Carly scrunched her face up and gave Reed a doubtful look. "I don't want to eat things that aren't good for me, I might get sick and die, like my real mommy."

Reed frowned, "Did Julia tell you that honey?"

Carly shook her head, "No, I figured that out myself. She told me that you and mommy went to some place called Afghanistan and that now mommy is living with the Angels. Is that right daddy?"

Looking out at the traffic for a long time Reed finally looked at his daughter, smiled and said, "You know I don't like talking about all that kind of stuff honey, it all happened such a long time ago. I know it's hard for you right now, but maybe when you are older you will understand."

"Oh, I understand," said Carly, her voice matter of fact. "And I don't mind, not a single bit. I like Angels, I like them a lot. When they come and visit, they help me tidy my room."

Reed looked out into the traffic, saw it beginning to move, so he slid his foot off the break and let the big SUV roll forwards. Jeez he thought, kids say the craziest things sometimes.

54.

Oahu, Hawaii Donald Mlama didn't look surprised to see her. Sure, he stopped dead on the quayside for a double- take second while he processed the scene, but he corrected so seamlessly, the untrained observer might have taken this pause as the prelude to some kind of delighted welcome.

"This is a pretty nice boat you got here Donald," said Karyn, her feet resting on the stern." "I thought I might b.u.mp into you Ms. Kane.

You will have to excuse me, but I have a busy day ahead of me. If you have any further questions regarding the Johnston case, I suggest we meet up in my office at a more mutually convenient time-" "Cut the bulls.h.i.t Donald and climb on board. I want to talk to you now."

Donald Mlama looked nervously over his shoulder, like he was making ready to run off down the quayside. "I don't know that would be such a good idea Ms. Kane. I understand there were a series of unfortunate events last night, events that fall outside my jurisdiction."

"Have you heard yourself Donald? You sound like Lemony Snicket. Now climb aboard right now, or I am liable to get all cranky and you better trust me when I tell you that you don't want that to

happen."

Mlama paused, his lips working like he was going to let rip with some smart a.s.sed comment, then suddenly thought better of it. He made as though he was going to climb aboard, but Karyn held up her hand, "Hold it. Stop right there."

The Chief paused, one foot riding the quayside, the other reaching out for the boat, "What in the h.e.l.l are you talking about Kane? You want to talk to me, so I am coming aboard." His foot wavered mid air and he said, "It is my G.o.dd.a.m.n boat after all, you shouldn't even be here." The words came hollow, like he was trying to believe them himself.

"Can the righteous indignation Donald. Save it for someone who gives a d.a.m.n and while you are about it, take your left hand and very carefully reach out that snub nosed .38 you have got nestling down the back of your pants. I wouldn't want you to blow yourself a new a.s.shole before I have had chance to pipe you aboard."

"I am the Chief of Police, I have a license for that weapon, d.a.m.n you."

"Real cute Donald. You sound like you got yourself a halo to polish. Now, do as I tell you-do it slow and easy and once you are done reaching it out, I want you drop that bad boy into the ocean."

"I have had this gun for close to twenty years d.a.m.n you, it was a present from Daryl Gates."

"You ever shoot anyone with it Donald?"

"No, I never had to," said Mlama. "But that's hardly the point, the weapon has sentimental value."

"I can understand why a family man such as yourself would get all sentimental Donald. You got your pretty wife to think about, your kids and career too, I could understand you getting all weepy about something like that, but crying over some hunk of oily metal? You got to be kidding me right?"

Mlama gave her a nasty look. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue some more, then his eyes ranged down and saw the Sig Saur with the black suppressor sitting in her lap.

Karyn gave him a pleasant smile, "What's the matter Donald, are you thinking I can't take you out right here and now? Perhaps you think you can pull one of those fast little gun fighter moves they teach you down at the Police Department pistol range? Well, be my guest. But, it would all be rather messy wouldn't it, you bleeding out, all over this lovely white upholstery?"

Mlama looked sour faced. He reached out the gun as directed, holding it gingerly between finger and thumb and dropped it into the soft lapping ocean that played against the dockside. The water swallowed the gun whole, with barely a sound. "You don't know what you are dealing with Kane," he said gruffly.

Karyn nodded and said, "So step aboard Donald. Sit yourself down and tell me all about it."

Donald Mlama climbed stiffly aboard. His face taught and grey. He looked like a man who was about to take a long walk into d.a.m.nation. Karyn rose up out of the big white reel chair and directed his pa.s.sage with the tip of her gun. "No, not there, over here." She pointed towards the wheelhouse with her gun.

Mlama looked at the captain's chair, then back at Karyn, his mouth working open and shut, like a puzzled guppy. "You have got to be kidding me."

Karyn raised her gun. "Do I look like I am joking?"

He looked at her then, looked at the gun and gathered his thoughts very carefully, "No, I don't suppose you do," he said.

Karyn smiled, gave a quiet nod then said, "So, be a good boy, and hop in the chair, we are going on a little sightseeing trip."

He looked alarmed then, just the briefest hint of desperation flashing across his face. He tried to correct, tried to make out things were copacetic, but Donald Mlama's world was in turmoil, every safe little convenience he had taken for granted in his life thus far swept away by a wave of growing horror.

"There isn't enough fuel to go anywhere," he stammered, his guppy lips working open and shut.

"Yes there is," said Karyn flatly. "We are going on a little fishing trip Donald and I better catch the answers I am looking for, or you and me are going to have a little fall out."

"You can't do this-what about regulations? There are rules to be followed-Laws-If you think you are going to intimidate me into making some kind of spurious admissions Kane, I will report to your superiors at the Justice Department-They will throw your a.s.s in a sling when they get to hear of this."

Karyn scrunched her face. "That little statement right there Donald is an indication of just how much trouble you are in."

He paused then, his guppy mouth falling slowly wide, as the implications. .h.i.t home. "You are not from the Justice Department at all, are you?"

Karyn gave him a dead look. "You ain't the Chief of Detectives for nothing are you Mlama? He stared back at her. She could see the pulse in his neck pounding, he licked his lips and said quietly, "You cannot kill me-you would never get away with it."

"You would be surprised what I can get away with," said Karyn. "Now, get this boat into gear, we are heading, up the coast." Mlama moved wordlessly into the Captain's chair and started the boats engines. As they roared into life, foaming water boiled at the stern. Karyn popped her switchblade and cut the mooring ropes, all the while keeping her gun carefully trained on Mlama. Released from its moorings, the powerful boat cut out into the channel, quickly moving towards the open sea. Karyn stood right behind Mlama, pressing the hard black barrel of the Sig into his spine, letting him know who was in charge; letting him understand that if he tried anything- anything at all-this was one sailing trip he would never come back from.

55.

The Pacific Buchanan moved up the ladder first, climbing high over the top of the bridge, then moving higher onto the spine of the ship. Kellerman followed after him. Together they began winding their way around the communications antenna and the satellite navigation boxes. There were a dozen bullet holes in the Sat-nav boxes; high-velocity rounds had torn into the complex electronics leaving a spew of blackened wires shorting into each other. No wonder the electronic systems had been unable to cope, thought Kellerman darkly.

"Hey, would you keep your G.o.dd.a.m.n head down," hissed Buchanan. "If they see us dancing along the roof, those slime b.a.l.l.s are liable to cut us into bacon strips."

"I am doing the best I can, you patronizing b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I thought I had heard the last of you when that rocket went off earlier, and now here you are again even more of a pain in the a.s.s than you ever were."

Buchanan turned and gave her a look. "A simple thank you would be nice, but I will let that slide, on account of the fact you are sh.e.l.l-shock cranky, and you got more soot on you than a Siamese stoker on full-ahead Friday."

Kellerman rolled her eyes, "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about Buchanan?"

Buchanan crouched low, held his arm out to quiet her down. He remained motionless for a long moment his predatory eyes surveying the deck below.

Kellerman hung onto one of the antennas, her feet sliding across the sloping roof towards the precipitous edge. It was a long way down, a very long way and it wouldn't be an easy fall-there were a lot of things to hit on the way down- protruding gantries, metal rails and steel cabling. Kellerman clung tighter to the antenna. Maybe if she launched her self out, she would clear the hard deck and fall into the ocean, but what then?

The ocean swell played hard against the side of the ship, magnified by the backwash from the Wonsungi. Kellerman took a hard swallow. If the pirates still had their vessel with them, that seemed to indicate they were planning to use it again-and that would mean that the Nautilus would no longer be needed. Clinging to the antenna, Kellerman drew her feet back, away from the edge of the roof. She pressed her knees hard against her chest, feeling the rea.s.suring weight of the AK-47 slung around her neck. If they were seen now, there would be no way she could hold on and fire at the same time. She would fall off the roof for sure-either that, or be shot off. Kellerman wanted to close her eyes-the lull in the fighting had given her time to think and she didn't like the thoughts that were surfacing. She turned to Buchanan and hissed at his back, "So what now genius?"

Buchanan half turned and over his shoulder said, "We get the h.e.l.l out of here is what-would you quit with the griping? Anyone would think you had something to complain about."

"How long before they figure out we are not trapped in the bridge?" "Not long, those slippery little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds will be on to us before you know it, which is why we have to play it smart and stay off their radar just as long as we can."

"So what are you waiting for? Let's go. We camp out up here any longer and I am liable to get a friggin' sun-tan." But Buchanan was off again, bounding across the spine of the ship, like a great ape swinging through the jungle-Christ, the guy knew every inch of this ship-it was his domain.

Kellerman sucked up a deep breath and followed him as best she could. It wasn't easy, her feet slip- slided about on the sloping surfaces and the swaying vertigo of the ships motion was magnified with each faltering step-the sick, stale taste of adrenaline queezed through her. She tried closing her eyes, and moving forwards by touch, but it was no use, with every additional step she took, the terror pulsed faster, churning through her until she could bear it no longer. They were on top of the winch housing now, just a few more steps and they would be back in the land of safety-rail stairways- The shouts came first, from back up the spine of the ship. Then came the bullets singing so close Kellerman could feel their pa.s.sage, as they zipped past her head. She tried to hurry forward, but lost her footing. She reached out to save herself, but gouged her hand. Sharp metal bit deep into her flesh, a jagged pain flashed through her. The momentum of the fall sent her spinning downwards onto a steel lattice gantry. The impact was so hard she felt the world spin out of focus- Then-gunfire-lots of gunfire-cartridge cases falling all around her.

The blurred world came back into sharp focus. Kellerman felt strong hands tugging at her arm. "Come on, we have to get out of here right now."

She felt a question rising to her lips, but her battered consciousness could no longer put words to the feelings, as they rose up within her. She struggled to her feet and staggered forwards-"my gun," she said at last. "I lost my gun."

Buchanan's word came back hard and urgent, "Forget about the gun, we are out of ammo."

Again, Kellerman felt a question rising within her, but the steel grip that encased her arm pulled her roughly forwards-"Come on, let's go. We are getting out of here."

Kellerman liked those words. They were the kind of words she could follow to the ends of the earth. The words conjured up images of a warm Medivac helicopter, followed by a lengthy rest in a bed with cool crisp sheets-maybe she would be able to lay back for a while, get some rest, fall asleep to the sound of some forties movie on TCM channel-knowing that once she awakened, she would still have a cold-cut sandwich and half bottle of lightly chilled Chardonnay waiting for her in the refrigerator.

She stepped out into nothingness. This didn't seem right- She hit the water hard and went under.

The ocean. She was in the G.o.dd.a.m.n ocean.

Panic seized her. She felt her heart beating so hard now it seemed like it was going to pound its way out of her chest. She wanted to take a breath, but couldn't. She was sinking, the glittering sun kissed surface of the Pacific growing farther and farther away, with each panic-stricken beat of her heart.

She saw the bullets now, a deadly fusillade cutting through the water. Sinking lower, her heavy waterlogged clothes pulling her down. Kellerman remembered how she had fallen overboard once before-on her maiden voyage for Christ's sake- she should have taken it as an omen. Back then-it seemed so long ago now-she had been wearing a life jacket, she had triggered the emergency inflator, knowing that as she trailed behind in the wake of the ship, she had a better than even chance of being saved. Not now. She had no life jacket, no concerned shipmates fighting to drag her to safety. All she had now was the deep, deep, ocean and a firestorm of hot bullets cutting into the water around her.

This was the end.

She was going to die for sure.

56.

Langley, Virginia In the strip light perma gloom of the CIA situation room, the Admiral looked at Jack Senegar and said, "Where is the girl?"

Senegar consulted his laptop, "She is going for a little cruise."

"A cruise?" roared the Admiral, "You hear that Parker, The girl is going on a cruise." A look that might have pa.s.sed for the briefest of smiles flittered across Parker's face. "Tell me," said the Admiral, "Just who is that little girl of mine taking on this cruise and where is she headed?"

Senegar pushed b.u.t.tons on his laptop and a series of global positioning maps flashed up on the big wall screens.

The Admiral studied the wide screen images and nodded thoughtfully. "The Big Island. So, it is just as we thought. She is a smart little b.u.t.ton that girl of mine." The Admiral tapped his fingers on the desk and turned his sharp, a.n.a.lytical gaze to Jack Senegar, "Any further intelligence from our friends in the Bureau?"

"There were more casualties last night, the Oahu office is buzzing wilder than a hornets nest. There is so much signals traffic coming out of there my people can barely keep up,"

"And the upshot is?" asked the Admiral coldly.

"The hostiles are wise to the a.s.set. Our girl is compromised."

"Then she can be of no further use-or can she? I am thinking we should let her follow through with this play Jack, see where she takes it." Senegar said, "She has taken the game to the exact point I predicted."

"You certainly like to shake things up Laddie, I commend you for that," said the Admiral.

His eyes had a fiery tinge, shining wild like a tigers. Senegar didn't react. He looked at the tiny blip as it tracked slowly out into the Pacific Ocean, heading towards the Big Island. According to the Automatic Identification data streaming in from the Geosat, the girl was riding in a boat called The Fortune registered to Oahu Chief of Police Donald

Mlama.

The Admiral watched the blip for a long moment then turned to Senegar and said, "She was never the same after Afghanistan Jack. When they dragged her back from that little episode, she was a whole different person."

Senegar didn't look at him, just sat there staring at the screens on the wall. Finally he said, "The Beach does that to people-sucks away their souls, but in your daughters case that wasn't a bad thing, it made her stronger, wilder more resourceful-it is impossible to train people up to that level. Your daughter is a very unique woman Admiral, you should be proud."

"Proud doesn't even cover it Laddie, but I lost her-you know that-her mother as well." Senegar nodded slowly, then said, "You married your career Admiral same as me-for some men it is better that way."

The Admiral thought about this for a long time then said, "Some times very occasionally, I get to wondering."