Avery Snowden felt lower than a snake's belly as he watched the landscape whiz by. He wasn't used to failure. It just wasn't in his makeup.

"Where to, boss? You still want to go to the villa? You sure you don't want to talk this out before . . . those women hand us our asses on that silver platter you mentioned?" asked Jim Ryan.

"The villa. We need to get this over and done with."

The remainder of the ride to Annie's villa was made in total silence.

Failure was failure, no matter how you looked at it.

Chapter 20.

Charles Martin and Fergus Duffy stood eyeball to eyeball in the foyer of Hank Jellicoe's house. Charles reached out for the doorknob, then drew his hand back. He looked down at his watch. One hour and ten minutes had passed since Jellicoe had said they could leave.

Fergus chewed on his lower lip as he stared at the door that could lead him and Charles out of captivity. He was light-headed with the thought. He sucked in a deep breath and said, "Do it, Charles!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Charles reached once again for the ornately carved doorknob and thrust the door open. Wide. "Run, Fergus, like you've never run before!" he bellowed.

Fergus needed no more urging. He ran like the hounds of hell were behind him. Five minutes later, breathing hard and gasping for breath, the two men came to a halt along the side of the road and clung to each other.

"I think we made it, mate," Charles said, his face beet red from the hard run.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, we're free, Charles! We're free!"

His breathing returning to normal, Charles leaned back against a luscious palmetto and said, "There's free, and then there's free, Fergus. We still have to face . . . ah . . . the ladies, not to mention our island host, Angus Spyder. I don't know about you, but while I'm looking forward to it, I am also dreading it. The meeting with the women, not with Angus Spyder."

Fergus dropped to his haunches as he tried to get his breathing under control. "I think what you're trying to say is that if the women turn on us, we could be here for the rest of our lives, as guests of Angus Spyder."

Charles chuckled. "One thing is for certain. We'll be paying for our absence for the rest of our lives. Especially me. I left Myra high and dry. And then it all went to hell in a handbasket. The first thing we have to do . . . I have to do," Charles said, correcting himself, "is call . . . and report in. God alone knows what Lizzie is thinking, and I'm not talking about Lizzie Fox here."

"I'm no authority on women, Charles, and I am the last man who should be giving you advice, but I'd say that is the second thing you should do, not the first. Calling your childhood friend is not of the essence right now, and calling her isn't going to change anything at the moment, whereas-"

"I get it! I get it! And you are right. Have you given any thought to what you are going to say to Annie?" Charles asked, hoping to send the conversation in a different direction.

Fergus looked so uncomfortable, Charles took pity on him. "Just let the cards fall where they fall. Those women are human, you know. Well, at least at times they are," Charles said, correcting his statement. "Other times they-"

"Don't say it, Charles. Listen, I love that woman. Think about it. What's not to love? Annie is everything a man could want. She's witty, she's charming, she can shoot like a Wild West gunslinger, and she can pole dance. Her cooking leaves a lot to be desired, but I can live with that because my mum taught me how to cook at an early age. She can be kind, gentle, and she is caring. She's also an experienced safecracker. A woman of many talents.

"You don't know the half of what she gives away. She is probably the most generous person walking the face of the earth. Do you know that she has a pair of rhinestone cowgirl boots that she polishes regularly and that she has had resoled three times? She could buy new ones, but those boots mean something to her. Who does that these days? She used to drive me crazy when she'd wear that tiara. I just wish she weren't so rich. I have a hard time with that, like I told you. She's used to the fine things in life. I don't have anything to offer her but my pension, and it is so measly, it's not worth mentioning."

"And yet when you had a ton of money from your sweepstakes winnings, you gave it all away. Here's the thing, Fergus. Annie was devastated when you didn't ask her to go back to Scotland with you. Devastated. She doesn't care about your lack of money."

Fergus hung his head. "I thought about asking her to go with me, but my pride wouldn't let me. I had myself convinced she'd say no. I have a hard time with rejection, as do most men. She wouldn't have liked living there. She couldn't handle being dirt poor."

"Ah, but you see, my friend, that was her decision to make, now wasn't it? You made it for her instead, and now look at what and where you are. Women do not like it when men make decisions for them. I did learn that the hard way. Come along now. We've dillydallied long enough. We need to face the lionesses and take whatever is coming our way."

Charles clapped his friend on the back and urged him forward. "It feels great, doesn't it, Fergus?"

"You mean that we're walking on our own to either our salvation or our doom?"

"I suppose you could put it like that. If it is any consolation to you, my insides are in double knots. I'm hoping for the best and expecting the worst."

Fergus stopped in midstride. He looked around. "There's no one following us, Charles. Where is that insane man who owns this island? Why isn't someone chasing us?"

Charles looked around. All he could see were palm trees swaying in the breeze. The scent of the island flowers was heady. He looked out at the ocean as the small waves washed to shore. A paradise of sorts, if you didn't peel back the layers of evil that lived here. "To answer your questions, Fergus, I do not know. I think we should pick up our pace, in case this is some kind of fluke and we get ambushed."

By the time the two former prisoners reached Annie's villa, they were sweaty and disheveled. They looked at one another and groaned out loud.

"So, what do we do? Do we just march up to the door and ring the bell? Is there some kind of protocol that we should be observing in a situation like this? I feel like I'm out in left field, with no ball in the air. Oh, I hear people. Sounds like it's coming from the back of the property. Maybe we should go around. There might be a lanai, like at Jellicoe's house. What do you say, Charles? You're top gun here."

Charles pondered the questions. If he was top gun, as Fergus implied, it was a position he didn't want or need. His stomach felt like an army of angry wasps were chewing away at his insides. Plus, his mouth was dry, and he knew he looked awful, probably as awful as Fergus looked.

The two men walked single file along a colored flagstone walkway to the rear of the property, where a loud conversation mixed with laughter could be heard. When one especially loud voice permeated the air around them, Charles reached out to pull Fergus to a stop. "I think that's Avery Snowden talking. That means the girls and Avery and his men are here on a mission."

"To free us?" Fergus hissed in Charles's ear.

"No. I think we came with the deal. They came here because of our host, Angus Spyder. I don't know that for sure, but what I do know for sure is there is no way Myra and the girls could possibly have known we were here. We need to think of ourselves as a bonus, Fergus." Fergus looked so crushed, Charles patted him on the back. "Regardless, they're here, we're here, and as far as I'm concerned, we're rescued. Shhh. What's Avery saying? My hearing isn't as sharp as it once was. Can you hear?"

"He's being a bleeding heart. He just told them that Hank Jellicoe got away. He's apologizing all over the place and taking full responsibility. Avery is saying that Jellicoe has a new identity or used it here on the island. Said he goes by the name Charles Bennett Diamond. The workers called him Charlie or Chuck. Not that any of it helps us right now."

"How are the women taking his confession?" Charles asked as he cupped his hand around his right ear in an attempt to hear better.

Fergus grimaced. "I'm hearing some spicy, dicey words. Most from Annie and Kathryn. The others are muttering, but I can't make out what they're saying. We're going to be Snowden's encore, Charles."

Charles pulled a face and backed up a few steps, pulling Fergus with him. "Maybe we need to fall back and regroup," he said nervously. "All their venom is going to spill over onto us when we make our presence known. What do you think, Fergus?"

Fergus didn't know what to think. He closed his eyes, hoping something would come to him. Nothing did. He didn't object when Charles dragged him farther back into the flower-scented foliage.

"We should go back till we decide what to do," Charles whispered.

"To that house! Never!" There was such outrage in Fergus's voice, Charles flinched. "Listen, Charles, how bad can it be? They scream and yell at us, they chastise us, and then they end up throwing their arms around us, knowing we are safe and sound and didn't really abandon them. Think about it."

"I'm thinking you are insane that you think as you do. That simply is not going to happen. I need to think. I wish I had a cigar."

"I wish I was on an airliner at thirty thousand feet and headed for the States. A cigar is not going to cut it, my friend. How much longer do you think Avery and his people are going to take that dressing-down? They should be headed our way any minute. Make a decision, Charles, and make it quick."

"They'll stay until those women say they can leave. You know how they work. But you're right. They should be cutting them loose shortly. The big question is, do they stay or do they go, go meaning 'to leave the island'?"

"Look, Charles, Snowden is your compadre. Why don't we just lie in wait, and when he leaves, we follow him and his men? He's not going to blow the whistle on us. Or will he? You know him. What is your opinion?"

"We're so close, Fergus. We can hear our beloveds' voices."

"Yeah, well, I'm not hearing any kind, endearing words, that's for sure. Going in there now would be the same as sending a hen into the fox den, or whatever that saying is."

"So, then, your vote is to go with Snowden when he leaves?"

"Damn straight that's my vote."

"Then I guess it's mine, too. Can you hear anything this far back?"

"No. It's quiet. Oops, they're leaving and heading our way. Do we just fall in line or what?"

"Yes, and don't speak above a whisper. Let me do the talking."

Super-spook that he was, Avery Snowden almost peeled out of his skin when Charles stepped out of the bushes and onto the path.

"Just keep walking and act like we're part of the group," Charles said.

"What the bloody hell-"

"Never mind that. What happened back there?" Charles asked, drifting closer to Snowden, Fergus right behind him. It was a flawless fill-in, and he was certain that if anyone was watching, they would not immediately notice the two extra men on the team.

"What happened was I got my arse handed to me is what happened. I let Jellicoe go free. For the second time. I expected to be handed my walking papers, but it didn't happen. While vitriolic, the women didn't fire me. Because . . . Jellicoe was not the primary objective when we arrived here. In fact, we weren't even sure he was here. Nor were we certain you were here. Like the Yanks say, Jellicoe was the cherry on top. You and Fergus are two more diamonds in the countess's tiara. They don't even know for sure that you're here. They're bitter-make no mistake about that-but they're also intelligent women. There are just some things that no amount of planning can foresee."

Snowden looked around at his posse and said, "Close in and shield these two as we go up the stairs."

Inside the cool, lavish apartment suite, Snowden whipped around and said, "Talk!"

Ninety minutes later everyone was caught up. The huge pile of ham sandwiches was gone, only crumbs remaining. The beer bottles stood sentinel on the kitchen countertop.

Charles threw his hands in the air. "Now what?"

"Now this," Snowden said as he whipped his computer into place and booted it up. "Abner Tookus is logged on to Spyder's computer. His new crew is due at the north end of the island in four hours. Three now. Spyder rotates his security crews every three to four months. According to Tookus, once in a while he makes them stay six months. What that means is this crew is new. They've never been here before. Twenty men out of Miami. He pays top dollar, so every hired gun who can shoot straight applies for the job, and Spyder isn't particular. The only real professional on a par with Jellicoe was Don Finley. I explained all this to the women. With a three-hour window to do whatever they have to do, it is going to be dicey. We also have to think about the wife and daughter."

"What about that yacht moored out there?" Fergus asked.

"We have to get them there. Spyder had the launch with nine of Jellicoe's men blown up. Just like that!" Snowden said, swallowing hard. "The man, and I use that term loosely, is one wild-assed son of a bitch."

"So he's unguarded and vulnerable right now?" Fergus asked.

"Yes, except for the two women, and don't forget, the girl is in a wheelchair. That's an additional problem right there."

"How did you leave it with Myra, Annie, and the girls?" Charles asked.

"They were switching gears and reformulating their plans. Jack Emery said there are two cigarette boats and one regulation speedboat in the boathouse. I didn't ask him how he knew that, either, so stop glaring at me, Charles."

Charles ignored Snowden's remarks as he tried to figure out the timeline and what Myra, Annie, and the girls might have in mind. "How long does it take to get to the north end of the island, where that little airport is?"

"Thirty, thirty-five minutes tops. Annie's plane is on the runway, gassed and ready to take off when she gives the okay. The airport has only two short runways. We're going to need a diversion at the airport when that new security crew arrives. I'm thinking a welcoming committee of sorts to slow things down. Jack Sparrow is here. He's the current director of the FBI. Not that he has any jurisdiction here, but he sure as hell can play the part. He can say Angus Spyder sent him to bring them to his end of the island. Their firearms, I assume, will be in their bags. The only glitch to that is Spyder getting in touch with them. He can't do it while they're in the air. But the minute they land, he can. Unless that genius Tookus can scramble his signal. Dicey at best."

"Did you explain all that to Myra, Annie, and the girls?" Charles asked.

"I did. Then I repeated it all. At that point I left. You do realize that Spyder can see every inch of this end of the island, right?"

Charles and Fergus both nodded.

"Our best bet would be to get to the women, but he'll still see us coming. I'm sure a man like him would have a safe room, a bunker of sorts, and he's holed up in there at the moment. The wife might be of some help. She does live there. She might know how to entice him out or how we can blow our way in. We can't count on it, though."

"Three hours!" Charles said.

"And counting," Snowden replied.

"We need to go back to Annie's villa," Charles said.

Snowden agreed.

Fergus looked green around the gills, but he got to his feet, ready to follow his leaders.

"Avery, call ahead and have Sparrow head to the airport now. See who he wants to take with him. Maybe Ted or Jack. He can't go alone. Unseen firepower, to let those men know he's in charge. By the way, is Harry Wong here?"

"You bet. Everyone is here."

"Harry is his own army, and with Yoko at his side, we've won the war," Charles said, feeling better immediately.

"You're sure there are two cigarette boats and one speedboat?" Fergus asked.

"If Jack said there are two cigarette boats and one speedboat, then yes is the answer," Snowden shot over his shoulder. "C'mon. Move it, men. The clock is ticking."

Fergus looked at his watch. So did Charles.

Chapter 21.

Jack Emery likened what was going on at Annie's villa to a Chinese fire drill gone wrong. The women were shedding their disguises and doing their best to scrub off the brown dye on their skin.

"I didn't like pretending to be a guy," Isabelle groused as she scrubbed harder.

"I hate wearing baseball caps and messing up my hair," Nikki grated as she did her best to fluff out her blond locks. "And your head sweats!"

"No flip-flops, girls. Lace-up sneakers. We need to be steady on our feet. Fashion doesn't count," Kathryn said as she bent over to tie her Nikes into a snug knot. She stretched out her bad leg and winced. The others pretended not to notice.

"I think Harry and I had the worst costumes," Yoko said as she piled up the pounds of clothing Alexis had assigned to both her and Harry to make them appear ancient. "I feel like I can breathe again." To prove her point, she danced around the lanai, doing a few pirouettes for everyone's benefit. Harry beamed his pleasure as he flexed his fingers.

Jack felt as jumpy as a cat in the middle of a rainstorm. Something was niggling at him. Something he was sure he had missed. He said so aloud. Everyone just looked at him, but no one offered any advice. "Anyone want my push-up bra?" he said, twirling it in the air for all to see.

He had no takers, so he tossed it into the bushes. "Your loss. It had modesty pads."

In spite of himself, Harry burst out laughing. Harry never laughed.