Chapter Three

"Ok, I'm here as requested," Jaime called, standing on the dock next to the boat. "So where the hell are you?" She was more excited than nervous. This was her chance to prove herself, and she intended to do just that. The boat appeared vacant. She waited several minutes and was about to head up toward the bungalow.

"Welcome, Lauren!" A man with a cordial smile but sneaky eyes came up from below deck to meet her. "So good of you to join us! Come aboard, won't you?"

Jaime complied. "Are you the one I need to talk to?" she asked.

"Me? Naah. He's down below. C'mon - I'll take you." He stopped and turned to look back at her. "You have the key and the code, right? Boss'll wanna confirm that."

"Of course. Think I'm an amateur? Let's get this party going!" Jaime glanced around on her way below deck, and suddenly her blood ran ice-cold. Was that a missile launcher? On a recreational boat? It was on the side facing away from their bungalow, so she knew Steve hadn't been able to see it, and she had no way to let him know about it now. Still, she wasn't nervous; she was now officially scared witless. The inner voice that Steve and Oscar had told her an operative must learn to always listen to was screaming.

It was too late. They were already down the stairs, and a door Jaime hadn't seen slammed shut behind her with a heavy, metallic THUD, blocking any escape. Jaime struggled to remain calm and appear casual. Then she saw the man who was forcibly holding Sheila in front of an electronic control panel with a keyboard at the bottom and four keyholes across the top. Two of the keys were already in place.

"Plans had to be changed," Jaime's escort told her. "We've moved it all up to today. Right now, in fact." Jaime's every nerve cell went on high alert as she felt, under her feet, the boat beginning to move at a dangerously rapid clip.

"Good girl," the second man said to a crying Sheila. "Now the key." Sheila stood frozen. "Dammit - give me the key!" Jaime heard the SNAP of Sheila's wrist bone as he forced the key from her hand and inserted it in its place. He roughly shoved Sheila away and she hit the back wall and slid to the floor. She didn't get up.

"Your turn now - Miss Sommers." A third man entered through a sliding door next to the panel. He held a gun aimed at Jaime's head. "Yes, I do know who you are. Been a tennis fan all my life. Goldman must be pretty desperate if he's recruiting athletes." He pushed her toward the panel with the barrel of the gun. "Now you're going to put those pretty little fingers on that keyboard and punch in our last code. Do it right - no tricks - because one wrong digit will cause an alarm to sound and I will shoot you right where you stand."

For a moment, Jaime considered doing exactly that. What was her life, weighed against the millions who would die if they launched their virus/missile? But she knew that even if they killed her, they'd still find a way to launch the deadly missile. She forced herself to stay calm and slowly began punching in the code.

"Very good," the gunman said when she'd finished. "And the key." Jaime didn't move. He jabbed the gun barrel roughly into her temple. "NOW!"

With her right arm extended like a battering ram, Jaime summoned all her strength, spun around, and, with precise aim, knocked the gunman sideways into his two buddies, sending all three sprawling to the floor like lined-up dominoes. Their heads and bodies slammed into the walls of the tiny room, and there was silence. She yanked the control panel from the wall and quickly used the thicker wires to bind and immobilize the three men.

Jaime picked up the gun and bent it like taffy into the shape of a pretzel. She stood over the gunman, who was returning to semi-consciousness, took the key from her pocket, and broke it into several tiny pieces with her fingers. She smiled ironically at him. "You forgot - athletes are extremely strong."

Suddenly, the boat engine stopped, and Jaime could hear heavy footsteps up on the deck, moving toward the stairs. Another one. Well, she'd just have to meet him head-on. She raised one foot and slammed it into the locked metal door. It flew right off its hinges and straight into the path of...

"Steve?"

He jumped out of the way of the large door-shaped projectile. he was soaking wet, head to toe. Although they were miles from shore, he'd obviously been swimming after the boat.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Jaime nodded. "Yeah. But you missed all the fun." She handed him the gun/pretzel. "Made you a souvenir."

Steve pulled her close and held on tightly. "Oscar tells me I'm the best, but it looks like I might have some serious competition."

San Martine Beach - 2/12 - 7pm

Jaime nestled contentedly against Steve's chest and sighed with happiness as his arms surrounded her. "When we go back to the States, is this all gonna disappear, like some kind of 'Island Magic'?" she asked.

"I know mine won't," he told her softly. "Oh - I've got a surprise for you. When you were done on the phone with Oscar, he told me this place is paid for through the 18th, and he thinks we should take a mini-vacation."

"Really?"

"And, so there's absolutely no suggestion of anything improper, he rented a second suite."

"A second suite..." she cocked her head to look up at him. "Are you gonna make me pack up and move out, Austin?"

"Only if you want to."

"Not especially; kill that second suite."

Steve smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." He kissed her, his lips lingering on hers longer than the sun lingered on the horizon.

END