Burn

Faith smiled, like any other pleasant hostess. "Of course. Tiffany?"

"Why not? Maybe we could get some little cucumber sandwiches, too?" she added with a slightly evil grin.

Tiffany was one of those women who oozed sexuality. She was gorgeous, built, exotic, and the way she moved was unconsciously sensuous. Sitting there, watching her, Jenner couldn’t help but wonder if Cael and Tiffany had ever been … no, she didn’t want to go there. She felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks. As if she cared who Cael slept with! Well, he slept with her these days, in the very literal sense, but it wasn’t exactly sleeping she had on her mind when she wondered about him and Tiffany.

Faith ordered room service: hot tea, along with fruit and an assortment of pastries. Then she added that her guest would love some cucumber sandwiches, and while they weren’t on the menu, she’d be grateful if that was possible.

When Faith hung up, Tiffany said, "You should’ve requested the cute blond delivery boy."

Faith wasn’t smiling when she responded, "If Matt is working delivery this afternoon, he’ll keep an ear out for our suite numbers. For all we know, he’s on deck."

"Poor guy, he and Bridget drew the short straws on this one." Tiffany studied her long nails. "Crew quarters aren’t nearly as nice as the suites, and they have roommates to deal with. Of course, the seventy-five-cent beer at the crew bar makes up for a few of the inconveniences, but Matt has to store any gear he doesn’t want nosy roommates going through in your suite or mine, and I think he and Bridget both have to shower with their cell phones."

"Tiffany," Faith said in a censuring tone, glancing pointedly at Jenner.

"It’s not like she’s totally in the dark," Tiffany said, and turned to look directly at Jenner. "You’ve been a real trooper, Redwine."

As if she’d had any choice! Jenner calmly met her gaze. "Kiss my ass."

There was a burst of laughter from both women, and as it died away Tiffany added, "Shit. I like her."

CAEL LISTENED AGAIN to the recordings from the afternoon’s short meeting between Kwan and Larkin, his skin crawling as he heard EMP from the North Korean’s lips. He’d talked to his government contacts several times, by secure cell. It hadn’t taken the agents on the island any time at all to take over following Kwan, relieving Faith and Ryan so they could return to the ship and take up their duties here. The agents on-island would be moving in on Kwan that very night; he remained under surveillance, and as soon as the right people were in place he’d be in custody.

Though they’d located one contact, the job wasn’t over. Until they discovered who the traitor on the other end of the deal was there was a possibility of another sale, another transfer of information. One of Faith’s photos had identified the object being passed from Larkin to Kwan as a flash drive; it was possible that the FBI would be able to track its origins, but if not, their only lead was Frank Larkin.

Knowing exactly what Larkin was doing, Cael felt a new and bone-deep contempt for the man he was surveilling. An advanced EMP weapon in the wrong hands would be a nightmare for the entire world. He didn’t know a lot about electromagnetic pulse, just that it played havoc with electronics. The modern world operated by computers. Develop an effective way of stopping those computers, and all hell would break loose. An EMP wasn’t a people killer – unless those people happened to be in airplanes that were suddenly uncontrollable because all their circuits had been fried – but that kind of technology sure as hell wasn’t something he wanted in the hands of a rogue nation.

Cael also mentioned to his contact in D.C. that he suspected Larkin had something else, possibly crooked, in the works. There wasn’t any proof, just an odd line of overheard dialogue and a niggling feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

"Keep him under surveillance," said his contact. "You need to in any case, until we know who’s selling the technology. If you come up with anything concrete, pass it on and I’ll get the information to the right people."

A little less than two hours after he’d dropped Jenner off, Cael knocked on Faith and Ryan’s suite door, ready to collect his albatross. Before the door opened, he heard a burst of laughter that made his skin crawl. That wasn’t right. What had the little witch done now?

Faith opened the door and he quickly stepped inside, his gaze zeroing in on Jenner. He just felt safer when he knew exactly where she was and what she was doing. At the moment, she and Tiffany were sitting side by side on the sofa, laughing together. They turned their heads his way; Jenner’s smile faded quickly. There was something in her eyes …

He ignored it, though every instinct in him went on alert. "Ryan’s not back yet?"

"No," answered Faith. "After golf, he and Captain Lamberti were having drinks. He should be here soon."

He nodded toward the sofa. "What’s going on with those two?"

Faith’s smile was both wry and amused. "Apparently, they have a lot in common."

God in Heaven. Cael couldn’t keep the horror out of his expression. Every man on the ship should feel his testicles drawing up in fear. He knew his had.

Jenner stood and came to him, without being prompted. Despite what his testicles were doing, he liked that. He liked watching her approach, he liked the sense of all his systems going on alert.

"It’s time to call Syd," she said.

He checked his wristwatch. Actually, the time was already a little later than she’d been calling.

"I don’t want to be late calling, she might worry."

"Heaven forbid the hostage should be inconvenienced."

She sniffed. He hadn’t gotten to her at all with that comment. "And after that, what’s the plan for the evening? Dinner? A show? Karaoke?"