Page 24 of Beachcomber Danger

“I… don’t know.” She waved a hand. More military I guess.”

He nodded. “Plenty of that too. We did whatever we needed to do. From the basic aim and shoot to elaborate set ups.”

He watched the rise and fall of her breasts as she took a deep breath.

“How are you going to get your kit from the basement?”

He smiled. “It’s not in the basement. It’s in storage. I’ll have Ronnie make a special delivery. It should fit in the van he uses to deliver food for the Shark’s Table.”

“Have him stay and help me build it out. Have Tom help too.”

Dane nodded.

“This is going to cost a pretty penny,” Shana said.

“Would you rather stay and help with the build-out yourself?”

“Not on your life. I’ll be back at the shack with you, keeping an eye on our friends.”

“Speaking of whom, we need to get out of here.”

He slipped his arm around her and they walked to the corner of the small basement room to an alcove where there was a stairway leading to an exterior bulkhead.

He turned to Acer. “Make sure you hide this.”

Acer saluted them. “Make sure you send me down some food.”

Dane let Shana go through the bulkhead first. It opened up to a fenced-in area with a dumpster. The fence was closed all the way around and padlocked. That must make it tough for the garbage men Dane thought, apropos of nothing.

He lifted Shana up and she launched herself over like a gymnast doing a vault move. He was going to need to use the dumpster to get himself up and over, but he managed to do it without making a mess of himself. They would go around the front door and go inside and eat dinner now.

He landed on his feet and watched his girl straightening her elegant black dress. Without a word, he brushed some grime from the fence off her backside, letting his hand linger.

“Even the fence conspires to allow you a feel on a night when we need to be all business.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m focused exactly where I need to be.” He looked around the parking lot. A couple of young women laughed as they closed their car doors and headed to the restaurant.

“Front or back door?”

“Let’s go around front. We’ll follow the girls in. Less conspicuous.”

He put an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, the way he always did, the way he always would for the rest of his life, and they walked.

She laughed, head up and gazing at the stars as if this were a glorious night for a date and they were any normal romantic couple. His shoulder blades tightened because it wasn’t a romantic date, as much as he wanted it to be a night without danger. They would have their nights. Sometime. But this wasn’t one of them.

They walked in the front door and found the place packed. Dane shouldn’t have been surprised to see almost as many tourists as regulars.

He definitely wasn’t surprised to see federal agents still mixed in with the crowd, presumably regular Secret Service men and women doing their jobs. They were the plainclothes versions, the kind not trying to hide who they were, the kind purposely advertising their presence, shouting that they were on island to protect the President and that anyone who wanted to do him harm had fair warning. They were the deterrents, the expected official police presence.

Dane and Shana were seated at their table after only a two-minute wait at the bar—only enough time to get their drinks because they were given preferential treatment. All the wait staff treated Dane and Shana as if they were part owners. In truth, Dane felt more like a behind-the-scenes consultant and took pride in the fact that the place had flourished since he’d taken an interest in it after his first mission with Shana.

“We have to go back down. After Acer has a chance to set up and get us something.”

“Tonight?”

“We have twenty to thirty-two hours and counting before the shit hits the fan. I figure that’s how long it’ll take for Andrews’s boss to order us to throw Sassy and Ronnie out on the street. Then—”

“How can they do that? How can they force the issue?”