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Both men scanned the crowd for any sign of Nico’s men but didn’t see any. Perhaps the last place they’d think to search was a ferry back to St. John. The irony of it wasn’t lost on Asia. She knew this was tempting fate, but she was in this now. They all were.
Once the ferry was out of the harbor, the men seemed to relax and enjoy the scenery on the fifteen-minute cruise. Asia had noticed that a lot of the vehicles on board were pickup trucks and other work-type vehicles, perhaps headed to the other island to make repairs, and she wondered if St. John had sustained more damage than St. Thomas.
Soon, St. John loomed like a dark shadow on the horizon, and a feeling of foreboding settled in her chest. It made her question if this trip was as insane as Dusty had claimed.
As they drew nearer, houses became visible. She knew Nico’s place was on the other side. She bit her lip, her stomach knotting. “Do you think his men will be waiting?”
“Nah,” replied Stan. “You were last spotted on St. Thomas. Why in the hell would you go back? This is the last place they’ll be looking for you.”
They passed another auto-ferry returning to St. Thomas as they entered the harbor. The sun was setting, casting everything in an orange glow.
The water was as smooth as glass, and Asia couldn’t help feeling it was the calm before the storm. Only this storm would have nothing to do with the weather.
Gulls flew out to meet the boat, circling overhead, then flying back to shore.
“Come on.” Dusty took her arm.
They moved toward the rear of the boat and down a flight of stairs to the lower deck. Then down between the tight rows of pickups, jeeps, and cars to their vehicle.
The eastern side of the island had much calmer seas, which Nico had told her was why he had an estate on that side.
They drove off the ferry and headed out through Cruz Bay. The roads were steep, narrow, potholed, and winding.
They found the drive that led to Nico’s estate. It was unmarked, but from the Tri Star team’s research in preparation for this mission, they knew it by heart. Darkness was beginning to fall as Stan parked on the side of the road.
“Whatever happens, we need to be on the last ferry back to St. Thomas at 11p m,” Dusty murmured. “We miss that boat, then we miss our exfil tonight with Chris.”
“Can’t you have him get us here?” Asia asked.
“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Dusty replied. “We didn’t tell him about this.”
“Obvious reasons,” Stan said, glancing back at her. “It’s looney-tunes.”
“You said it could work, asshole,” Dusty snapped.
“I lied. We’ve got about a thirty percent chance, if I’m being honest.”
“I really hate you right now, Stan,” Dusty muttered, staring out the window.
“Bite me. She’s your girl. I don’t see you stoppin’ her.”
Dusty whirled back. “Because you keep egging her on.”
“Whatever. This kind of thing gets my blood pumping. Let’s roll.”
Stan climbed out and popped the trunk, passing out their gear. The men strapped on their weapons.
“Stay behind us,” Dusty ordered, taking Asia’s chin and catching her eyes. “Understand?”
She nodded, and they went on foot up the drive in the darkness. Both men moved in a systematic formation, jogging and keeping low. They paused every so often, squatting down to look through their sights and study the estate.
“It seems quiet,” Dusty whispered.
“Too quiet,” Stan hissed back. “I wonder if something’s up.”
Asia pointed over Dusty’s shoulder. “She was at the end of that wing on the right.”
He nodded, and they moved forward, keeping down and low amongst the landscaping until they came alongside a veranda.
