Sasha nodded. “Please.” She took Sawyer’s hand again, gripped Annika’s. “Promise.”
“You got it. We’re out here.”
But when the others went in, he stared at the mouth.
“Promise me.”
“What?”
“Promise me,” Annika repeated. “You won’t go in. You won’t use the compass, and come back to go in and see.”
Since he’d toyed with just that, he hesitated.
“You promise me. I promise you. Because we believe in Sasha.”
Damn it. “You’re right. Okay. I promise, I won’t go in—unless there’s no choice. Unless one of us is in trouble inside. Good enough?”
“Yes. I promise the same.”
She took his face, kissed him. “Now it’s an oath, and can’t be broken.”
He thought of Doyle’s words—wrapped up like a trout—but didn’t see where he had much choice.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The cave, they reported as they took time to rest, eat, drink before starting the hike back, was simply a cave.
Wide and deep and dry.
Sasha sketched it, added the dimensions Doyle estimated, as well as the narrow tunnel that forked off into a second chamber, wider, deeper than the entrance.
Using the sketch, Doyle marked the best places to lay their traps.
“Not too close to the entrance.” Bran, too, studied the sketch. “We’d want as many of them inside as possible when, and if, I set them off.”
“Why the hell would they use a cave way the hell up here?” Riley wondered. “He’s after a villa—and that suits Malmon. A cave, that suits Nerezza.”
“It’s not hers,” Sasha insisted.
“Whatever reason, he has something planned, or why see danger inside for two of us?” With a nod, Bran approved Doyle’s marked positions. “I can work with this. What I’ve made can cure in the cave as easily as it can in the workshop. What do you say, Sawyer? You and I take a quick trip down, gather what’s needed, bring it back again?”
“Sure.” Instinctively Sawyer reached for his compass, then angled his head. “You can get us down there, right? Like you took Sasha to the promontory in Corfu.”
“Here to there? I can, yes. Easy as a Sunday drive.”
“I’ve never traveled your way.”
“Well then, I’ll give you a ride.” Bran rose, reached down. The men gripped forearms. “We’ll be back shortly.”
And they winked away.
“I miss driving,” Riley commented.
Doyle polished off a sandwich. “Tell me about it.” He shoved to his feet, wandered off, then stood staring out at the sweeping view of blue water, white rock, and the green with the tumble of houses below.
“Looking for possible snipers’ nests,” Riley concluded. “Even though he knows this is too far up. They may HQ here, but they’ll come down a ways, the snipers. When we get back, I’ll see if I can find out if Malmon’s bagged a villa. And he’s going to want a boat. He has his own, so maybe he’ll just bring that, or have it brought. The Escapade—his yacht. As if what he does is charming.”
“I hope we search for the star tomorrow. I like the scent of the land here.” To prove it, Annika drew in a long breath. “And the way the sun strikes the water, the land. But if we find the star before he comes, we could be gone.”