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“But look at the fucking weather!” she exclaimed, marching across the room and joining him at the window. “You can’t go sailing off into that. We have to come up with something else.”
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes.
“Elizabeth, do you think I’d be going if I thought for one minute I couldn’t handle it?”
“Uh… no… but…”
“Have you ever heard of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race?”
“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it.”
“It’s one of the most difficult races in the world. Storms called Southerly Busters wreak havoc. Many yachts resign before they’re even halfway through.”
“What’s your point?”
“I’ve sailed that race more than once, and fought through those Southerly Busters. They make the winds out there look like a gentle breeze, and the waves like ripples coming off a calm lake. Believe me, taking Hi Ho Silver back to St. Thomas isn’t an issue.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” she said softly, moving her arms around his neck. “We’ll battle the elements and whatever else together.”
“Absolutely not! If you’re seen we’re both screwed.”
“I suppose,” she admitted with a heavy sigh, “but you still haven’t told me what you’ll be doing.”
“I’m going to see Dan Miller, and make him an offer he can’t refuse,” Scott replied, the hint of a smile curling his lips. “If things go the way I believe they will, your former boss will be on the next plane down here, on his way to meet Conchello.”
With foul weather gear already on board the yacht, Scott needed only a few minutes to pack a small bag.
“I still wish you weren’t going,” Elizabeth muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t forget, you can watch me the whole time, but I need to explain a few things to you before I leave.”
Zipping up the bag, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, then walked to the security room and stopped at the door.
“The code is 2664,” he continued, punching it in. “Got it?”
“2664. Got it.”
“If you push a wrong button, you’ll hear beeps. You’ll have five seconds to do it correctly before a toxic gas is released and knocks you out.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“The code for the front door is 3775,” he declared, quickly leading her inside and marching to a metal box on the wall and opening the cover. “One number up for each of the digits for this room. The same rules apply. I’ve shown you how to view the security cameras from the computer. If you see anyone lurking around and feel threatened, this purple button will lower metal screens over the windows and a generator will kick in. That’s a backup in case someone tries to cut the power or bad weather knocks it out.”
“I know this is a safehouse, but just how—?”
“Sorry, Elizabeth, your questions have to wait. I’m also texting you the login information for the cameras on the yacht,” he continued, retrieving his phone and tapping the screen. “You can watch me take off through the telescope, and virtually travel with me to St. Thomas. Does that make you feel better?”
“Yes, thank you, that’s fantastic, but you’d better come back in one piece or I’ll be really pissed.”
“Hey, this is a walk in the park,” he said confidently, placing his phone in a zippered pocket, then holding her face between his hands, he lowered his lips on hers in a soft, leisurely kiss.
“I know what I’m doing,” he murmured. “You don’t have to worry.”
Abruptly turning and walking out the door, he heard it click closed behind him. He was confident, but like most missions, he knew anything could happen.
Dan Miller knew he was a dead man.
He just didn’t know why.
