The Gift of the Dragon (24 page)

“I
know
about my shower and teeth, Mom, you don’t have to remind me!” Anna said with a sour look and then bounded up the stairs. Seconds later, she came pounding back down and jumped into Jacob’s lap. “Good night, Uncle Jacob! I’m so glad you came!”
 

Jacob laughed and tousled her hair. “Well, I’m glad you are glad, and I’m extra happy you have become such a great lobster catcher! Those were delicious.”

Anna giggled. “I am most accomplished at the art of catching lobsters,” she announced. Then Anna leaned over and wrapped her arms around Alice. At first taken aback by the girl’s forwardness, Alice relaxed and then let herself feel the simple joy of a child’s unselfconscious embrace. Suddenly a scene of Sara hugging her rushed into her mind. Somehow Alice seemed the same age as now, while Sara appeared to be a bold, loving child about the same age as Anna.
It must be a something from a dream,
Alice thought. Shaking her head to clear the vision, she followed Jacob’s example and also ruffled Anna’s short dark hair.
 

“Thank you for the wonderful swim and showing me how to get lobsters, Anna.”

Anna looked at her shrewdly. “Well, I
showed
you, but you were too scared to
touch
them!”
 

Alice laughed. Anna’s way of getting lobsters involved reaching into the dark holes and dragging them out. Alice worried too much about barracuda and other toothy surprises to stick her hand in the places Anna pointed out to her. “Yes, I’m a wimp, you are right. Well, maybe tomorrow I’ll try harder, okay?”

“You are
on
!” Anna laughed and then, gathering her book from the side table, raced upstairs.

 
“It’s good to see Anna so lively again,” Jacob said.
 

“Yes, she’s really recovering. I just hope the cancer stays in remission.” Nanette looked at Jacob. “So now that we have some idea what this necklace might be, what are your plans? Are you going to bring this in to the FBI?”

Jacob looked at Alice. “Things are different there. I’m not sure who I could trust. Stoddard has remade the Bureau in his own image, and I’m not really sure he thinks he works for the President anymore. Or he thinks Halliday will be President soon enough for him to stop working for the current one a bit early.”
 

Alice spoke up then. “It’s
my
necklace, and it’s my only key to Sara’s killer! I’m not giving it up until I have found out who killed her and why!”

Jacob spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Nanette, my plan is simply to help Alice find out what the necklace is and then return her to Miami safely so she can continue her mission. That’s
all
you want from me, right, Alice?”

Feeling unsure
that
was true, but being very nervous about the talk of turning the necklace in to someone from the government, she nodded. She could not remember a reason why, but she knew that she had a very bad feeling when she thought about that course of action. Suddenly she yawned, putting her hand to her mouth and trying to hide it, hoping Nanette did not think her rude.

“Well, it has been a long day for you two, even with your naps. How about we have a couple more of those Land Shark lagers, and then I will put you kids to bed,” Nanette said, looking sympathetically at Alice.

“Now that’s a great plan, Sis.” Jacob said enthusiastically, getting up and going to the fridge.

Several hours later, Alice walked alone down to the dock in the light of the three-quarter moon. After she, Jacob, and Nanette had drunk several more beers, they had all gone to bed. Alice had woken up after a few hours of sleep, restless, needing to move around. She had gone outside in the warm night air and down the path toward the ocean. She still didn’t feel completely herself after Guzman’s drug. After listening to her describe the symptoms, Nanette had agreed with Jacob that the drink Guzman gave her must have been laced with scopolamine. Nanette had told her that this was a drug often used in muggings and other crimes in South America, where people made it from the flowers of a common tree, called the borrachero, meaning “get-you-drunk.”

She walked to the end of the dock and sat on the bench next to Jacob’s boat, bobbing in the gentle swell of the Gulf of Mexico. The moon shimmered over the waves, casting a faint glow on the water. It shone so brightly the railings cast shadows on the dock.
 

She leaned back on the bench and watched the moonlight on the water. The light on the waves looked like a pathway. If only she could get up and walk it back to the land she once knew, the place where her memories had gone. The mountains of Oregon were silent tonight, and the sea sighed softly like whispered nonsense. Alice sighed.
Maybe there is no answer.
Jacob said she might remember. Jenny said that too. In the colorless light of the moon, she accepted that she might not remember more than flashes of scenes, like seeing a flickering candle through some dark glass jar. Despite that, she
would
find out who killed Sara and why. She would find out the purpose of the necklace. Maybe finding these things would help her remember herself. Maybe they wouldn’t. They were what she owned now, and they were what she needed. She lay back on the bench, losing herself in the bubbling and gurgling song from below, melting into a dream.

Michel

They ate, and then they sat under the empty building, quietly playing cards, cleaning weapons, and checking gear. Michel wanted to wait until midnight before moving on the house where Sangerman hid. “The Sangerman girl may look like a chubby little Becky, but I’m going to be careful. Also, her friend must have some training, and we don’t know for sure it’s just the spook mama and her twinkie in the house.”

“So now we hurry up and wait,” said Almaribe.

Annoyed, Michel asked, “Think you can hack it, Martin boy?”

“Sure.” Almaribe leaned back on his pack, pretending to sleep. “Good night, Dad.”

Marsdale worried aloud that their targets might leave.
 

Michel said, “My gut says they are settled for the night. Besides, if they leave by car, we’ll see them go by here, and if they leave by that boat, well those are old OptiMax motors on the catamaran. Decent engines but very loud. We’ll hear them start up, and then it’ll be easy. Just go sink them and call it a night.”

“What if they leave by boat while we are hiking up to the house by land?”
 

Michel glared at Marsdale but then thought about it.

“Sanchez, take the SeaCraft and make sure they can’t get their boat started if they try to run that way. Do it quietly, though, use the trolling motor.”

“
Shee-it
, man, that’ll take an hour!”

“Right, well, if you hear them start their motors, then you fire up and go stop them. Otherwise stick with the electric motor. It’s very quiet.”

Sanchez held up his Peacemaker. “I don’t want to use this when I’m near the water.”

Michel groaned. “Shit, Sanchez, you can use your fucking knife, okay? Just be quiet.”

Sanchez grinned. “Sure, boss. My Night Raider is very quiet.” If Sanchez loved anything in this world, he loved that long, black knife.
 

“We don’t have the road covered, though, if they leave by car,” said Marsdale.
 

Michel wrinkled his forehead.
 

“Right. Pigpen, take that RPG and go sit up by the road. If you hear a car coming, take it out.”
 

Siegert said, “Yes, sir,” gathering the long metal tube of the Airtronic rocket-propelled grenade; he walked up the driveway to his new post.

The rest of the team quietly joked or napped until quarter to midnight, when Thorn gave a low whistle.
 

“Time to go, babes. Let’s get this party started.”

The men grunted, groaned, and gathered up their gear. Thorn estimated it would take about ten minutes to carefully work their way along the tree line to the target house.

Marsdale and Almaribe led the way up the driveway toward the point where they would split off and head north. With the bright moon and the cloudless sky, the men left their heavy night-vision goggles in the packs on their backs. Soon, they arrived at the part of the road where it emerged from the thick pine and palmetto forest and into a sandy plain with clumps of grass and smaller, spiky bushes that cast long, sharp shadows.
 

Thorn held up his hand for a stop and then told Almaribe,
 

“Go and bring Siegert back down here.”

Marsdale added, “Tell him not to forget the RPG.”

“All right, I’m off. Hey, at least you’re not asking me to work for a living!”

He trotted off up the drive toward the road.
 

Thorn looked at Marsdale. “Fucking Almaribe. What was he talking about?”

“Line from a show he likes. He’s trying to be funny.”
Trying is the right word for it,
Thorn thought.
Well, I can play that game too!

“Yeah, well, I need less trying and more doing from him.” Thorn looked expectantly at Marsdale, who stared back gamely.

Finally, Thorn broke the stare, looked down, and spat. “That was a line from a show too.”
Not a Star Wars fan, mate?

Marsdale said nothing as Almaribe and Siegert trotted back into view.
 

As they came from the darkness of the roadway into the moonlight, Almaribe smirked at Siegert.
 

“Do you think we’re on a mission from God, Piggy?” Almaribe pointed at the old-fashioned sunglasses perched atop Siegert’s head. Looking surprised, Siegert touched them. “Huh?”

“Jesus wept, Pigpen’s never seen
The Blues Brothers
!”

“Ah, the glasses are for if someone turns on the light when we are in the house.”

“How will they do that? We’ll cut the power before we go in, right, Thorn?”
 

“Nah, we’ll cut the phone, but no reason to cut the power. If we find the breaker, maybe, but don’t anyone cut the power line. Too likely to make noise. If they have fire alarms or surge protectors, it could make them beep. Anyway, we may want the power on later. Siegert’s smarter than you on this one, Martin. Good idea, Johan.”
 

“Any alarms?”

“Citizens with visitors often turn their alarms off. Guests are too likely to set them off.” Seeing Siegert’s worried look, Thorn went on, “Please don’t cry, Johan. Marsdale will go in first to check and shut it down if it’s on. He got special training in that, right, Alan?”

Marsdale patted a small bag strapped to his belt. “I even have my equipment.”

Time to move.
Standing up, Thorn said, “Form up.” Then he pointed north up the tree line. “Stay close to the trees, in the shadows. My guess is that our three little bears and Goldilocks are sound asleep by now. I don’t want to take chances, though, so play this by the book.”

“In the book, the bears are away, and only Goldilocks is home.” Said Almaribe.
 

“Well, in this book, Goldilocks is the one to be worried about, so let’s hope she is sleeping soundly,” Marsdale said.
 

“And I hope she sleeps soundly right up to the moment when I stick my fork in her porridge and call her just right!” Almaribe laughed.

“In der Nacht der Deve gank,” Siegert said.
 

Almaribe raised his dark eyebrows high at that.

“What does that mean, Piggy?”

Marsdale cut in. “Sort of a Spezialkräfte prayer, right, Johan?”
 

Siegert nodded. “I used to say it before night missions. I… it is from an old poem.”

“JeSUS, let's cancel this party and hit the library!” Thorn said. “If you ladies are done with your book club meeting, let’s get on with the murder and mayhem we’ve planned!”

Thorn had been running strike teams long enough to know that some humor before a dangerous mission helped the men settle into the job at hand. Often the waste of time pissed him off, but tonight the more they waited, the deeper their targets would be asleep. The men grinned together, Siegert slapped Almaribe’s back, and Marsdale smiled and winked at Thorn, giving him a thumbs-up.
 

Thorn rolled his eyes and then, making a chopping motion with his arm, walked carefully north, staying in the shadows. Marsdale fell in behind him, then Almaribe, then Siegert. Thorn, Almaribe, and Marsdale carried their silenced pistols in their hands. Siegert walked with the RPG slung over his shoulder.

In the plane, Thorn had talked of pythons and poisonous snakes as though the Keys were crawling with them, making it risky to let your feet touch the ground. Marsdale had pointed out that also on Sugarloaf lived one of the last wild herds of the small, half-tame Key Deer. The air sang with the songs of insects, yet they didn’t see any wildlife that night, and they quickly made it to the next driveway. As they turned down it, Almaribe looked around and said, “This is what they mean by a killing moon.”
 

Marsdale said, “Yeah. Good luck, Martin.”

“There is no luck, mate. Just fate.”

Alice

Alice dreamed that she was sitting back on the yurt’s porch in Oregon, talking to Jenny. Jenny said something she could barely hear, something about the people who were after her, how they would never rest until they found her, how they had access to technology that would let them locate her even when she thought she had hidden well…

The cool forest of Willamette Springs dissolved into the hot Florida night as Alice awoke with a start, her body shaking with panic. What had she been doing? Drinking and laughing as if all her problems were solved by Guzman’s death!

She sat up immediately, feeling some wrong thing about to happen. Over the soft lapping of the calm Gulf water she heard a low, electric whine, coming closer. She slid off the bench and crouched down behind the wooden dock box inside which extra life jackets and dock lines were kept. The whine stopped, and she heard something splash in the water. She tried to calm her rushing breath as she heard more splashes, coming closer. The splashing stopped, and something bumped on the dock. Her hands scrabbled for some kind of weapon. She found a short length of line, hanging partly out of the box. She slowly pulled it out. It turned out to be about three feet of braided nylon.
I can use this.