Burn

"I’m sorry," the kid blurted, scrambling to his feet. He popped up, reached for the tray, and damn if he didn’t stumble again, barely catching himself on the container that held the tree, almost turning it over. He caught the tree, but dropped the tray again.

"Sorry!" he yelped.

"Oh, for God’s sake!" Larkin yelled over the din. "Just get out!"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I’m sorry." The boy lurched for the tray, grabbed it, and this time managed to get out the door without falling again. He even collected himself enough to say "Enjoy your meal, sir" as he launched himself into the passageway.

After the door had closed, Larkin stood there breathing hard, his eyes closed as he waited for the nausea to subside. When it did, he looked at the food with loathing. Enjoy it? "I wish I could."

Out in the passageway, Matt resisted the urge to whistle. Some things were just too easy.

WITH THE WAY THE EVENING was structured, with different sections of passengers being allowed in the casino for an hour at a time for the big Charity Gamble, there were times when none of the team was actually in the casino area keeping an eye on Larkin. Cael swore some to himself, then accepted the situation and adapted as best he could.

He and Jenner were in the first group, Larkin’s group. The evening started out with the charity organizer, a buxom woman who glittered and sparkled and showed a lot of teeth, introduced Larkin as the host of the cruise and thanked him profusely for everything he’d done, blah blah blah. Cael felt Jenner’s attention perk up when Larkin was introduced, and he inwardly rolled his eyes. Great. Now she had a name, and one she probably recognized if she paid any attention to politics at all. Still, she had been bound to learn his name eventually, so it wasn’t really a big deal.

Larkin went to the blackjack table, where he began winning consistently though he didn’t seem to be having any fun doing it. Jenner eyed him for a minute, then headed for the blackjack table herself. Cael grabbed her arm, reeled her back in. "Not on your life," he muttered, steering her toward a nearby slot machine.

"But I want to play blackjack."

"Uh huh. Play Double Diamond instead, and act like you’re having fun." No way would he let her at the table with Larkin. She narrowed her eyes at him but began dutifully punching buttons and pulling levers, winning a little and losing more, while he surreptitiously watched Larkin.

Larkin was hosting the cruise, but for a host he didn’t seem to want to mingle very much. Though he’d produced a big smile when he was introduced, after that he barely acknowledged most of the guests. To Cael, it looked as if he didn’t like his fellow passengers very much, if the veiled contempt with which he watched them was anything to go by.

That in itself was surprising, because the people on the cruise were movers and shakers in their own right, with a lot of money behind them. If Larkin pissed off enough of them they could start talking to people in Washington with whom they had influence, and Larkin could very swiftly find himself on the outside, looking in at the power circle to which he had once belonged. If Larkin took no pleasure in hosting this cruise, he could’ve handed the duty over to someone else, one of the other co-owners. Why spend two weeks on the Silver Mist if hosting the cruise was such a chore?

Even the destination, Hawaii, and the possible meet with the North Koreans didn’t explain why he was putting himself through an experience he didn’t enjoy. Hell, he could have chartered a private jet and flown to Hawaii, then back the next day. There had to be another reason why he was on the cruise, because he sure as hell didn’t look as if he were enjoying himself.

They had studied information on every passenger aboard the Silver Mist, and at first glance there was no one who could be an industrial spy or a North Korean operative, but appearances and background information could be deceiving; he and his own crew were proof of that. So far Larkin had interacted with very few people, speaking mostly to his head of security, Dean Mills, but the ones he had spoken to, they had gone back and looked at again, to see if there was any detail they’d missed. Maybe investments had taken a particularly hard hit; maybe some photographs had been taken that someone wished to stay hidden. But there was nothing, and frustration ate at Cael because his instincts told him he was missing something.

Larkin hadn’t so much as turned on his laptop yet, so Faith’s key-logger program hadn’t yielded any results, pertinent or otherwise. Still, it was early.

After the hour for their group had passed, they had to leave the casino. There had been some big winners, but Jenner wasn’t one of them; in fact, he’d seldom seen anyone who lost as consistently at a slot machine as she did. Faith and Ryan were in the next group, so Cael was confident Larkin would remain under close surveillance. Then there was a gap, with no one in the third group, or the fourth – two hours without anyone in the casino area watching him. But a number of people were standing outside the casino, watching the gaming, shouting encouragement or groaning with disappointment when a friend failed to win, and he intended to join them. He’d be able to photograph anyone Larkin spoke to, even though he couldn’t get close enough to catch what was actually being said.

With Faith and Ryan on duty, Cael slipped his hand around Jenner’s waist and steered her toward the bar next to the casino. "Want something to drink?"

"No, thanks," she said, probably because he’d asked her if she wanted anything. If he hadn’t asked, he had no doubt she’d have demanded a drink.

"Then how about some ice cream?" There was a twenty-four-hour soft-serve ice cream bar, and it was already one of the most popular places on the ship.

"Thanks, but I’m not hungry."