Vacation to Die For (6 page)

“You mean he has a bug up his ass?” Arnie asks with a chuckle.

Ryan frowns. “Not quite. It was placed in his foot, without the good doctor’s knowledge.”

Emma frowns, “Isn’t that an invasion of his privacy?” 

Deep in thought, Dominic’s finger taps the table. And yes, every woman in the room—Emma, Ryan’s secretary Janine, and I—is mesmerized.

Not with the tapping, but with the thickness and length of his fingers. 

Ryan shows his annoyance by snapping his fingers in Janine’s face. “As a matter of fact, prior to signing on, every employee working on the project willingly agreed to the implant, except for Dr. Mandrake. The NSA agreed to his terms because of his superior knowledge and his previous discoveries in this area of research.” 

“And because they knew eventually they’d get the chance to implant the chip without him ever knowing about it,” Emma mutters.

Ryan shrugs. “The project falls under the auspices of PRISM, and therefore unwarranted surveillance of those working on NSA projects is a matter of national security. In this case, it turns out embedding a GPS chip was a good thing, since it may save millions of lives. One scenario is that he’ll use the island’s guests as guinea pigs to test the plague vaccine’s effectiveness. An even worse scenario is that he’s meeting with a few interested parties—an enemy nation, say, or a terrorist organization—and selling it to the highest bidder.”

“Do we know for a fact that he wasn’t kidnapped, along with the samples?” Jack asks.

“That very well could be the case. But unfortunately for Dr. Mandrake, a crucial four hours of video footage covering the time of his disappearance has been obliterated, from both his office and condo security feeds. Also gone is his NSA photo file and ID info. All we’ve got to go on is one photo of him, snapped by a colleague at the department’s annual Christmas party.” 

The photo appears on the screen. Everyone scrutinizes it silently, but it’s too fuzzy to make out the sort of details we’ll need to validate a suspect. “I know it’s slim pickings,” Ryan opines. “Even so, our facial recognition software has picked up a few features that can help our ID process. Jack, as for your question, the bottom line is that we don’t know if the disappearance of Mandrake’s file was a kidnapper’s doing, or Mandrake’s. But after the Snowden and Grodin debacles, the NSA is taking no chances that Mandrake might indeed be a traitor. Our orders are to shoot first and ask questions later.”

Emma frowns. “At the same time, we have no idea what the good doctor looks like?”

“All we know is that he’s single and in his late forties, around five-feet eleven inches, with dark hair,” Ryan answers. “He’s a loner, has no family to speak of, and he has pretty much kept to himself. His hobbies are hunting and math games.”

“Other than the logical choices of the Hunt Club and Eden Key, it doesn’t give us much at all to go on,” Dominic and I say in unison. Instinctively I glance over at him. His sly smile makes me blush.

And yes, Jack notices this, which is why he’s now frowning.

Ryan’s expression warns us that all eyes should be focused on him. “He does have one distinguishing mark,” he continues, “a tattoo of a mushroom cloud, at the base of his spine.”

 “I say, Ryan, are we to blithely ask the other guests to drop trou without so much as a promise of a dirty weekend?” Dominic chuckles as he asks the question, but he also seems intrigued by the thought.

Ryan’s eyes narrow at the inference. “Prime suspects with cause for examination will be routed to the mission’s honey pot.” 

Meaning 
moi
.

Oh boy, seems I’ve got my work cut out for me. From what the manifest shows, between guests and staff, there are at least hundred and sixty men on the island.

Time to change the subject, which I do without looking up from the note I’m writing to myself. (
Lose eight pounds by tomorrow: Fantasy?
 
Sexy muumuu: oxymoron?
) “I take it we’ve at least pinpointed his location to the island, thanks to the GPS tracker?”

“Yes, but he’s apparently roaming all over the place—something which also merits suspicion. And sometimes the GPS signal disappears completely. All the more reason we have to bring him—and the plague samples—back to the NSA as soon as possible.” Ryan circles the room. “Acme has secured six seats on Fantasy Island’s weekly private charter jet, which leaves three times a day, from Orange County Airport. Each plane is met by the island’s Director of Resorts, Mr. Boarke—” The photo on the monitor has changed. It now shows an elegant man in a white suit. His face is regal, and his hair has grayed just at the temples—“and Battoo, his assistant, who is also the island’s head concierge.” 

The monitor switches again. This time Boarke is standing next to a man who is a third of his height. The diminutive man’s suit, also white linen, is accessorized with a bowtie. “With Battoo’s help, Boarke prides himself on knowing all of Fantasy Island’s guests. Odds are one of them knows of Mandrake’s whereabouts. But since the island’s unspoken slogan is ‘What happens on Fantasy stays on Fantasy,’ we can’t expect them to break protocol.”

“Even if the island’s other guests are at risk?” Dominic asks.

“Unfortunately, yes. But one of Arnie’s jobs will be to monitor the air and water safety gauges that he and Abu will set up around the island. The first place to start is the water filtration system and the HVAC systems in all the resorts’ facilities.”

Abu nods. “Right, boss.”

“As for Boarke, he has an equity stake in the success of the resorts. The last thing he’d want is for guests to leave in droves, and rumors of an island plague epidemic would do just that. It would be his financial ruin. And unfortunately, Fantasy Island is not under the jurisdiction of the United States, let alone that of any favored nation. When it comes to finding Mandrake, we’re on our own.” Ryan stands to face us. “Two agents will work out of each resort. Abu, you and Emma now have gainful employment in the Hunt Club, as a Gun Room concierge and a chambermaid, respectively. As such, you’ll have the access needed to identify possible suspects. Emma, you’ll have the added responsibility of assessing their backstories for anomalies.”

Emma and Abu nod as they take this in. 

Dominic, you and Arnie will be embedded at Eden Key. Arnie, like Emma, you’ll be charged with profile validations, as well as any other tech ops.”

 “Al
right
! Just two amigos playing with some fine ladies!” Expecting a high-five, Arnie raises his hand toward Dominic, who ignores it. 

Hearing his enthusiasm, Emma’s face clouds over. If that was the response he was looking for, he certainly got it. Frankly, I don’t think it’s one he should want.

Dominic’s reaction is no more than a raised brow. “I say, chap, perhaps we should feign acknowledging each other’s existence. That way, we double our efforts.”

The diss goes over Arnie’s head. He honors Dominic’s suggestion with a fist pump. 

“Jack and Donna will be based at Kamp KidStuff,” Ryan continues. “Donna, if you want, feel free to take your children along for cover.”

Albeit this mission seems less dangerous than most, but I wouldn’t want to take the chance that I’d put my children in the line of fire. Thank goodness my real excuse for nixing his suggestion gives me the chance to at least sound like a team player. “As it turns out, all my children are away at various camps and activities over the course of the next couple of weeks.”

“I see.” Ryan frowns in disappointment. “Well, that at least allows for a different combination, should the situation call for it.”

Dominic smiles. “May I make a suggestion?”

Ryan nods. “By all means.”

“Why not embed Emma and Arnie as youth counselors in Camp KidStuff? That way, you can shift Jack to the Hunt Club. His current cover as an international financier will certainly grant him entrée. Donna and I can cover Eden Key—separate huts, but of course.” He looks over at me and winks.

Am I flattered that he so obviously wants to partner with me? But of course.

“Sounds like a plan.” Ryan scribbles something on a pad.

Emma and Arnie exchange glances and blushes. All posturing aside, their budding relationship is at that delicate juncture where trust and commitment intersect.

Jack and I are 
sooooo
 far beyond that, which is why I’m sure he’s getting just as big a kick out of Dominic’s flirtations as I am.

Or maybe not. Jack is no longer smiling. “Why does Dominic get to cover Eden Key with Donna? It just doesn’t make sense. For one reason, we’re a proven mission team. For another, wouldn’t it be more believable for a publicly-acknowledged couple to take a vacation there?”

 “I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” Dominic interjects. “It’s a singles resort. We’ll be going undercover, as single consenting adults”—he winks at me when he says this—“which is much better for the mission, is it not, Ryan?”

Jack’s mouth drops open—then shuts again.

Because he knows Dominic is right. 

He turns to me. “Donna, what do you think?”

 “Well….
hmmm
. Well, I…” I turn from him, to Dominic, and back to Jack. “I’ll do whatever is best for the mission.”

Ryan nods. “Then it’s settled. Donna, since ID validation falls on you, you’ll also act as mission leader on this assignment. That said, group reconnaissance meetings take place in Donna’s tiki as needed, or every forty-eight hours, beginning at nineteen-hundred hours on Day One. Along with plane tickets under your aliases, you’ll also find an all-inclusive island pass, which allows you to move freely from one resort to another. Abu, Arnie and Emma will take the flight at ten o’clock tonight. Dominic, Donna and Jack will take a later one, which leaves at ten tomorrow morning.” He waves his hand at Janine, who nods dutifully as she makes the necessary travel changes.

 “Jack isn’t piloting the plane, right?” Arnie asks with a snort. “If so, the last place I want to be is an exit door seat.” 

Again no one laughs—certainly not Jack—although I detect a shadow of a smile on Dominic’s lips.

Ryan sighs tiredly as he looks down at his notes. Class is dismissed. 

Emma smacks Arnie on the head as she takes her ticket and heads out the door. If that’s not a broad enough hint for him to cut the lame jokes, then I don’t know what is.

Okay, maybe I do. But it’s going to hurt.

Jack pats me on the shoulder. “Hey, this one should be fun. Sand, sun, sex on the beach”—When all eyes turn to us, he smiles—“drinks, I mean. And at least we won’t have to fake the rum-fueled romance part.” 

Ryan looks up. “Jack, you’ve got it wrong. Donna 
will
 be faking it—with Dominic.”

Ooops
.

Jack stares at Ryan. Then at Dominic. 

And finally, at me.

I’m too awestruck too say anything.

But Jack doesn’t know that. His take on things is that I’m not supporting him.

He shrugs as he leaves the room.

 “Petulant prat, eh? Not to worry, my sweet. Jealousy is a wonderful aphrodisiac.” Dominic grins as he takes my hand in his. “Speaking of which, what say you join me for a bowl of mussels, at that little boîte on the beach just around the corner—what is it called? Oh yes, the Sand Dollar! We can work on our cover over dinner and a good bottle of wine.” Gently, with one of those thick fingers, he traces the lifeline on my palm. “We’ll play dessert by ear.”

As Dominic leans in ever closer, he blocks my view of Jack, who is walking out the door.

Hopefully, not out of my life.

I should go after Jack, shouldn’t I? But wouldn’t it be rude to jerk my hand away? Besides, Jack said it best: our relationship is built upon mutual trust.

I guess that’s why I stand and say to Dominic, “So sorry, old boy. I’ve already got dinner plans—with Jack.” 

Dominic’s eyes narrow even as he smirks. He suddenly realizes things aren’t going the way he’d planned. 

That’s okay. I’m not the only one he’ll respect in the morning. If this mission is going to succeed, he’s got to show some courtesy to Jack, as well.

I sashay toward the door after the man I love.

But he’s already gone home. Without me.

By the time I’ve walked home, I’m sweaty, hungry, and tired.

On the other hand, Lassie and Rin Tin Tin are well-fed. Seems that Jack gave them our steaks, then went out to eat on his own.

I’m a big girl. I can forgive him. When he comes home, I’ll make it up to him.