"Tell them that."

"G'wan, jump! She won't shoot you! All talk!" the man on the stern yelled. "Hurry!"

Dar felt her heart lurch as the man on the bow prepared to leap.

She trained the barrel of the shotgun on him and swallowed hard, not sure she was either willing or able to pull the trigger.

"Dar." Kerry's voice was tense.

I have to protect her. Dar's inner voice spoke quietly. "Stay back," she called over her shoulder, and then faced forward. The*173 man tossed a rope over to the deck and climbed up onto the railing.

Dar steeled herself, and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked powerfully, jerking against her shoulder. Yells erupted. Then she pulled it again. Splinters of white erupted all over the water as both shots blew through the hull of the pirate's boat near the waterline.

She pumped the shotgun and loaded two more sh.e.l.ls into the chamber.

"Crazy b.i.t.c.h!"

"Shoot her a.s.s!"

"Look out!"

"Get the f.u.c.k back! Get back! Holy s.h.i.t!"

"Next one's gonna put chum in the water," Dar bellowed, "instead of f.u.c.king fibergla.s.s!" She swung the shotgun toward the stern, since the two men on the bow had dived into the water for cover. One of the men facing her brought his gun up and sighted down it, and their eyes met across their gun sights.

And in that moment, with her life on the line, Dar felt her fear drop away as the predator inside her woke. Her eyes narrowed and a smile etched itself across her face, and she knew way down deep that she not only could pull that trigger...she would. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

"Get the f.u.c.k outta here, man! We're f.u.c.king sinking!" One of the men from the bow had climbed over into the stern and grabbed the wheel.

"Coast Guard, Coast Guard, mayday, mayday." Kerry's voice came from behind her. "This is Dixieland Yankee, a US registered vessel being attacked just north of AVI B21."

"f.u.c.k! They're calling the Coast Guard! Get moving!" The man pointing the gun at Dar dropped his muzzle and ducked behind the cabin. "Move! Move!"

The fishing boat wallowed in the water, then its engines cut in and the bow turned away from them. They gunned the motor and the bow lifted, two holes now visible against its white curve. As they left, one of the men on the stern lifted his rifle to his shoulder and pointed it at them.

"s.h.i.t." Dar jerked back through the doorway, trying to get the door closed.

One of the man's companions knocked the muzzle up, then cuffed the man in the back of the head. The gun carrier angrily smacked his crewmate with the b.u.t.t of the rifle. They struggled, shoving each other as the boat retreated, curving widely toward the southern sh.o.r.e of the island just north of Charlie's.

"We better get out of here," Dar uttered tensely. "In case they come back." She turned to find Kerry watching her with a pale face and widened eyes. "You okay?"

Kerry set down the microphone, leaned against the cabin wall, 174*

and exhaled. "Yeah." Her voice held a rough note. "But heading back to some place where I can just..." she took a breath, "take a nap would be very cool."

Dar guided her over to the couch and sat her down, then put away the shotgun. "Curl up here, sweetheart. I'm pulling up the anchor and we'll dock over by Charlie and Bud's," she said. "Bud's a medic."

"Bet his bedside manner's a peach," Kerry muttered as she lay down on the couch. She watched Dar's face as she closed the shotgun case, seeing the tension etched across it and the restless shift of her jaw muscles. "Hey, Dar?"

"Yeah?" Dar didn't look up.

Kerry reached out to stroke Dar's leg. "That was really impressive," she said.

Dar's hands paused in their work. The dark head turned and their eyes met. Dar closed the bench seat and sat down next to Kerry, resting her forearms on her knees. "Was it?" she answered softly. "It just sounded like a bunch of pompous yelling to me."

Kerry smiled. "It worked," she said. "That was a great idea to put a hole in their boat."

Dar gazed at the floor between her bare feet. Her mind drifted back to the feeling she'd had when the gun had centered on the man on the bow. There had been no fear, no confusion in her. She'd centered the sights on his chest. Why hadn't she pulled the trigger?

What had sent the muzzle lower, to target the boat instead?

"Dar?"

Dar lifted her head and turned. "Yeah? Um...thanks." She managed a smile. "I'm not sure it was all planned, but I'm glad I ended up doing the right thing." She pushed herself to her feet.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" She ruffled Kerry's hair, then walked to the door and eased through it.

Kerry felt her brow furrow. Her instincts told her something in Dar's voice...in her manner...just wasn't right. She heard the engines start up, followed by the clank of the anchor retracting, felt the motion as the boat headed toward the island. Later, they'd have time to talk. Kerry put her head down on the arm of the couch and let her eyes drift shut. Then she'd figure it out.

Chapter.

Fifteen.

DAR WAS IN turmoil. The rain had stopped, and a weak splash of sunlight dusted her forearms where they rested on the control console of the boat. Things were just happening too fast, she decided. She was in a place where she was purely reacting instead of driving what was going on, and she wasn't used to that.

"So I react like a freaking nutcase. Nice." She stared glumly at the controls. "What the h.e.l.l was that? A gun? Shooting people?

What the h.e.l.l is going on with you, Roberts?" Shaking her head, she turned the wheel a little, arcing the boat toward the end of the island. "I think I'm losing it."

"Honey?"

Dar jumped in startlement, and then picked up the microphone.

"Right here. Everything okay?"

"Well..." Kerry's voice crackled through the intercom, "you've got the mic keyed open, and it's kind of tough for me to listen to you yelling at yourself when I'm not there to kiss you and make it better."

"Oh." Dar felt herself blushing. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just a little rattled, I guess." Her eyes lifted to the horizon and adjusted their course again. "Be glad to be in port."

"Me, too," Kerry replied.

Dar felt a pang of anxiety. "You feeling worse?" Pure instinct caused her to hit the throttles and increase their speed. On top of everything else, worry about Kerry's physical condition was gnawing at her.

"No," Kerry replied, a touch of warmth in her tone. "I just had some more tea, matter of fact. I think the fever's down,"she said. "I think I just need some processing time."

Dar relaxed a little but her body still twitched, her leg tensing and releasing in a nervous tattoo. "Yeah," she agreed. "Just take it easy, okay?"

"I will if you will," Kerry's wry retort came back.

"Mmph." Dar released a gusty sigh. "Almost there," she commented. "Might want to radio ahead to see if... c.r.a.p." As they 176*

cleared the northern point of the island and headed southwest, her gaze found a profile on the horizon. DeSalliers' boat was hunched in front of the channel leading into the island's dock, trolling in a tight circle.

"What?" Kerry answered, then after a rustling while she moved to where she could see out a porthole, she said, "Oh, fudge. What the h.e.l.l is he doing, Dar?"

Dar's face tightened in anger. She felt a wash of rage flood through her, focusing a dark energy on the boat squatting arrogantly in her path. "He's p.i.s.sing me off," she growled softly.

"And he's going to regret it."

She turned the boat directly toward the harbor and gunned the engines. Almost immediately, the radio crackled to life.

"Approaching vessel, stand off and remain clear of our position."

Dar clicked the mic. "Kiss my a.s.s. You're in my way; I suggest you get out of it," she barked into the instrument, putting some of her tension and a lot of her pent-up frustration behind the words.

She could feel her temper flaring to the flashpoint, and curiously, she had no desire to squelch it.

"Do not approach this vessel! We are conducting a search!"

"Get..." Dar let her voice deepen and intensify, "out of my way." There was a moment's silence, during which she directed the bow of the Dixie right for the center of DeSalliers' hull.

"Roberts!"

Dar grinned unpleasantly. "Not in the mood, buddy." She clicked the mic. "I'm going into that harbor."

"Listen to me," DeSalliers replied. "You can't come through here. We're in the middle of-"

"You're the one not listening," Dar told him. "I don't give a d.a.m.n what you're in the middle of. Move, or I'll go right through you."

"You're insane!"

It was, if you looked at it, pretty crazy. Dar snarled and rethought her words. "No. I've just got a sick pa.s.senger and I need a medic. You're between me and that."

There was a short period of silence and she didn't slacken her speed, though she set her hands on the throttles. She almost jerked them backwards when the intercom crackled, aware of the dire tension running through her muscles.

"Hey, sweetie."

She could hear the anxiety in Kerry's tone. "Hang tight, love. I think I'm gonna win this point,"she uttered. "Jacka.s.s."

The main radio blasted static at her. "All right, Roberts. We'll clear you a channel past us, but slow down for Christ's sake."

Dar watched the other boat carefully, and saw the bow dip slowly toward her as it moved. With a satisfied grunt, she pulled*177 the throttles back, diminishing the rumble of her diesels and slowing the boat. There wasn't much room in the channel for even DeSalliers' boat, and as she got closer she could see they were trawling a net along the length of the big vessel and blocking the path into the harbor.

What in the h.e.l.l is he doing? Dar shifted the Dixieland Yankee to the far southern part of the channel, protected by two seawalls of coral that stretched out into the sea. There would be, she realized, just barely enough room for her to squeeze by, and any shift in the waves would send her against the coral.

DeSalliers' small boat circled behind it, with a diver's flag out.

Dar could see faces turned her way, full of anger and resentment as she approached their position. She reduced speed to almost an idle, wishing she could better see what they were up to.

Two of the men pointed at her and shouted, and Dar's quick hearing detected the distinctive sound of a camera shutter closing.

Occupied with the delicate task of maneuvering the tiny path she'd been given, looking wasn't possible, but by the looks on the faces on that boat, she could guess what Kerry was up to.

Gotta love her. Dar watched her depth meter anxiously, tapping the throttles to get them past a bulge in the seawall.

The small boat cut toward them and got in her way. Dar slowed and let out a warning blast on their air horn. The men yelled and pointed at Kerry. Dar raised her middle finger to them and tapped the throttles. As the boat skimmed closer, Dar glanced behind her to where the stern of the Dixie cleared DeSalliers' boat, the bow emptying of people as Kerry's lens swept over them. "Kerry, hang on!" she yelled back, as she threw the boat hard to one side, then gunned the engines and reversed course, building a wake that smacked into the smaller boat and sent it half onto its side.

One of the men on the boat catapulted over the side and the boat swerved, its occupants screaming at her in words that the wind ripped away into incoherence. Dar wrapped her legs around the captain's chair and swept past them into the island's small, protected harbor. A flush of wild triumph washed through her, muting the anger and forcing a chuckle from her throat at her successful maneuver. They left DeSalliers behind, and she pulled slowly into the cramped dock.

He wasn't finished, however. "Roberts."

Dar eyed the radio with a smirk.

"You only think you got away with that."

Dar eased the Dixie into an open slip, not a difficult task since most of them were unoccupied. She picked up the radio. "You only think you let me," she replied. "Have a great day." With that, she dropped the mic onto the console and shut down the engines, leaped to her feet, and headed for the ladder.

178*

Kerry was standing on the stern deck, wrapped in a jacket and pale faced. She turned as Dar slid down the ladder and let the camera looped around her neck rest on her chest. "Wow," she exhaled.

Dar hopped to the railing, then onto the dock to secure their lines. "Wow wasn't the word I had in mind," she responded, as she leaped back onto the deck. "Stupid son of a b.i.t.c.h. I don't know what the h.e.l.l he thinks he's doing, or who he thinks he is, or what the h.e.l.l he's looking for, but..."

A loud clank made them both jump. They froze for an instant, then moved to the other side of the boat and looked down.

"Me," a bedraggled, ragged figure was hanging on to one of their buoy lines, "is what he's looking for."

Kerry gripped the railing and blinked. "Bob?" she uttered.

Dar gaped at him. "Son of a..."

Bob tugged off his mask and coughed, his face pale and strained. "Fifty psi left." He looked completely drained. "He almost got me."

Dar and Kerry looked at each other. Kerry rubbed her eyes, very obviously at a complete loss. She gave Dar a plaintive, sheepish look and lifted both hands in appeal.

Dar scratched the back of her head and then shook it, having nothing really to add to the emotion. Subst.i.tuting action for reaction, she leaned over the railing and extended a hand. "Gimme your gear," she directed. "Come 'round to the back. There's a ladder."

Bob gave her a wry look. "Thanks." He unbuckled his BC and tank, and lifted them high enough for Dar to grab. "I know I'm not what you wanted to find hanging off your lines." His eyes shifted to Kerry, then dropped.