She dipped her bright head. “I’ll wait right here.”
Donovan wished he could believe her softly issued promise. Back at the beach house, he’d reluctantly believed her intention to follow him to the airfield. Where, he’d known, she’d try to convince him to take her along. Even if he’d managed to resist that appeal, she probably would have just gotten a boat to take her to Tern Island. At least this way he knew where she was.
Wearing a pair of night vision goggles he’d bought on Oahu, he located the shack at the northernmost end of the island. It was precisely where his informant had told him it would be. From what he could tell from his vantage point in the bushes, there were no guards posted outside. So far, so good.
Making a motion with his arm, he instructed the pilot, who had accompanied him, to go around the back of the house and wait for his prearranged signal. Without a word, the man drifted into the shadows.
Donovan glanced down at the illuminated dial of his watch. There was still time before he would make his move. He was just congratulating himself when he heard a bush rustle. A moment later, Lani slipped up beside him.
“Dammit,” he hissed furiously. “What the hell ever happened to keeping a promise?”
“I had my fingers crossed. Is Ford in there?”
“Yes. Now get back to the damned plane.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she whispered firmly. “I’m sorry, Donovan, but I’ve given this a great deal of thought and came to the conclusion that I couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening to you.”
Another quick glance at his watch showed that he was out of time. Swearing softly, he reached for the Glock. “Since I don’t have time to argue with you, you can stay.” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Not another word. Don’t move from this spot.”
Her eyes gleaming with excitement, Lani nodded. A moment later, he half-turned and signaled her once again to remain where she was. Then he disappeared into the thick, tropical foliage. The only sounds were the lonely rustle of the night wind, the soft sigh of the surf, and Lani’s heart as it pounded in her ears.
* * *
The pilot, a retired Navy SEAL now working for a private executive security company that Nick, the moonlighting cop/bartender/brewer, had hooked him up with, was as good as advertised.
As he and Donovan burst into the cabin, there was no conversation. No threats, confessions, any of that stuff that tended to fill up the last twenty minutes of a movie where the bad guys shared all that they’d been up to, and ended up getting either arrested, or, shot by the good guys, who walked away, either with the girl or each other, if it was a buddy flick.
The thugs who’d been pounding their fists into Ford Britton’s face spun around, guns drawn. And wouldn’t you know it, they held the guns sideways, like gangsters always did in the movies, and, as Donovan had learned on a couple of earlier occasions in his vice days, in real life. Which might allow for a quick draw and look real cool, especially up on a big screen, but was a piss-poor way to get an accurate aim.
Fortunately, because he and the SEAL had been taught the double-handed, thumb forward hold (because, dude, it helps to point in the direction you actually want the bullet to go), the rapid-fire exchange ended up good guys two, bad guys, zero. And the dumb guy tied to the chair screaming like a girl as he pissed his pants.
“I suppose you should untie him,” the SEAL/pilot drawled.
“Why me?” Donovan asked, wondering how many times FBI guys ever actually used those guns he saw in the weapons vault. He was used to talking things out. He’d been trained to do exactly that. But there was a reason he spent all that time at the range. Because sometimes either the bad guys had nothing to lose or were idiots. From what he knew about the way Capelli handled family business, he suspected, for these two, it had been six of one and one-half dozen of another. Because the odds were that they’d be dead either way.
“Because it’s your mission. I’m technically not here.”
“Talk about a cop-out.” Donovan had stuck the Glock back into his jeans when Lani suddenly showed up. And, dammit all to hell, she was not alone.
23
When the explosive sound of a gunshot shattered the night, Lani instinctively crouched down and wrapped her arms around herself. Another shot rang out, fading into the darkness as the night fell silent once again. The ominous quiet was unnerving.
With the gunshots still ringing in her ears, she made her way stealthily toward the shack, following Donovan’s example by keeping hidden in the shadows as best she could.
She’d almost reached the open door when an arm reached out from behind a tree and grabbed her around the neck.