send someone to get us. But I could also re-tune the datacom for an outside frequency and reach them that way.''

''Maybe we should swim for it,'' she told him, ''because this thing's dead too.''

Steve frowned and took the datacom from Jaime's outstretched (and slightly trembling) hand. ''That's impossible. A storm shouldn't interfere with...damn it!.'' He was unable to raise even Rudy on the other side of the island.

Rudy had apparently discovered the same thing, a few minutes before Jaime and Steve did. The knock on the door made them both stiffen for a moment, until Rudy called out ''It's us!'' Jaime hurried to open the door...and the wind had picked up so strongly that it nearly took the door out of her hand. Before she closed it again, Jaime heard something that was definitely notthe wind. She listened intently for a few moments...then quickly shut the door. ''If we're gonna swim for help, now would be a really good time,'' she told Steve (with a growing quaver to her voice). ''We...we're not alone.''

''What'd you hear?'' Rudy asked.

''Zippers. At least a couple of 'em. Sounded like rubber suits...wet suits...'' Jaime said shakily. ''I say we swim for it and bring back help now.''

''Looks like that sub was closer than we thought,'' Rudy noted. ''Which means you're not going in that water. They've infiltrated the security line. Who knows what else is out there.''

''Well we can't wait here like sitting ducks until they come politely knocking to tell us what they want!'' Jaime insisted. ''And we have no way to call for help!''

Steve went to the closet and pulled out a set of flares. ''We have these. The boats'll see 'em and head our way fast.'' He looked up as rain began to pound at the roof in sheets.

''So we're back to swimming for it,'' Jaime said softly. As if to punctuate their sense of isolation, the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky out over the water. ''Or...not,'' she backpedaled.

Almost on autopilot (thanks to their OSI training), Rudy and Mark pulled guns from their waistbands that Jaime never even realized they carried, holding them pointed toward the floor. Steve bolted to the bedroom for his own weapon.

Jaime flinched. ''So I'm the only one who didn't think to bring a gun to an island 'paradise','' she whispered. ''Well...at least I can help move things up against the door, to buy us some time!'' Except...with almost every stick of furniture fashioned from bamboo, there wasn't much of anything that would 'batten down the hatches' from the storm - much less from anyone intending to do them harm.

''Yours is in the bottom of my suitcase, if you want it,'' Steve told her quietly.

Jaime was barely able to take the first step toward the bedroom when the front door flew open - and not from the wind. Several pairs of rough hands grabbed her and pulled her out onto the steps, holding her in front of the open door as a human shield. ''Weapons on the floor, gentlemen,'' one of the would-be intruders snarled. ''And I'd strongly advise you to do it now!''