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“What do you think? Stop at half a mile?”
“Sounds good.”
They covered the distance in twelve minutes. To port, the island’s sloped moonscape rose from the beach to meet the rain forest. Sam slowed the dhow as Remi scanned the shoreline.
“This looks good here,” she said, then scrambled to the bow.
Sam turned to port, aimed the bow at the beach, and followed Remi’s curt directions until she called, “All stop.”
Sam throttled down, then collected their packs from the deck and met Remi at the pulpit. She lowered herself over the side, then Sam grabbed her wrists and lowered her the rest of the way. The water was waist-high. He handed down their packs.
“Come here,” Remi said.
“What?”
“Come here, I said.”
He smiled, then leaned his head over the side until she could crane her neck and kiss him on the cheek. She said, “Be safe. No drowning allowed.”
“Noted. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
THE NEXT PART of their plan turned out to be anticlimactic. Sam reversed the engines, brought the bow around, and took the dhow a few hundred yards off the coast, then turned off the engine and dropped anchor. He estimated there was fifty feet of water beneath the keel. He went below and opened each of the dhow’s five scuttle valves. When the water reached his calves, he went topside and dove over the side and began swimming. Five minutes later he stood up in the shallows and waded ashore to where Remi was waiting.
Together they watched the dhow settle into the water and sink from view.
Sam gave it a salute, then said, “Ready?”
Remi nodded. “Lead on.”
CHAPTER 18
BIG SUKUTI ISLAND
WITH SAM IN THE LEAD THEY WALKED IN SILENCE FOR FIFTEEN minutes, keeping to the harder wet sand until they came upon a twenty-foot-high rock outcropping bisecting the beach. Sam scaled up the slippery rocks, found a flat spot below the ridge, and peeked over. After a few seconds he turned and motioned for Remi to join him.
Together they poked their heads above the rocks. A few hundred yards down the beach they could see the dock jutting into the water. On one side the Njiwa was still moored, her interior cabin lights glowing yellow through sheer curtains; opposite her, both Rinkers were tied up as well. There was no sign of either the driver or passenger.
“They must have cut a few corners to get back so quickly,” Remi said.
“They probably move at a pretty good clip along the southern side. With the Big Eyes we saw on the roof earlier, nobody’s going to be sneaking up from that direction.”
“And at least we know where everyone is,” Remi added. “I don’t see any activity. You?”
“Nothing. We’ve got two choices, by land or by water.”
“There’s too much loose rock on the slope and no cover,” Remi said.
“Agreed. Water it is.”
“How’re we getting aboard the Njiwa?”
Sam zoomed his binoculars until he could see the yacht’s companion ladder. While it was less than five feet tall, its head was attached to the deck right in front of the cabin’s sliding door.
“Not by the ladder,” Sam said. He thought for a moment. “Back on the dhow I saw a sea anchor in the cabin—”
Remi reached over her shoulder and patted the backpack. “In here. Improvised grappling hook?”
“You read my mind. We hook the stern rail and shimmy up.”
