Storm Surge (7 page)

“Be quiet
now,” Sharon whispered fiercely.

“Hey,” Max
said, “
you
ready to go?”

“Sure.” Sharon
picked up her bag. Max nodded and stepped up on the wall. He jumped off and
started up the slope towards the road that led to the marina. Glory pointed at
his ass and gave Sharon an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, as if to say
Nice,
huh
?

Stop it
, Sharon mouthed back, then giggled
softly. This was the girl Sharon hadn’t seen in a long time, goofy and
irreverent. Lately that girl had been buried beneath layers of resentment and
attitude. For a brief moment, Sharon felt more relaxed than she had for a long
time. She gave Max a second glance as they walked, then looked back at Glory and
nodded. This time it was Glory’s turn to chuckle.

They made the
boat just as the second whistle blew. The wind was picking up, blowing a fine
spray across the decks, so they went into the large passenger compartment on
the main deck. The compartment was spacious and well-appointed, with mahogany
paneling up to the large glass windows that circled the compartment and gave a
good view of the water.

An aisle ran
down the middle, with long bench-like seats to either side, next to the
windows. Almost
every one
was taken by people
carrying large suitcases or
duffles
. A few of the
residents eyed them distastefully as they searched for seats. Finally, one
older man shifted a large expensive looking suitcase off the bench next to him,
looking grumpy as he did it.

“Thanks,”
Sharon said. The man looked away. Sharon and Glory wedged themselves
uncomfortably into the narrow space. Max stood in the aisle, his hand braced on
the back of the bench against the boat’s slight rocking.

“We’ve got to
come back and pick up checks tomorrow,” Max said. ”You need a ride then, too?”

“I couldn’t
impose,” Sharon said. “I can call a friend.”

“You’re not
imposing,” Max said. “I’ve got to come out here too.”

“God, that
Coyne is such a bastard.”

“Tell me about
it.”

“Yeah,” she
said. “I guess I could use a ride.”

“8:30 okay?
Only one ferry running, and that’s at 9:00.”

She nodded.

“You going to
be able to get your car back?” he said.

“I hope.
What’s wrong, baby?”

Glory was
rummaging frantically through her beach bag. She looked up with a stricken look
on her face. “I can’t find my iPod,” she said.

“Oh,
no.
Did you leave
it on the beach?”

“No,” she
said. “I mean…” her face went blank. “Yeah.
Maybe.
At one of the cabanas.”

Sharon felt
uneasy. The mask was back over Glory’s eyes. There was something the girl
wasn’t telling her.

“Well, you can
come back with me tomorrow,” she said. “And see if anyone’s turned it in at
Lost and Found.”

Glory nodded
miserably. Sharon felt like reminding her that she needed to be more careful
with expensive gifts; the iPod had been a real stretch as a Christmas gift on
Sharon’s salary. But she really didn’t want to have another scene with her
daughter in front of all these people. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said, “you’ll
get it back.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“These kids
today,” Barstow said. He had the pink iPod in one hand, with the headphone
wires dangling from his ears. With the phones in he apparently didn’t realize
how loudly he was speaking. Worth reached over and pulled one of the buds out
of his ear.

“Quiet,” he
said. Barstow looked ready to make an issue of it, then realized what he had
been doing and nodded sheepishly.

“Man,” he said
in a lowered voice. “This thing is full of absolute crap.”

“So you’ve got
different taste in music than a teenaged girl,” Phillips said from where he was
seated on the floor across the room. “Imagine that.”

They had taken
some of the plywood from the building site and nailed it up onto the bare
studs, creating an enclosed space inside. The room was apparently intended to
be a living or dining area and was roomy enough to hold them all as well as the
heavy crates they had offloaded from the truck.

Storch
and Moon had taken the truck back to
the mainland, leaving the four men--Blake, Worth, Phillips and Barstow—and
Montrose to wait. Phillips was seated on the floor, near the brick fireplace,
reading a book. On the cover was a picture of a blonde woman in high heeled
boots and leather, holding up a gun. Blake and Montrose were hunched over a
laptop computer set on top of one of the crates.

“Where’d you
get this?” Montrose said. “I’d heard they were working on something like this,
but…damn.”

“Like I said,”
Blake answered, “friends in high places.”

“No shit. This
is military grade software.”

“You think you
can figure it out?”

Montrose
smiled for the first time. “Not a problem.”

Blake just
nodded. “Okay. Let’s run over the plan again. Barstow.”

Barstow shut
off the iPod. “When the last boat leaves, Worth and I hike down to the junction
where the power and phone cables from the mainland come in. We make sure the
power and phone lines are cut.”

Worth spoke
up. “I hope you’re right that those power lines won’t be live.”

“That’s what
our friend in the front office tells me,” Blake said. “The power company cuts
the juice as soon as the last boat clears the dock. We’ll be monitoring
communications to make sure.”

Phillips put
down his book and spoke up. “I egress to the lighthouse and provide
overwatch
. Anyone approaches the island, I notify Blake as
mission commander.”

Blake nodded.
“I make the call on whether to abort or to have Phillips neutralize the
intrusion. Montrose and I move the gear to the Senator’s house and begin work
on the safe.”

“What do we
use for power?” Montrose asked.

“The house has
a generator,” Blake said.
“A big one.”
He grinned.
“Man that important can’t let his beer get warm if the power goes out.”

“It better be
a big one. If this little toy of yours doesn’t work, I’m going to need to use
the plasma cutter.”

“It’ll work,”
Blake said.
“Worth.
What happens after you and Barstow
do your thing with the cable?”

“I fall back
to the
house,
Barstow joins Phillips at the lighthouse
and keeps an eye on the weather.”

“Ah yes,”
Phillips said.
“The weather.
You’ve heard the latest I
assume? We’re looking at a bloody Category Five hurricane?
Wrath
of fucking God and all that?
And please don’t say, ‘not a problem’
again, because it fucking well is.”

“How about if
I just say ‘don’t worry’? Look, that lighthouse has been here over a hundred
years. It’s been through worse storms than this. By the time it gets really
bad, we’ll have what we came for and all be snug and dry.” He grinned. “All we
need’s a deck of cards to keep us entertained until the pickup.”

“Which reminds
me,” Worth said. “What exactly is in this damn safe that’s so important?”

Blake’s smile
vanished. “Need to know basis,
Worth
.”

Worth’s gaze
didn’t waver. “If I’m going to be risking my life for it, I think I need to
know.”

“You’re not
risking your life for what’s in that safe,
Worth
,”
Barstow said. “You’re risking it for the money. A payday like this one, I can
do without knowing what the package is.”

“Some people’s
money I can do without.”

“Christ, not
this again,” Blake said. “I already told you, it’s no one working against
American interests. I can tell you this much. Our employer’s always been a
friend to people like us. And besides,” he went on, “the risk is minimal. Sure,
it’ll be hairy for a while. But that lighthouse is solid. It’ll keep us safe.”

Worth muttered
something under his breath.

“What was
that?” Blake snapped. “I didn’t hear it.”

Worth looked
up. “I
said,
famous last words.”

Phillips
grunted and picked up his book again.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They were
crammed awkwardly together in the front seat of Max’s small truck. “Sorry,”
he’d said, “I don’t usually have company.”

“So,” Sharon
said as they drove away from the ferry parking lot, “where are you from, Max?”

He hesitated.
“Chicago.”

“Really?”
Sharon said, wondering a bit at his
reluctance. “Wow. You’re a long way from home.”

“Yeah.”
There was obvious tension in his
voice. She tried to keep the mood light. “So, what brings you all the way down
south?”

“I didn’t like
the weather,” he said. Glory, wedged in the seat between them, turned and
raised an eyebrow at her. Sharon shrugged. The rest of the ride was short, but
the silence made it seem interminable. Finally, they pulled up in the drive of
the small trailer Sharon rented in the coastal scrubland a few miles from the
beach. “Well, here it is,” she said with a brittle cheerfulness.
“Home sweet home.”

Max just
nodded and put the truck in Park. Sharon took a deep breath. “Ah, Max?” she
said. She hated what she was about to do. She hated the thought of being so
dependent, especially on this near-stranger.

“Yeah?” he
seemed a lot less tense.

“I kind of
need a ride somewhere tonight.
Me and Glory.”

Max took out a
cigarette, popped the truck’s lighter in. “Where?”

“Glory’s
school orientation.
It won’t be long. But we have to be there.”

Something
about that seemed to amuse Max. Sharon felt a flash of anger. If he was
laughing at her… she bit it back. She couldn’t afford it now.

“When?” was
all Max
said.

Sharon looked
at her watch. It was later than she’d thought.
“
Ahh
…as soon as I can get changed.”

The lighter
popped out. Max took it and lit the cigarette. He took a drag as he thought it
over.

“Sure,” he
said. “You want me to wait for you here?”

“What, in the
truck?” Sharon said. “No.
Of course not.
Come on in.”
Glory looked at her quizzically. Sharon gave back a little, almost
imperceptible shrug. In truth, she had her doubts about inviting this odd
stranger in, but leaving him cooling his heels in the truck seemed unimaginably
rude.

He paused, as
if trying to process the fact that he was being invited in. “Okay,” he said at
last. He followed them inside.

Max looked
around the living room. “Nice place,” he said. She examined his tone carefully
for irony or sarcasm and to her surprise, found neither.

“Thanks,” she
said. “It’s not much, but
it’s
home. You want
something to drink?
Tea, soda?”

“
Water’ll
be fine,” he said.

She got him a
glass from the tap, with ice. When she got back he was on the couch, sitting on
the edge of the cushion. “Okay,” she said awkwardly. “We’ll just be a minute.”

When she came
out after changing, he was still there, perched on the edge of the couch. He
looked up at her. “You look nice,” he said. He looked so unsure of himself that
she almost laughed.
Maybe he’s not weird
,
she thought,
maybe he’s just shy
.

“Thanks,” she
said.

Glory came out
of her tiny bedroom. She’d dressed in tight low-rise jeans and a midriff-baring
top. “Glory Angel Brennan,” Sharon said in exasperation. “
you
are
not
wearing that to your orientation!”

“Mom!”
Sharon said.

“Don’t ‘mom’
me! Get in there and…” but Glory had already slammed the door behind her. She
turned to Max. “Kids,” she said. “You know how…” she stopped. A weird blank
look had come over his face.

“No,” he said
softly. “I don’t reckon I do.” Even his accent had changed. Before, he’d
sounded generically Midwestern. This was a voice straight out of the Tennessee
hills. The voice, and the blankness of his eyes, sent a chill down her spine.
Then something changed and she was looking at Max’s by now familiar amiable
expression. He smiled. “Actually,” he said, “Well.
Yeah.”

Sharon didn’t
have time to process the strangeness of it all. Glory stomped out of her room,
looking sulky. She was dressed in a white blouse that was buttoned
ostentatiously up to the neck.

“Better?” she
said, nearly sneering.