“Any word on him?”
“Nothing. Dot was trying to get some tracker dogs up here, but she had no luck.” Brandon growled. “I don’t know why Georgie’s protecting him.”
“He probably saved them,” Sam said. “Do you think those guys out at Muiron were just poachers?”
“I’m not discounting anything.”
“Stonefish are tenacious,” Sam said. Stonefish had been beaten at every turn and had lost some people who were high in the organisation.
“I was worried they’d come after Georgie, but it’s been quiet. It’s making me nervous.”
Sam understood how he felt. He finished the fishing line and bit into the banana cake. He groaned. “Wow, this is good.”
“Ames has got talent,” Brandon agreed, biting into his slice.
The radio came to life with Amy’s voice. “Dot and Nhiari are on their way. They were at the airport, so they shouldn’t take long to get there. Dot said not to touch anything.”
Sam handed the radio to Brandon so he could answer and got to his feet. Time to get to work.
The sound of an engine reached him and he exchanged a glance with Brandon. Far too early to be Dot and Nhiari, unless Amy and Penelope had got hold of them on the journey back and not told them.
He wouldn’t put it past them.
He and Brandon worked together to gather their things and move off the beach, down amongst the red dirt and scrubby trees.
Brandon settled low on the dunes, rifle pointed towards the sound.
“How far?”
“Could be another ten minutes. Hard to tell when it’s this still. Noise carries.”
“Should I check the package?”
Brandon nodded. “If the car is Stonefish, and that’s a weapons cache, they’ll have the advantage.”
Sam grabbed the esky lid and moved fast, taking the hook he’d fashioned over to the bundle. His heart slowed, and he regulated his breathing, focusing on the task at hand. Brandon had his back. He didn’t have to worry about the approaching car. All he had to do was hook the canvas and pull it back. The esky lid would provide a little protection if shrapnel was involved. Not a lot, but it was better than nothing.
He crouched low, holding the lid in front of him, and then hooked the canvas, pulling it slowly away, inch by inch, ready for anything.
No click to signal he’d triggered anything, no explosion, nothing.
He counted to twenty, standing still holding the lid as a shield before he shifted, and moved forward to peer into the hole.
Holy shit.
He whistled low and moved around the other side of the hole. A glance at Brandon showed he was still monitoring the approaching vehicle, binoculars to his eyes. He lifted his hand in a gesture which said it was safe and stood.
Must be the police.
Sam turned his attention back to the package and peeled back the other side, careful to keep the esky lid lifted.
No bang.
Again, he counted to twenty before he stood and checked the hole. This was no dead body, nor was it anything that had been buried during the wreck of the Retribution. This was pure twenty-first century weaponry.
Hand guns, semi-automatics, a sniper rifle and a bag Sam would bet had cash or drugs in it. Maybe both.
He radioed the homestead. “Dot and Nhiari are just about here. Will contact you when we need a pick up.”
