Chapter Twenty-Seven
The island below them was an emerald jewel in an azure ocean, edged in black rock and golden crescents of sand. If it hadn't been for the spider-cracked windshield and the weight of the pistol in her hand, Amber might have believed that she was on the kind of tourist heli-tour she had imagined taking when she had first envisioned her tropical trip; they even got a gorgeous eyeful of a tall waterfall that cascaded into the ocean below.
She just hadn't imagined taking the tour nude, and the helicopter straps were not particularly comfortable without the additional padding of clothing.
Tony certainly looked comfortable enough, his muscles gleaming in the sunlight as he handled the controls with movie-style ease. Amber grinned. As much as he had protested being a super spy, he certainly played the role well.
Even Shifting Sands looked idyllic and perfect as they circled it. It was hard to remember that they were still in danger, everything seemed so peaceful. There were a few guests sunbathing in the late afternoon sun by the pool and on the beach, and if anyone had noticed that the staff was conspicuously missing, it hadn't raised any alarm. A few people glanced up at the helicopter, but more seemed not to notice it.
Tony came to a gentle landing at the front entrance. Amber noticed that he did not turn off the blades as he poked Jimmy out of the cockpit and followed him, taking the gun from Amber. If they failed to disarm the bombs, the two of them could escape, but Amber couldn't help but think of the guests–there weren't more than a few dozen of them, but they couldn't possibly all fit in the helicopter.
“Where are they?” Tony grilled Jimmy as they scurried, bent over, away from the noisy machine.
Jimmy, limp with defeat and clearly aware of the gun that Tony was holding, pointed. “They're at five of the tanks. They aren't large enough to destroy the entire resort, but the resulting fire probably would have been enough.”
He showed them to the first, and Amber cheerfully took the gun back and stayed outside the mechanical room while Tony cautiously inspected the first device near Scarlet's office, comparing what he knew to Jimmy's cowed explanation.
Amber was not all surprised that Tony was able to disarm the thing; she was beginning to think there was nothing he could not do.
“It's a very straightforward model,” Tony said with a shrug, when she commented to that effect. “Bombs are not usually as complicated–or as dangerous–as they make them out to be in the movies.”
Jimmy made a noise of disgust, quickly muffled when he caught Tony's dirty sideways look. And despite what he said about the danger, Amber noticed that Tony moved very carefully with the components he removed, and was not eager to have Amber close while he did his work.
The next three were just the same, Tony having Amber stay back with Jimmy discreetly at gunpoint while he went in to do whatever arcane things with wires and explosives that he was doing. The sun was just beginning to sink towards the horizon, and Amber had to wonder how close to sunset the timers had actually been set; sunset itself was shockingly short this far into the tropics.
At the pool, they nodded to other guests who were packing up in preparation of a dinner that wasn't going to be ready. They were careful to keep the gun hidden, and Jimmy was behaving very meekly. Their odd company, and Jimmy's roughed-up face, got a few curious looks, but no one moved to stop them.
“It's not like I was hurting anyone,” Jimmy whined, as Tony ducked into the last mechanical room, leaving Amber with a quick kiss and transferring the pistol to her.
“You knew what Beehag was doing,” Amber reminded him. “And you were bringing him shifters that you knew he would be interested in.”
“I didn't have a choice,” Jimmy protested. “I had debts with the mob, and Beehag made me work for him to cover them ...” He must have realized that Amber lacked any sympathy for his so-called plight, and subsided to sulky silence.
“That's the last of them,” Tony said with relief, coming out of the mechanical room with the device in his hands. “If they make a movie out of this someday, I hope they use really jazzy music and up the countdown to something exciting, because this lacked drama.”
Amber's attention was on Tony, not on Jimmy, nor the pistol she was holding, and she was caught utterly by surprise when he sprang at her, wrenched the gun from her hand, and turned it on her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tony didn't want to admit to Amber exactly how dangerous what they were doing was. He downplayed the risk, but was keenly aware that the mechanical room door would not keep his mate from injury if he failed to perform his job. Fortunately, he wasn't lying about the simplicity of the task; these were very basic bombs, with a chunk of explosive, embedded detonators, and a timer. There were no deadman switches or boobytraps, and the wires could simply be clipped so the detonators could be safely removed.
Elementary.
He just had to think fixedly about the fact that he couldn't fumble the explosive, or cause too much of a static shock, and he grounded himself conscientiously, both mentally and electrically.
The last one was closer to the end of the countdown than he wanted to admit, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the wires clipped and he carefully wiggled the detonators out of the explosive material.
“That's the last of them,” he said as casually as he could, coming out of the mechanical room. They were in a little alcove away from the pool, but he could hear people chatting distantly out there, as if he didn't have enough C4 in his hands to send parts of the wall and chunks of tile raining down on them. “If they make a movie out of this someday, I hope they use really jazzy music and up the countdown to something exciting, because this lacked drama.”
He was just wondering if he was acting too casual, remembering Amber mocking his acting ability when they first met, when Jimmy turned on Amber and pulled the gun from her hand, using Tony as distraction.
Tony had witnessed many acts of desperate stupidity over his years as an agent, but none ranked with watching Jimmy take the pistol from Amber and try to take her hostage.
He was moving before Jimmy had even positioned the gun to her head. It took all the common sense left in him not to fling the only thing he had at hand at the scene, but considering that it would have been a chunk of C4, Tony was glad that he retained enough control to instead place it gently on the ground before he sprang for Jimmy and smashed him across the face with a fist, grabbing the gun and wrenching it away.
Jimmy crumbled before his onslaught, and Amber spun away from the action sensibly.
“How did you know I wouldn't shoot her?” Jimmy whined, putting up hands in surrender.