They had walked along the beach from the Pelican Resort parking lot, wearing their heavy diving suits as well as the backpacks, until they were only about a hundred yards from the thick fence that marked Homer's property. Then they had set down the packs containing their clothes and eased into the water. During the walk Troy had had several problems with his tools, and a decision to reduce his a.r.s.enal of gadgets had delayed their arrival at the embarkation point by five minutes. Just before they went into the water, Nick had given an uncharacteristic squeal of excitement and grabbed Troy by the shoulders. "I hope that f.u.c.king gold is there," he had said. "I cannot wait to see their faces after we steal it."
It was time to submerge. Holding hands in the darkness, Nick and Troy dropped about five feet under the water. They stopped, equalized the pressure in their heads, and repeated the procedure. When they were down about ten feet, Troy turned on the searchlight. They quickly worked out their directions and headed around the corner, deeper into the cove adjoining Homer's estate.
Troy was in the lead. He had no trouble finding the entrance to the natural tunnel that led to the subterranean cave. As they had planned, Nick waited outside the tunnel while Troy went inside to look for alarms. The rock cliffs closed over his head. The watery entryway was about five feet across and four feet high. Troy immediately found a metal box affixed to the left wall, where it was partially hidden from view. When he examined the box, he discovered that it was emitting two laser beams separated by about three feet.
On the other side of the natural tunnel were the receiving plates for the beams as well as the alarm electronics. Troy swam over carefully, pulled out his screwdriver, and dismantled the housing. The system was very simple. Failure of either plate to receive a beam would trigger the opening of a relay. When both relays were open, current could flow to the alarm. Thus an object had to be large enough to break both beams simultaneously to set off an alarm. Troy smiled to himself as he validated the operating principle by pa.s.sing his hand in front of one of the beams. Then he jerryrigged one of the relays permanently closed. Satisfied with his work, he swam back and forth in the tunnel, breaking both beams at the same time, a.s.suring himself that he had rendered the alarm system ineffective.
He swam back out to meet Nick and gave him the thumbs-up sign. The two men pa.s.sed through the fifty yards of natural tunnel into the subterranean cave. Where the narrow pa.s.sageway widened, Troy again gestured to Nick to remain behind while he, Troy, went into the cave to check for b.o.o.by-traps. Nick let his feet fall to the bottom of the tunnel and switched on his own small flashlight. He was in a perfect place for an ambush. The tunnel was so small here that there was virtually no maneuvering room He wondered what an underwater sentry would look like. What a place to die, he thought suddenly. Fear swept over him as he turned off his flashlight and looked down at his illuminated diver's watch. He watched the glowing second hand sweeping around the face. He tried to calm himself. It had been three minutes since Troy had left. Why is he taking so long? he asked himself. He must have found something. Another minute pa.s.sed. Then another. Nick was having a hard time quelling the onset of panic. What do I do if he doesn't return?
Just as Nick was about to swim into the cave on his own, he caught sight of Troy's searchlight coming toward him Troy waved and Nick followed. Within thirty seconds they were in the shallow part of the cave, where the water was only about four feet deep. The two men stood up with their flippers lodged against the rocks to protect themselves from falling in the intermittent tidal surges.
Nick pulled his regulator out of his mouth and flipped his mask back on his head. Before he could speak, Troy put a finger against Nick's lips. "Speak very softly," Troy's whisper was barely audible. "The place could be alarmed for sound as well."
There was no light in the cave except Troy's searchlight. However, over their heads, in the highest corners of the rock ceiling, Troy pointed out two separate banks of fluorescent lighting. The cave itself was an irregular oval, about thirty yards in its longest dimension and maybe fifteen yards across at its widest point. The ceiling was only about three feet above the water near the entrance to the tunnel out to the ocean, but it was twenty feet high in the corner where they were standing in the shallow water.
"Well, Professor," Troy continued whispering, "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that there is no treasure here in this cave. The good news is that there are two other tunnels, both manmade, that lead away from this place and go under Captain Homer's property." He paused for a moment and watched his partner. "Shall we go for it?"
Nick looked at his watch. It was nine-twenty already. He nodded. "The b.a.s.t.a.r.d spent a lot of money down here. They must have stolen more than I figured." Nick adjusted his diving equipment.
"We'll start with the tunnel on the left. As before, I'll lead to look for trouble." Troy cast his searchlight around on the ceiling. "This is a strange place. But beautiful. It looks like another planet, doesn't it?"
Nick pulled his mask back over his face and slipped the regulator in his mouth. He flopped backward into the sea water. Troy followed and, once under the surface, showed Nick the way to the first manmade tunnel. This tunnel was on the other side of the cave, about twelve feet below the water at its lowest point. It was made of normal circular sewer pipe. The diameter of the pipe was about five feet, making the tunnel approximately the same size as the natural pa.s.sageway between the ocean and the cave. Troy entered the tunnel gingerly. He swam back and forth from side to side, examining one wall for a few yards and then going across to the other. He almost missed the long, slender alarm box. It was embedded in the ceiling at a junction between two sections of sewer pipe and Troy just happened to look up before he triggered the alarm.
This system worked on a different principle. A camera or other optical device in the box on the ceiling took repeated images of a square foot of the tunnel bottom that was backlit by an illuminated square cleverly concealed below the normal concrete floor. Apparently some kind of data comparison algorithm in the alarm processor contained logic by which the consecutive pictures could be a.s.sessed, in terms of threat, and an alarm triggered if necessary. It was the most complicated device of its kind that Troy had ever seen and he quickly recognized the similarities between this system and the ocean telescope that had been onboard the Florida Queen. That means MOI designed and developed it, he thought to himself. So I'd best be careful. I bet the algorithm is set so that disturbances to the camera trigger the alarm as well.
Nick had swum over to the side of the tunnel, out of the way, and was watching Troy try to open up the alarm box without jiggling the optical instrument. To accommodate the almost two-inch width of the box, there was a gap of that size everywhere around the circle connecting the two sequential sections of pipe. Throughout the rest of the tunnel, all adjoining sections were cemented together. Here the pa.s.sageway was discontinuous.
Curious, thought Nick. He idly shone his small flashlight into the blackness in the gap beside him, expecting to see nothing but a wall of rock. What in the world is that? he wondered, as his light fell upon some metal object that looked like a large grating. The grating was resting upon an old piece of railroad track. Nick looked more carefully. He could make out a gear box and some pulleys, but he had no idea how all these mechanical devices fit together.
Meanwhile Troy had managed to remove the housing from the alarm box without disturbing the camera and was busy trying to understand the inner workings of the system. Whew, he thought. This is much too complicated to figure out in five minutes. If I can just isolate the alarm, that should be enough. It was tough work under the water. But Troy was clever and the electronics were packaged in a logical fashion. He was able to find the alarm and disable it. Afterward Troy lingered for several seconds trying to determine the purpose of the other circuits connected to the alarm suba.s.sembly.
Nick had intended to show Troy what he had found in the gap; however, as he watched his friend struggling with the complex circuitry of the alarm box, he became again worried about the pa.s.sage of time. It was now almost a quarter to ten. He caught Troy's eye and pointed at his watch. Troy reluctantly abandoned his investigation of the alarm and proceeded down the tunnel.
Thirty yards farther the tunnel pa.s.sed what looked like a door to a submarine on their left. Both Troy and Nick tried pulling on the handle of the large and very heavy round door but nothing happened. With gestures Troy told Nick to continue trying to open the door while he swam on down the tunnel.
The gold bars and other objects that remained from the Santa Rosa treasure were sitting in the tunnel another thirty yards beyond the round door. The pa.s.sageway itself came to an abrupt halt against a rock wall. In front of the wall was an array of gold and silver objects, stacked to an average depth of a foot or so across the width of the tunnel. The treasure was not hidden in any way, it was simply scattered in random piles on the concrete floor at the end of the tunnel. Troy was ecstatic. There's plenty here, he thought. Enough for the aliens. Enough for Nick. Maybe even some left over for Carol and me.
He swam back to find Nick. Nick was absolutely exultant when he saw the unmistakable smile on Troy's face. He raced around his friend to the end of the tunnel When Nick first reached the treasure, he spent a minute or two swimming around, picking up each object that was different and dropping it back into the piles on the floor.
Holy s.h.i.t, Nick said gleefully to himself as he and Troy started putting gold bars into the buoyancy bags. I was right for once. There must be over a hundred pounds in bars alone. They had agreed before the dive just to bring out the bars, provided there were enough. The bars were the only objects they could be certain were pure gold. Even if we take fifty-eight to Troy's friends, that might leave fifty or so for us. He did a quick mental calculation. That could be over three hundred thousand dollars apiece. Whoopee.
Joy and excitement surged through Nick. He was having difficulty containing himself. He wanted to sing, to dance, to jump with joy. He had been right after all. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had stolen most of the treasure and now he was stealing it back. There's no happiness quite like the redressing of an old and painful grievance. And to do it with panache . . . Nick was already celebrating in his heart. This was his day.
Filling the bags took no time at all. Nick and Troy both felt as if they had infinite energy. When they had finished picking up the gold bars, Troy gestured down the tunnel. Nick looked down at the other treasure objects remaining on the floor. We should take it all, he thought. We should leave Homer and Greta nothing. Nothing at all. But he had to be practical. Each of their bags was virtually full and they would be heavy enough as they were.
Nick swam off in the direction of the ocean, his buoyancy bag full of gold trailing behind him. Troy followed. As they pa.s.sed the bulky door on the right, Troy found himself thinking again about the circuitry leading to the alarm in the box just ahead, between the two sections of pipe. What could those other connections be for? Suddenly he remembered seeing a diagram in an electronics magazine about advanced timers that could reinitialize systems and swap out failed parts. By now the component that Troy had disabled might have been declared a failure by the smart processor in the alarm box, in which case it would have either been replaced by a redundant part or the system would be ignoring its output. In either situation, Troy thought, that means the system could be active again.
It was too late. Nick swam into the field of view of the optical device and lights came on throughout the tunnel. A metal gate started closing behind Nick and his bag of gold. It was only with a burst of speed that Troy propelled himself through before the gate shut completely. But his buoyancy bag full of gold bars was left behind, on the other side of the gate.
Nick stared at Troy's lost bag as it floated to the floor. He reached through the bars, grabbed the bag, and tried to pull it through. It was useless. He shook the gate. The metal was extremely st.u.r.dy. Angry and frustrated, he punched the gate with his fists. As Nick caught his breath in between punches, he became aware of a strange droning sound, like a motor, somewhere in the distance behind him. He turned around to find Troy. He could not see him anywhere.
Troy had been exhausted by his swimming sprint through the closing gate. His energy spent, he had let himself fall to the floor of the pool in the deepest part of the cave, halfway between the two manmade tunnels. He took several deep breaths through his mouthpiece and checked his air supply. He had about ten minutes remaining. He watched for a moment as Nick, almost out of sight to his right, tried fruitlessly to pull Troy's bag through the gate. s.h.i.t, Troy thought, disappointed that he had lost the gold, if only I had been thinking. I should have known . . . He heard an unusual sound off to his left. Curious, Troy swam over to the entrance of the other tunnel and right into the path of the robot sentry.
Even though the original distance between them was over fifty feet, the guidance mechanism of the sentry fixed on Troy as soon as he appeared. Startled and fascinated, at first Troy did not try to avoid the onrush of the bullet-shaped submarine. The sentry was three feet long and a foot wide in its midsection. When it was about eight feet away, the sentry slowly loaded and fired a small but powerful spear, the size of a table knife, that Troy just managed to avoid as it hurtled past. The spear crashed into the wall beside him.
Adrenaline surged into Troy's system and he swam out into the middle of the pool. The sentry did not follow him immediately. Instead it moved over in front of the natural pa.s.sageway to the ocean, thereby cutting off the escape route, and then turned around to make a systematic search of the pool . d.a.m.nit, Troy was thinking, why didn't I leave while I had the chance? He wondered if Nick was still over by the gate.
The sentry had now found Nick in its field of vision. He was swimming slowly toward the exit with his buoyancy bag. He was unaware that he and Troy were not alone in the pool. By the time Nick saw the sentry, he was fifteen feet away and within easy range of its underwater gun. Troy watched the sentry load a spear. Oh no, he cried out to himself. Watch out, Nick. There was nothing he could do.
It happened so fast that neither Nick nor Troy knew exactly what occurred. Troy would later explain that he felt a sudden warm tingle on his wrist and then something, a light beam or a laser burst or a stream of plasma perhaps, fired out of his bracelet and zapped the robot sentry into silence and motionlessness. Nick would say that the sentry, just when it was going to fire at him, was first distracted by Troy and then recoiled as if from an impact. Whatever happened, the sentry stopped all activity. Immediately thereafter the two men swam together over to the shallow part of the cave. They were temporarily safe.
Carol could not believe how plump and succulent the oysters were. Ellen was sitting at the other end of the table opposite her, and was beaming with pride. "Would you like some more, dear?" she smiled, lifting the huge pot containing the oyster stew. I'm now going to eat a second portion, Carol thought. In addition to the catfish with Nick. Greta would be disgusted. She smiled to herself and nodded at Ellen. There was at least one thing she had learned this evening. Ellen was certainly a fantastic cook.
And a very sad person too, Carol thought as she spooned herself some more spicy stew rich with the fabled Appalachicola oysters. Homer had personally answered all the questions during the twenty-minute interview before dinner. Whenever a question had been controversial or delicate, such as when Carol had asked about the allegations that part of the treasure haul had been secretly stolen and hidden by the three of them, he had looked only at Greta before he made a response. No wonder Ellen eats all the time. She's the odd man out. Or is it woman?
"This stew is fabulous," Carol remarked to Ellen. "Would you mind giving me the recipe?"
Ellen was delighted. "Certainly, dear," she said, "it would be my pleasure." Carol remembered Dale's reference to Ellen's behavior at the MOI awards dinner and wondered if there was, indeed, any s.e.xual component to the warmth Ellen was displaying. I don't see it, Carol decided. This is just a lonely and profoundly disturbed woman. I don't feel one iota of s.e.xual tension.
"You've been asking the questions all evening, Miss Dawson," Homer was saying. "Now why don't we ask you a few?" He had been surprisingly pleasant and subdued since the bizarre preprandial shark feeding. They must be normal sometimes, Carol thought. Otherwise they couldn't survive. But who knows when Mr. Hyde will show up again.
"Ya," Greta said. It was the first time she had spoken directly to Carol during the meal. "Homer told me you were with Dr. Dale. You are lovers, no?"
You don't beat around the bush, do you Greta. Carol partially evaded the question. "Dale Michaels and I are very good friends. We spend quite a lot of time together, both socially and professionally."
"He is a smart man," Greta said. Those clear eyes stared at Carol and a smile played at the corner of Greta's lips. What is she trying to tell me?
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a sharp alarm. Carol knew immediately that something had gone wrong. "What in the world is that?" Carol asked innocently as the strident alarm continued with its loud bursts.
Homer and Greta were already up from the table. "Excuse us," Homer said, "it's our burglar alarm. Probably an error. We'll go check it out."
They hurried out of the dining room, leaving Carol and Ellen alone, and headed down a nearby hallway. I must follow them and find out what's going on, Carol thought, her heart and mind racing together. She sneaked a peek at her watch. It was five minutes past ten o'clock. They should have finished by now. "I'm going to the rest room," she said to Ellen. "Don't bother," she added, as Ellen started to explain the directions. "I'm sure I can find it myself."
Carol walked quickly into the hall and listened for sounds of Homer and Greta. Moving very quietly, she followed them until she was just outside a large den on the opposite side of the house. The door to the den was ajar. "It will focus in a second," she heard Homer say. There was a pause. "s.h.i.t," he shouted, "it looks like the gold bars are already gone. They must have moved very fast . . . The picture is really not very clear. Here, you take a look."
"Ya," said Greta. "The bars are gone, I think . . . But Homer, the gold would be very heavy. Maybe the thieves are trapped in the tunnel . . . Timmy could search for them."
"That would fix the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," Homer's nervous laugh sent chills down Carol's spine. She back pedaled slowly until she had retreated to the main foyer of the house. She heard an outside door slam in the direction of the den. They've gone out to turn the sharks loose. Jesus. I must warn Nick and Troy.
Carol walked into the nearest bathroom in the hallway, pushed the door closed, and turned on the water faucet. Then she flushed the commode and untaped the small walkie-talkie that was hidden inside her shirt. She put the unit right next to her mouth. "Mayday, mayday," she said. "They know you're there. You are in danger." She repeated the message and then pushed the b.u.t.ton that would automatically recycle the communication several more times. I certainly hope this d.a.m.n thing works, she thought.
She started to affix the tiny unit to the inside of her blouse again. While she was taping it down, she happened to look in the mirror. Her heart nearly stopped. Ellen was standing in the doorway, staring at her, the baleful glare in her eyes indicating that she had seen and heard everything. She took a step toward Carol.
"Just hold it right there, Ellen," Carol said. Carol put her hands up. "I have no quarrel with you." The fat woman hesitated. "Homer and Greta only use you anyway," Carol added softly, "why don't you leave them and make a life for yourself?"
Anger broke across Ellen's face. Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks reddened, and she raised her huge fists to threaten Carol. "It's none of your d.a.m.n business how I live my life," she said menacingly. She moved again in Carol's direction.
Carol grabbed the thick metal towel rack beside her and pulled with all her might. The bar sprung free from the wall, dumping two peach bath towels and a wooden end piece on the linoleum floor. Carol brandished the bar over her head. "Don't make me hit you," she said. "Just move aside and get out of my way."
Ellen did not slow down. Carol aimed carefully and struck her hard, on the right shoulder. The heavy woman collapsed.
"Greta," she wailed in a monstrous voice, "Greta, help me."
Still waving the bar from the towel rack, Carol walked carefully around Ellen and backed toward the door. Once in the hall, she sprinted to the family room and headed for the front door. Right beside the wet bar she was tackled from behind. Carol fell forward, hard, and smashed her nose on the carpet. She tried to squirm out of Greta's arms but it was impossible. She was pinned. A few drops of blood trickled out of Carol's nose and fell on the carpet.
Both women were breathing heavily. Carol managed to turn her body around so that she was facing Greta. She struggled vainly to free herself. Greta's strong arms slammed Carol's wrists against the floor. Greta bent down until her face was only inches away from Carol's. "You were trying to get away, ya, and just why vere you in such a hurry."
There was something feral in Greta's eyes. On impulse, Carol lifted her head and kissed Greta, full on the lips. Startled, her a.s.sailant's arms momentarily relaxed. That was all Carol needed. Gathering all her strength, she smashed the bottom of her palm into the side of Greta's head. Greta was stunned. Carol pushed her off and made a dash for the door.
Carol was already calculating when she ran out the front door and down the steps. Greta will be up in an instant, she thought. I won't have time to open the car door. I might as well run for it.
The German woman was only fifteen yards behind her, and gaining fast, when Carol turned onto the lane that led from Homer's house to the Pelican Resort. For ten years I have run three times a week. But this is the only time my life has ever depended on it. She tried to accelerate. Greta continued to close the gap. Carol was certain she was going to be caught at any minute. Once she thought she felt Greta's hand on her blouse.
But after two hundred yards Greta began to drop back. When she was a quarter of a mile from Homer's driveway Carol dared to look over her shoulder. Her pursuer was clearly struggling and was now fifty yards behind her. Carol felt a renewed burst of energy. I'm going to make it, she thought. I'm actually going to escape.
Greta slowed to a walk. Eventually Carol did too, but not until she was almost to the restaurant. Even then she continued to look back, to try to find her antagonist in the moonlight. Now I'll call a taxi, she was thinking, And go over to Nick's apartment. I hope that the two of them heard my warning and are safe.
She could no longer see Greta. She stopped and strained her eyes. She must have turned back, Carol thought. While she was looking back down the lane, a pair of very strong hands grabbed her shoulders. She spun around and stared into the laughing eyes of Lieutenant Richard Todd.
10.
HE had purposely waited until all the rest of the actors had left the dressing room. The package itself was inconspicuous, about the size of a large bar of soap, wrapped in white paper with a dark red ribbon. You don't even know if it's from her, Winters thought as he pulled the bow on the ribbon. The commander was full of antic.i.p.ation. The show had been even better tonight. And in the bedroom scene he had felt, for just a second, the touch of Tiffani's tongue against his lips. She didn't have to do that, Winters told himself, suspending for a moment all vestiges of guilt.
His hands trembled a little as he opened the package. It was a plain white box. Inside was a silver cigarette lighter simple but handsome, with the initials VW engraved on the outside at the bottom. His heart raced. So she does feel it too. Commander Winters felt a powerful burst of l.u.s.t in his groin. Now he was imagining a scene no more than three or four hours in the future. He was taking Tiffani home and they were kissing at her front door. "Would you like to come in," she would say . . .
"I feel pretty . . . oh so pretty . . . I feel pretty and witty and gay . . ." He heard her singing as she came down the hall. She pushed open the door to his dressing room and twirled around. Tiffani's hair was stacked high on her head showing the lines of her elegant neck. The gold filigree along the top of the comb that the commander had given her blended in perfectly with the rich red and brown of her hair. Her dress was white, low cut, with her shoulders exposed except for tiny straps in the corners.
"Well?" she said with a big and eager smile. She turned around again. "What do you think?"
"You look beautiful, Tiffani," he replied. He stared at her with such intensity that she blushed.
"Oh, Vernon," she sighed, now changing her mood, "the combs are wonderful." She pulled a cigarette from his pack on the dresser table and lit it herself with his new lighter. She took a deep drag, her eyes fixed on his, and put the cigarette down in the ashtray. "I don't know how to thank you," she murmured.
She walked over to him and put her hands in his. "It's already been another wonderful evening." She put her left hand behind his head and reached up to kiss him. His heart was about to explode within his body. She could feel his arousal as her lips nestled softly against his. She pulled his head down to meet hers and subtly increased the pressure of her kiss. At length he put his arms around her and pressed her body against his.
Commander Winters thought he was going to drown in the pleasure of that kiss. Never had he felt such longing. He was certain he would gladly die in the morning if he could just continue to kiss her all night first. For a moment, as he let himself experience fully the rush of joy and love and l.u.s.t, all his worries and despair were pushed aside. He wanted to wrap himself around Tiffani, somehow zip her inside his skin, and close out everything else in the universe.
Melvin and Marc had come to the dressing room to find the commander. They had not approached with stealth and were not even being especially quiet, but neither Tiffani nor Commander Winters heard them walk up. The two men could see the pair kissing through the open dressing room door. They looked at each other and reached out instinctively to touch hands for an instant. From their own experience they knew about the difficulty of love affairs outside the accepted norm.
Tiffani and Winters finally broke the kiss and she put her head against his chest. Her back was to the door. Winters opened his eyes and saw Melvin and Marc standing there in front of him. He blanched, but the director made a gesture with his hands that said, "It's all right. It's your business, not ours."
Melvin and Marc considerately waited several seconds so that it would look as if they had not arrived until after the kiss. The commander patted Tiffani on the shoulder and turned her around in a fatherly manner. "Great show, Commander," Melvin said as he walked into the room. "And another super performance from you too, young lady." He paused. Marc smiled his compliments and Tiffani unconsciously straightened out her dress. "There's a Lieutenant Todd waiting outside for you, Commander," Melvin added. "He says it's urgent. He asked me to tell you to hurry."
Winters face was creased with wrinkles. What in the world is he doing here? he thought. It's after ten o'clock on a Sat.u.r.day night. "Thanks, Melvin," he answered. "Tell him I'll be out in a few minutes."
The director and his friend turned and left the dressing room. Tiffani reached over for the lit cigarette, whose ash had grown so long it had nearly fallen out of the ashtray. She inhaled and handed it to Winters. "Did they see us kissing?" she asked anxiously "No," lied Winters. But already he was realizing how untenable his fantasy was. Precious Tiffani, he thought. My teenage lover. We were lucky. But we cannot kid ourselves. We will be seen eventually. He looked into her eyes and saw the flame of adolescent pa.s.sion. Again he felt the surge in his loins. He reached down and pulled her forcefully to him. And if the wrong person sees us, he thought as his lips tingled with her kiss, there is no limit to my risk.
Winters threw his cigarette down on the ground and stomped it out. He shook his head in disbelief. "You are telling me that you have taken those three into custody? And you're holding them at the base?"
Lieutenant Todd was confused. "But sir, don't you understand? We have an entire set of photographs. In three of them you can clearly see the missile. And there are other pictures that show the black guy in some kind of underwater structure down there in the ocean. Just as I had guessed. What more could we possibly need? We also caught them, red-handed no less, coming back from a dive with fifty pounds of gold bars in their backpacks. Fifty pounds!"
Commander Winters turned around and went back in the theater. "Go back to the base, Lieutenant," he said disgustedly. "I'll be there in five minutes."
It was apparent that Melvin and Marc were just waiting for Tiffani and the commander before they locked up the theater and went to the party. "Can you take her over, Melvin?" he asked. "There's a big mess out at the base tonight and it looks as if I will have to straighten it out." The conversation with Todd had been sobering for Winters on at least two levels. First, it had reminded him that there was a real world out there, outside of the theater, a world that would not look kindly on a forty-three-year-old Navy commander having a s.e.xual relationship with a seventeen-year-old high school student. Secondly, Todd's astonishing announcement that he had indeed detained three civilians, one of whom was a well-known reporter, jolted the commander into realizing that his preoccupation with Tiffani had affected his work. I should never have let this thing get so far out of control, he thought. From here on out that lieutenant makes no move that I don't personally approve.
"I'm sorry, Tiffani," he said in a fatherly voice. He gave her an ambiguous hug and a light kiss on the top of her head. "I'll come to the party as soon as I can."
"Hurry or you'll miss the champagne," Tiffani said with a smile. Melvin turned off the lights in the theater. The four of them walked out the door.
Winters had parked down the street almost a block away. He waved to Tiffani as she climbed into Melvin's car. I wonder if you will ever know, young lady, he thought. Know how close I came tonight to throwing everything away. In his mind's eye it was twenty-four years before, on a cold night outside of Philadelphia, and he had just gone berserk and virtually raped Joanna Carr. Winters started his Pontiac and eased into the street. It would be so easy, he thought. Just one time to forget the rules and constraints. To dive into the water without looking first. He remembered his pact with G.o.d after he had spent the night with Joanna. So You kept Your part of the bargain. I guess And I became an officer and a gentleman. And a killer.
He winced. He turned the car past the sw.a.n.k Miyako Gardens and headed for the base. With great effort he forced himself to stop thinking about Tiffani and Joanna and s.e.x. It's not enough that I have this trial with Tiffani. At the same time I am a.s.signed a redneck lieutenant who runs roughshod over civilians in his attempt to prove some c.o.c.kamamie . . .
Commander Winters stopped at a signal. Slowly, the full impact of what Todd had told him began to sink in. Jesus. I may be in trouble too. Unlawful entry. Wrongful detention. They'll throw the book at Todd . . . He eased his car through the intersection. He mechanically put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. So I should be apologetic. But s.h.i.t. That Dawson woman is a reporter. Bad bad news.
He had arrived at the base. He waved to the security guard and drove on to where Todd had said they were keeping the trio. Winters stopped in front of a plain white building situated on a small hill about fifteen feet above the street level. A nervous Lieutenant Roberto Ramirez was waiting at the edge of the road. He was holding two large, thick envelopes in his hands. Ramirez turned and called something toward the front door. Todd came out in a moment. He locked the door carefully, came down the steps, and walked toward the other two officers. Ramirez was already showing the photographs to Commander Winters when Todd joined them. The three men had a short but animated discussion.
"So what happened after you received my message?" Carol turned to the other two as soon as Todd disappeared out the door. They had not had many chances to talk in private since Todd and Ramirez had taken them into custody in the parking lot at the Pelican Resort.
"Troy was ready to split," Nick laughed. "But I thought your warning only referred to the robot sentry. And since he had been quiet for several minutes, I figured we were already safe. I was still really p.i.s.sed off about the second bag of gold bars. So I hurried back over to the gate.
"I was concentrating so hard on finding a way to pull the bag through the opening that I must have been oblivious to everything else. Suddenly I felt Troy jerk me backwards. Maybe a second later two or three sharks, one definitely a mako, slammed hard into the gate. I was certain the gate was going to fall into pieces."
"Those sharks were really nasty, angel," Troy interjected. "And stupid too. The big one must have banged against the gate a dozen times before he gave up."
"The buoyancy bag with the gold bars was immediately ripped to shreds by the crazy sharks. They may even have swallowed most of the bars themselves. It was not fun being that close to them." Nick shuddered. "When I close my eyes I can still see that mako's teeth three feet away from me. I'll probably have bad dreams for years."
"I pulled Nick toward the ocean. I didn't want any part of those mean b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and I didn't trust the gate to remain intact in case they launched another attack. We made it out in record time. Of course, neither of us expected to be greeted by the U.S. Navy when we returned to the station wagon." Troy paused. "This Todd character, what's his problem any way? He sure thinks he's a bad a.s.s. Is he just p.i.s.sed because the professor decked him last night?"
Carol smiled. She reached her left hand over and put it on Nick's leg just above the knee. Her hand remained there while she was talking. "Todd is one of the naval engineers trying to find the lost missile. I'm certain that he and his men must have been responsible for the break-ins at Nick's apartment and my hotel room. Otherwise they wouldn't have detained us."
"What grounds do they have for holding us?" Nick inquired. He dropped his hand down and wrapped it around Carol's. "It's not against the law to have gold bars in a backpack. Don't we have rights as citizens that prevent this kind of thing?"
"Probably," Carol replied. She squeezed Nick's hand and then retracted her own. "But as a reporter, I find this part of our adventure extremely interesting. You can tell that Lieutenant Ramirez is very nervous. He wouldn't let Todd even ask us any questions until Commander Winters was contacted. And he has been very concerned about our comfort."
As if on cue, the front door opened and the three naval officers walked in. Winters was in the lead with the two lieutenants just behind. Nick and Carol and Troy were sitting on gray metal auditorium chairs on the left of a part.i.tioned area that served as a waiting room for the larger offices in the rear of the building. Winters moved into the area and half leaned against the large gray desk opposite them.
"I'm Commander Vernon Winters," he said, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "As Miss Dawson knows, I'm one of the senior officers on the base here. I am currently in charge of a secret project, code named Broken Arrow." He smiled. "I'm sure you are wondering why you have been brought to the base."
Winters reached out with his left arm and Ramirez handed him the infrared blowups that showed the missile in the most detail. He waved the photos at the three detainees. "One of the goals of project Broken Arrow is to find a Navy missile that has been lost somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. Lieutenant Todd here believes, based on these photographs, that you know where that missile is. That is why he has acted to bring you here for questioning." Winters' voice rose in pitch and he began to wave his arms. "Now I'm certain I don't need to remind you that state-of-the-art weapons systems are what keep our nation free and secure - "
"Spare us the patriotic lecture and the histrionics, Commander Winters," interrupted Carol. "We all know that you are searching for a lost missile and that you think we may have found it. Sorry. We went out looking for it today but were unable to locate it again." She stood up. "Now you listen to me a minute. Your zealous lieutenant there and his men have broken more laws than I can count. In addition to kidnapping us, they have looted and vandalized my hotel room and Mr. Williams' apartment. They have also stolen some photographs and valuable equipment." She fixed Winters with a hard gaze. "You sure as h.e.l.l better have good reason for dragging us down here or I swear I'll see to it that all three of you are court martialed."
Carol glanced at Ramirez. He was squirming. "In the meantime," she continued, "you can start by giving us an official, written apology, returning all our property, and making adequate payment for all the damages. In addition I want exclusive access to all Broken Arrow files from this moment on. If you don't agree to all these terms, you might as well prepare right now to read about the Gestapo tactics of the United States Navy in the next edition of the Miami Herald."
Uh oh, thought Winters. This is not going to be easy. This woman reporter intends to play the bluff and threat game. He pulled out a cigarette while he was thinking. "Would you please not smoke in here?" Carol broke into his train of thought. "We all find it offensive."
d.a.m.n these aggressive nonsmokers. He replaced the Pall Mall in the pack in his pocket. Winters had been thrown off at first by Carol's rapid attack, but he eventually regained his composure. "Now, Miss Dawson," the commander began a minute later. He looked away from the trio, in the direction of the front door. "I can understand why you might be upset by what has happened. I will admit that our men may indeed have acted in an unwarranted manner while they were searching your rooms to find evidence. However . . ." Winters stopped in mid-sentence, turned around, and came back toward Nick and Carol and Troy.