The hair on Mac’s neck stirred again in silent warning.
This time he didn’t ignore it. He got his binoculars out of the small duffel he always carried, and took a good, long look from the cover of the cabin.
You’re being paranoid, the civilian part of himself said.
The part of him that had been honed to a killing edge years ago just kept memorizing faces, features, and boat registration numbers.
3
DAY ONE
BELLTOWN MARINA
AFTERNOON
Put me ashore there,” Emma said, pointing at the dock next to the Belltown Marina.
“Isn’t your car back at-”
“My problem, not yours,” she cut in.
While Josh headed for the dock, she stripped off the red Mustang suit and secured the camera in her backpack. They had wallowed behind in Blackbird’s wake for fifteen minutes, long enough for Emma to realize that solo surveillance on the water was even trickier than on city streets. Joe Faroe would be flying in as soon as he could, disguised as a tourist. Any more obvious backup for what was supposed to be an insurance investigation would send off warning bells in the wrong places.
All she could do was pray that Alara had some trustworthy people on the ground.
Or not.
Leaks were something Emma didn’t want to share.
Josh brought the Zodiac up to the hotel dock, cutting his speed at the last moment and killing all momentum with a short burst of reverse power. Emma stood poised, one foot on the black rubber gunwale, and stepped off just a second before the Zodiac touched the dock.
“Call me if you want a different kind of tour,” Josh said, watching her hips.
With a cheerful wave, Emma went quickly up the ramp that led to Western Avenue. As she walked, she pulled out St. Kilda’s version of a sat/cell phone. The parts she most appreciated were the long-lived battery and built-in scrambler.