“Pardon?”
“We’re going to have company at the helicopter pad, and I doubt they’ll be happy to see us. Something big and loud and scary might change their minds.”
Sam knelt down, retrieved Rivera’s gun—another H&K semiautomatic—and handed it to Remi. She examined it for a few moments, then deftly ejected the magazine, checked the ammunition, slid the magazine back into place, flipped on the safety, and shoved the H&K into her waistband.
Sam stared at her.
She said, “Home and Garden Television.”
“Okay, then. We’ll meet back here in two minutes.”
Remi headed up the ladder, and Sam went belowdecks. He ransacked each of the six sleeping quarters and found only one weapon, a .357 Magnum revolver. He went back up the ladder. Remi was waiting.
“How’d you do?” he asked.
“I ripped both handsets out of their sockets and tossed them overboard.”
“That’ll work. Okay. Everyone’s waiting for Rivera at the pad. With luck, it’ll be Yaotl, Nochtli, the guard, and the pilot. Four people at most. We drive up and hope they don’t get suspicious until it’s too late.”
“And if there’s a big party waiting for us?”
“We retreat.”
CHAPTER 19
BIG SUKUTI ISLAND
“OKAY, SIT TIGHT,” SAM SAID TO REMI.
He brought the cart to a halt and set the parking brake. Ahead he could see the crest of the path. He walked forward until he could see over the rise. A hundred feet down the path was a clearing where the road forked up to the main house. To the right of the clearing, sitting under the glow of a pole-mounted sodium-vapor lamp, was the helicopter pad.
Sam walked back to the cart. Remi asked, “How many?”
“I only saw three: the guard, Nochtli, and Yaotl, all standing together at the edge of the pad. They’ve all got AK-74s, but they’re slung over their shoulders. As for the pilot, no sign. He’s either at the house or sitting in the helicopter waiting.”
“No offense, Sam, but I hope it’s the latter. If we convince him to fly us—”
“No offense taken.”
“What about the bell?”
“It’s not on the Cushman. Looks like they’ve done the heavy lifting. I’ll take the first three; you head straight for the helicopter. You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” She crouched on the golf cart’s floor and ducked her head beneath the fiberglass dashboard. She looked up at him. “You don’t look much like Rivera.”
“As long as we get close enough fast enough, it won’t matter.”
Sam withdrew the .357 and the H&K from his pockets, tucked one each beneath a thigh, then released the parking brake and depressed the gas pedal. The cart eased forward, and within seconds they were over the crest and heading for the clearing. He resisted the impulse to jam the accelerator to the floorboards.
“Fifty feet to go,” he muttered to Remi. “Still haven’t seen us.”
&
nbsp; At thirty feet, Yaotl looked up and spotted the cart. He said something to the other two. They turned around. All eyes were on the cart now.
“Still no reaction,” Sam said. “Hold on tight. I’m going in.”
He stomped on the gas pedal, and the cart accelerated, covering the final twenty feet in a matter of seconds. Sam slammed on the brake, locking the parking mechanism, took his hands off the wheel, grabbed both guns, and jumped out before the trio, just outside the glow of the pole light. He raised both guns.