"What is it?" Johnnie pulled the pistol out of his shoulder holster.

"Someone's been in here. My bag wasn't zipped all the way. Now it is."

He reached out an arm and eased her back against the wall. "Stay here."

Her heart was beating too fast. Holding the gun upright against his chest, Johnnie checked the closet, then silently made his way toward the tiny bathroom. He flattened himself against the wall, turned the k.n.o.b and shoved open the door. Bringing the gun into position in front of him, he disappeared inside.

He came out an instant later, looking relieved. "n.o.body here."

Amy's heart began to slow. She headed for the bathroom, walked inside to take a look around. "I left my makeup bag on the right side of the counter, but it was closer to the sink."

Like most women, she knew immediately if any of her things had been disturbed. In her apartment she knew where every dish went, every pot and pan. Someone had definitely been in their motel room.

"You sure?" Johnnie asked.

"Positive."

"Let's take a look, see if anything's missing." Both of them went through their bags.

There wasn't much besides their clothes in the room. Her pa.s.sport was with her in her purse, along with her wallet and money. Johnnie was carrying his weapons. He had tossed his gear bag, which held the extra ammunition, into the trunk of the car when they had left for the airport.

"I don't think they took anything," she said.

"Wasn't much to take," Johnnie said. "Maybe it was the cleaning staff."

"We left a do-not-disturb sign on the door. They wouldn't have come into the room."

"Probably not."

"Could have been a burglar looking for money."

"Could be, but I doubt it." He took another glance around. "Ortega's at the villa by now. Maybe his people got wind of our activity. Maybe they're trying to pin down who we are. If that's the case, they didn't find out much." Johnnie fixed her with a look. "Pack your stuff. When we leave we won't be coming back."

A little chill went through her. They were leaving The Orchid Inn.

Amy said a silent prayer that before they left Belize and headed back to the States, they would find Rachael. Or at least find out what had happened to her.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think what that might be.

Twenty-Five.

"We got everything?" Johnnie asked as he waited for the men to file past him out of the room onto the balcony that led to the stairs.

"We're packed and ready." Cantrell hoisted his duffel bag over his shoulder and starting walking.

Johnnie had interrupted the men's brief nap with the news that his room had been tossed and the motel was no longer safe, which meant all of them were leaving. But even if Ortega had found out Amy Brewer was in Placencia looking for her sister, he wouldn't know they had located his island and that there were three armed men ready to invade his private domain.

Amy spoke softly from beside him. "It's my fault we have to leave. I was asking questions about Rachael. I talked to two different women. I told them I was her sister. I should have figured someone at the villa would find out."

She looked so miserable Johnnie wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. "You don't get answers without asking questions. We wouldn't know about the island if it weren't for you."

"You did what you had to," Jake said as they reached the car. "It does, however, pose a problem." He looked over at Johnnie. "You aren't gonna like this, buddy, and I'm usually the last guy to go for something like this, but I'm thinking we should take her with us."

Johnnie's whole body tightened. "No way."

Sloc.u.m was nodding. "Good idea. We leave her with the boat or somewhere safe on the island, go in and see if we can locate her sister, then pick her up on the way out."

"It's too d.a.m.n dangerous," Johnnie argued. "Something happens to us, she's left in Ortega's hands."

"We leave her here without protection, she's liable to end up dead," Sloc.u.m said flatly. "Or we'll be looking for two missing women."

Amy squeezed Johnnie's hand. "Ben's right. I'm safer with you than I am without you. And if you...if you find Rachael, she might need me."

A muscle tightened in Johnnie's jaw. "d.a.m.n it!"

Jake reached for the door handle, opened the front pa.s.senger side of the rental car and settled Amy in the seat next to the driver. "Time to go, boys and girls."

Ducking his head, he slid into the backseat behind her, while Sloc.u.m rounded the car and climbed in on the opposite side. Johnnie slid behind the wheel, the three men filling the car completely.

Reluctantly, he started the engine, knowing the guys were right. He didn't have time to arrange protection for Amy and even if he did, he wouldn't trust someone else to keep her safe.

Instead of driving farther down the road to another motel, Johnnie pointed the car toward town and the small private dock he had found yesterday. Both sail and motor boats drifted in their slips, most of them available for tourist excursions, or half- or full-day rentals. Near the end of the dock, the boat he had paid way too much to rent for the next two days bobbed beneath its canvas cover.

Jake opened the trunk of the car. "You got anything dark to wear in your bag?" he said to Amy.

"Navy blue T-shirt."

He unzipped her bag and stepped out of the way. "Put it on."

"f.u.c.k," Johnnie grumbled, thinking that taking her on this mission was the last thing he wanted.

The men turned their backs as Amy changed from her white cotton blouse to the loose-fitting T-shirt. She was already wearing a pair of navy shorts. Not exactly the stuff for a midnight outing in the jungle, but Amy hadn't figured on coming along, either.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Jake unzipped his bag, pulled out a black baseball cap and jammed it on her head. It came all the way to her ears. "Put your hair up underneath."

She tucked her long blond ponytail up out of sight and tightened the band on the cap so it almost fit her.

The men set their gear bags down on the dock and Jake and Ben pulled the canvas cover off the boat.

"Wow!" Amy said. "Donzi 28 ZX with twin Merc 370s. Sweet."

Jake just stared.

Ben Sloc.u.m actually grinned.

"What?" Amy looked over at the men. "I'm from Michigan. We've got water on three sides."

"Her dad was a mechanic," Johnnie explained. "Liked fast cars...boats, too, looks like." He jumped into the c.o.c.kpit, then reached up to catch the gear bags as Ben tossed them down.

"Definitely a nice ride," Jake said, giving the boat a thorough inspection. It was candy-apple-red with orange flames running the length of it. "Good thing it's a dark night." It was near moonless, just a sliver of light mostly hidden beneath a thin layer of clouds, nothing to outline the boat on the water.

"Tops out at around a hundred," Johnnie said, giving the wheel a loving pat. "Guy charges seventy-five bucks a head for a twenty-minute ride." He reached up and helped Amy aboard.

"I wonder what else he uses it for," Ben said darkly. Drug smuggling was a big problem in Belize. Silver or lead was the saying. Take the money and keep quiet or end up with a bullet in your head.

Sloc.u.m unfastened the line and jumped into the boat and they settled themselves in the black-padded vinyl seats.

Johnnie fired up the big Mercury engines and idled the boat away from the dock. As soon as they were a respectable distance from the sh.o.r.e, he pushed the power lever forward and the boat picked up speed.

The Donzi was as quick and powerful as its owner had boasted, hitting the top of the waves then settling in and skimming over the flat, calm sea.

Johnnie eased the throttle a little faster, the wind rushing past his face, pressing his black T-shirt and camo pants against his body.

There was no adrenaline rush like speed.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Amy's grin.

She loved to go fast, always had. Amy allowed herself to enjoy the thrill of racing through the darkness, the boat skimming effortlessly over the smooth Caribbean Sea.

It was the rise of an island in the distance sometime later that shattered her brief tranquility and brought her crashing back to reality. They were on a deadly mission. Whatever happened tonight, they had come to the end of their search.

"Fifteen degrees to port," Jake said, reading the map and the GPS coordinates as Johnnie piloted the boat.

"Isn't that it?" Amy asked, pointing toward the island that was now disappearing behind them.

"Not the right one."

There were dozens of islands out there, some little more than sandbars, others mountainous and completely covered with vegetation. From the Google Earth satellite photos Johnnie had shown her on the computer, Ortega's mountainous island was mostly tropical jungle.

The boat continued its adjusted course and a few minutes later, Amy spotted another island on the horizon. They were still some ways away when Johnnie slowed the engines.

"The dock's on the leeward side," Jake said. "We need to come in windward."

Johnnie turned the wheel, heading the boat in that direction as per their plan, circling the island and coming in from the side facing the open sea.

As the engine slowed and the boat drifted closer, Ben stood up and peeled off his shirt. She had noticed he was the only one wearing a swimsuit and not camouflage. She had also noticed the guy was totally ripped. But then all three of the men, each built a little differently, were prime examples of the perfect male body.

Sloc.u.m slipped silently over the side of the boat and disappeared beneath the surface of the water, barely causing a ripple.

"Where's he going?" Amy asked.

"He's checking things out," Johnnie explained, "making sure it's safe to go ash.o.r.e."

"The lagoon's dead ahead," Jake said, looking down at the map.

Johnnie idled the boat a safe distance away, waiting for Sloc.u.m's signal. The night was on their side, only a faint rim of white around a fingernail moon that was mostly hidden by pa.s.sing clouds. Along the sh.o.r.e, a tiny light flashed three times.

"That's the signal," Jake said, and Johnnie eased the throttle forward.

Every second it took to reach the lagoon seemed like an hour to Amy. She had seen stuff like this in movies, men on combat missions armed with automatic weapons, but she had never thought she'd be smack in the middle of something like this.

As the boat drifted toward the beach, her nerves kicked up another notch. Her mouth was dry but her palms were damp. Johnnie shut down the engines, and he and Jake jumped out and pulled the boat up onto the sand beneath some overhanging foliage. Jake started hauling out their gear while Johnnie lifted her out of the boat. The men broke off some big leafy branches and covered the parts of the boat that were exposed. While they worked, Ben appeared and hurriedly changed into his cammies and then the men a.s.sembled their gear.

"I want you to wait for us here," Johnnie said, crouching in front of where Amy stood half hidden beneath a low-growing palm. His black T-shirt, wet and clinging, outlined the powerful muscles across his chest. He was wearing black face paint and he wiped some off and drew marks down her nose and across her cheeks. All of them smelled like the mosquito repellent they were wearing.

Amy stared up at Johnnie, who had never looked tougher or more completely male. He pressed his .38 revolver into her hand.

"I want you to stay out of sight. Anyone comes, just stay hidden until we get back. If you get in trouble, fire off a round. Can you do that?"

She just nodded, her throat too dry to speak.

"G.o.d, I hate leaving you here." And then he caught her chin between his fingers, bent and pressed a hot, hard kiss on her mouth.

"Be careful," she managed to squeak out, still tasting him on her lips. Other words crowded her throat. I love you, Johnnie. Amy didn't say them. She was aghast to realize she had even thought them. She couldn't afford to love a man like John Riggs. One look at him in his flak vest and camouflage pants, a long-barreled automatic weapon slung across his chest, a pistol in his shoulder harness, and a knife strapped to his leg, and it was clear he wasn't the man for her.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Johnnie reached out and gently touched her cheek, and then he and the other two men disappeared into the dense tropical foliage.

Ignoring the sound of insects and the small animals scurrying around nearby, Amy settled herself deeper in the greenery to wait.

And prayed with all her heart that the men would find Rachael and return to her safe.

They spotted two guards moving in opposite directions. Ben continued scouting ahead; Jake went after the guard heading north, while Johnnie took the one patrolling the south end of the island. Dressed in a khaki uniform, a slouch hat pulled low on his head, and carrying an automatic weapon, the man moved easily through the jungle.

For several minutes, Johnnie studied his quarry, noting his movements, the slow, easy strides that said he was used to the routine. The wiry guard paused for a moment, yawned behind his hand.

The guy wasn't expecting trouble, which was exactly what Johnnie planned to give him.

Circling quietly around in front, Johnnie crouched beneath the flat leaves of a giant elephant ear plant. When the guard reached the spot directly to his right, he sprang out of hiding, came up behind him, wrapped an arm around the man's throat, pressed a forearm against the back of his neck and squeezed. His struggles weakened as his air supply faded, and then he went out like a light, slumping down on the path.

Johnnie took the guard's automatic weapon, popped the clip and tossed it one way into the foliage, tossed the weapon in the opposite direction. He used a plastic zip cord to bind his wrists, another to bind his feet, gagged him and dragged him off the path.

He checked his watch. Time to head for the rendezvous point. With any luck, he'd get there right on schedule.

The night sounds faded into an ominous silence. Amy's heartbeat quickened as she caught the shuffle of something moving through the foliage in the darkness, heavy footfalls walking a nearby path in the jungle. She eased farther back into the shrubs and dense growth of plants and flowers, hoping she could make herself invisible to whoever was out there.

The shuffling sounds halted. From where she hid, all she could see was a pair of men's lace-up boots. They didn't belong to Johnnie, Jake or Ben, and fear slid through her.

Her pulse accelerated into a pounding roar in her ears. Her fingers tightened around the pistol in her lap. But Johnnie and the others were out there trying to find Rachael. She'd be d.a.m.ned if she would fire a shot and call them back unless she absolutely had to. Unfortunately, as the thud of a second set of footfalls began to reach her, she realized she might not have another choice.

Please, G.o.d.