“Lance,” Stone said, “why are you here? I mean, raiding foreign yachts and capturing their passengers is not part of your job description, is it?”
“My job description is whatever I want it to be, and once in a while, I like to get out into the weeds with operational people. It’s more fun than sitting behind a desk.”
Lance’s radio crackled. “Scramble,” he said.
“Scrambled,” came the reply.
“What is your status?” Lance asked.
“Plan Zero executed and complete. We’re returning to mother ship.”
“Casualties?”
“One wounded in our party, non-life-threatening. Two wounded, one female fatality among the detainees.”
“Which female?” Lance asked.
“Number one,” he replied. “It couldn’t be helped. She was given every opportunity, but she shot our guy.”
“Secure,” Lance said. “Over and out.” He dropped the radio into the canvas bag with the other gear.
“Who is female one?” Stone asked.
“I could lie to you but I’d rather not. It’s Betty Baker.”
Stone sighed, making a moaning noise. “Oh, God,” he said.
* * *
—
The two of them had finished breakfast when Dino and Viv appeared on deck, hungry.
“You two been up all night?” Dino asked.
“Most of it,” Stone said.
“Is Vanessa up?” Lance asked.
“I could hear her moving about when we came up,” Viv replied.
“Stone,” Lance said. “You’d better go and speak to her.”
Stone turned and looked at him askance.
“She’s yours,” Lance said, “and your work to do. Don’t lie to her, but tell her as little as possible.”
* * *
—
Stone felt as if he had been struck in the chest with a heavy object, but he got unsteadily to his feet and headed for the stairs, feeling sick.
END
Mount Desert Island, Maine
July 12, 2019