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  Esteban saw Sergey reach for the oar and bring it up in a wide swinging arc. Esteban dodged toward the other side of the small watercraft. The movement of the two men caused movements in the opposite direction in the zodiac which were compounded by the oscillating waves. Sergey swung again and Esteban ducked just a little too slowly - the tip of the plastic oar glanced off of Esteban’s head. It was a glancing blow but Esteban knew it had drawn blood. The oar wasn’t heavy but if it hit him hard, it could stun him enough to give his opponent an opportunity to move in for the kill. Esteban saw Sergey wind up to swing the oar again and grabbed the other oar, bringing it up just in time to parry Sergey’s blow. Esteban stayed low and held the oar out in front of him like a sword. Sergey shifted from side to side, his oar cocked back in one hand like a baseball batter, his other hand held out in front of him, waiting for a chance to grab Esteban’s oar. The two men circled each other warily, each conscious of the narrowness of their arena and the risk of a single misstep.

  Tabitha was running out of options when Anna stabbed forward again. This time, Tabitha stumbled while stepping backward. Anna drew her knife back and prepared to pounce on Tabitha when a large shape swung around the mast behind her. Dennis, his hands grasping the thick nylon fiber of the main halyard, swung forward a few meters, shouted with rage and planted both of his feet squarely into Anna’s back before losing his grip. Anna shrieked in pain and fell to her knees as Dennis came crashing down on his ass.

  Tabitha took advantage of Anna’s distraction and jumped forward, grabbing Anna’s knife hand and twisting with all her strength. Anna turned her right shoulder to give her arm more room to rotate before the tendons would be forced to release the knife in her right hand. At the same time, she swung her left arm around and landed her fist on the side of Tabitha’s face. It wasn’t a strong blow but it stunned Tabitha long enough to release her hold on Anna’s knife hand. She stepped back and prepared to stab forward when Dennis, having regained his feet, charged toward her, both hands balled into fists

  Anna took a second step back but instead of dodging Dennis entirely, she reached out with her left hand and grasped Dennis’s left fist. She let his own momentum carry him, simply guiding him past her body and toward the lifeline on the far side of the sailboat. She saw the anger in his eyes as he realized she had outmaneuvered him turn to surprise as she drove her knife into his upper left arm. She’d been aiming for his neck and cursed herself for missing a potentially fatal wound but she knew that the knife had penetrated deeply.

  Dennis’s speed did not decrease in time to avoid colliding with the thin steel cable lifeline around the edge of the Blue Orchid. It was barely waist high on Dennis. Anna landed a high, thrusting kick in the center of his back just as his body hit the line and he toppled overboard. Anna felt a sense of satisfaction as Dennis shouted and then his body splashed into the water below.

  Tabitha saw with horror that Anna’s knife had connected with Dennis’s upper arm and she lunged forward. As Dennis fell over the lifeline, Tabitha spun toward Anna and kicked out with her right leg. She swept Anna’s feet out from under her and saw her fall backward. Anna didn’t land hard on the deck as Tabitha had hoped. Instead she twisted as she fell and rolled onto her front. As Tabitha stepped in to take another kick, Anna braced her free hand on the deck, clenched her knife in the other and kicked backward with her right leg. Her foot connected with Tabitha’s abdomen and Tabitha felt all of the air leave her lungs. She stumbled backward, dazed, before sitting down hard on the deck. Anna sprang back to her feet and took a step toward Tabitha. Tabitha tried to move backward, kicking her legs against the smooth deck but she soon felt the thud of the mast against her back and shoulder. Anna stepped toward her and Tabitha knew she was trapped. She braced herself for the thrust she knew was coming and which she doubted she could block.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!” Molly shouted and Anna looked up. Molly stepped around the mast and stood next to where Tabitha was sitting, still unable to inhale.

  Anna looked at the bright orange plastic gun in Molly’s hand and laughed.

  “You foolish girl, that’s not a real gun!”

  Anna raised her knife and lunged forward. Molly pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang and an explosion of sparks as the emergency signal flare fired directly into Anna’s face at close range. She screamed, dropped her knife and brought her hands up, too late to protect her from the shower of flames coming from the flare.

  The flare bounced to the deck, still spitting fire and sparks. It skimmed past Tabitha, falling into the hatch that led into the main cabin. Anna continued to scream and stumbled backward, clutching at her burned face. Molly hadn’t moved since firing the flare. She stood like a statue, her mouth open in horror. Tabitha, however, scrambled to her feet and charged at Anna, driving her shoulder into the other woman’s chest, pushing her against the lifeline and then over it. Anna clutched at Tabitha’s hair as she tipped over the edge of the sailboat but she could not catch hold. She shrieked again as the fell to the water below. Tabitha grabbed for the lifeline and steadied herself just short of falling in as well.

  Sergey heard the pop of the flare behind him, saw the flash of reddish light against Esteban’s face and then heard Anna’s scream. The impulse to turn his head was overwhelming, despite the proximity of his adversary. A split second later he regained control and turned back to face Esteban but that brief distraction was enough. Esteban lunged forward and upward with the paddle in his hands. The flat blade struck Sergey in the jaw hard enough to lift his head upward and for the paddle blade to slide back and smash into his throat. Sergey stumbled backward, swatting the paddle away from his neck but Esteban was already close enough to land a hard fist in Sergey’s stomach.

  Sergey tried to step backward again but he was already at the edge of the small boat and his heel struck the inflated perimeter of the zodiac. He tried to shift his weight to his other foot and get his hands up to defend himself but Esteban swung his paddle around again like a baseball bat, this time connecting with the left side of Sergey’s head, crushing his ear against his skull. Sergey grunted in pain and reached out to grasp Esteban’s paddle. He got his hand around the shaft just above the blade and pulled - but Esteban had already let go of the paddle and Sergey tipped backward, on the very edge of losing his balance. Seeing his chance, Esteban planted a sharp front kick into Sergey’s abdomen, sending the other man tumbling over the side of the boat and into the water.

  Dennis felt the shockingly cold water surround him as he fell in, momentarily overwhelming the searing pain in his shoulder. He quickly fought his way to the surface and gasped for breath. Just then, the brackish water caused by the tidal mixing of the salty Long Island Sound and the freshwater of Cedar Creek entered his wound. His stab wound rapidly overtook his shoulder as his chief source of pain.

  Dennis grimaced and tried his best to swim while moving just his right arm. He could stay above water but only barely. He was forced to move his left arm and a grunt of agony escaped his lips. He tried to decide if he should attempt to untie his heavy shoes or swim to the stern of the Blue Orchid with them still on. Before he could make up his mind, though, he heard a loud pop and saw a red flash. He heard Anna scream and a moment later the Excelsior executive appeared at the edge of the sailboat directly above Dennis. He saw Tabitha crash into Anna and then saw Anna fall into the water beside him.

  Dennis immediately started swimming away but with a flash of terror he felt something clutch at his right ankle. A powerful tug pulled him under the surface and water filled his mouth and poured into his lungs. In desperation, Dennis kicked frantically at his right ankle with his left foot. He was being pulled deeper and he panicked, split between the desire to swim to the surface and the need to be free from Anna. The grip on his ankle tightened and Dennis knew Anna had both hands on him now. The faint light from the surface was growing dimmer and the popping in his ears told him he was sinking deeper. His lungs screamed and convulsed in pain. In sheer a
nimal terror he kicked wildly with both feet and felt a crunch as his left foot connected with something solid. He kicked again and again and the grip on his ankle weakened and fell away.

  Dennis thrashed his way to the surface, coughed hard, inhaled more water as a wave slapped his face and coughed again. He clawed at the smooth side of the Blue Orchid but he couldn’t find anything to hold on to on its hull so he began swimming toward the stern as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, his heavy Converse high-top shoes made swimming difficult and his lungs spasmed with coughs, often bringing in as much water as they expelled.

  The stern of the sailboat was only twenty meters away but it seemed impossibly far. Dennis tried to shout but only managed to cough again. There was no answering voice but he did hear the sound of a motor. The sound grew louder and then Dennis saw the zodiac come around the stern of the Blue Orchid and turn toward him. He realized that if Sergey was driving the small boat then Dennis was unlikely to survive. He tried to think of what to do but no answer came to mind. He couldn’t see who was driving the boat as it approached him but when it slowed he was relieved to recognize Esteban’s face leaning over the side.

  “Need a lift?” Esteban said, smiling.

  Dennis thought it would be a more convincing display of nonchalance if Esteban’s mouth weren’t bleeding profusely.

  “Ah, fuck,” was all Dennis could splutter between coughs as Esteban reached down and hauled him over the inflated rubber side of the zodiac.

  Once Dennis was safely in the zodiac, Esteban returned to the outboard motor at the back, engaged the propeller, pivoted the motor in its bearing and turned the inflatable around.

  “Where’s the woman?” Esteban asked over the load purr of the motor.

  “Drowned, I hope,” Dennis replied and then started coughing again.

  “Good,” Esteban agreed. “I knocked the guy into the water but I don’t know how bad he’s hurt yet. Let’s get back to the Orchid before he does.”

  “Too late!” Dennis yelled, pointing. There, at the stern of the Blue Orchid, they could clearly see the silhouette of a man climbing out of the water.

  “Oh fuck,” Esteban agreed.

  At that point a bright orange glow illuminated the man. A flame lept from the hatch of the Blue Orchid and reddish light shone from the portals.

  “Oh crap, the boat’s on fire!” Esteban shouted.

  “We need to get to Molly and Tab!” Dennis answered.

  Just then, Esteban and Dennis saw the two women, running toward the bow of the boat. Sergey had climbed onto the stern of the Blue Orchid and was walking unsteadily forward as well, trying to stay away from where flames and smoke were billowing up from the interior.

  Esteban turned the zodiac around again and then twisted the throttle on the small motor as far as it would go. The little boat zoomed forward. As it neared the bow of the larger sailboat, Esteban yelled to the women.

  “Jump!”

  Molly turned at hearing Esteban’s voice and grabbed Tabitha’s arm. Tabitha had been watching Sergey’s approach but she looked where Molly was pointing, down from the bow. She saw Dennis waving and heard Esteban shout again.

  “Jump! Hurry!”

  Molly climbed unsteadily over the anchor and lifeline at the bow and then jumped. She landed two meters lower on the rigid hull of the zodiac.

  “Ow!” she exclaimed and rolled onto her side, clutching her ankle.

  Tabitha took one look back at the shadowy outline of the man, now passing the mast, stumbling forward unsteadily but relentlessly. The flames behind him made it impossible to see his face but Tabitha sensed the rage and determination nonetheless. It was time to leave.

  Tabitha aimed her landing to hit the inflated side of the zodiac which absorbed the impact easily, rebounding her slightly into the air. As soon as she came to rest she turned to Esteban and simply said, “Let’s go.”

  Even before he heard her words, he was already increasing the throttle and the small boat with its four injured passengers accelerated away from the Blue Orchid.

  Esteban turned the zodiac toward the south-west, racing away from the harbor and toward the open waters of Long Island Sound. Anticipating the question, Esteban said, “I’m taking us out of the harbor and to the Fairfield Marina just down the coast a little bit. We can dock there without attracting attention at this time of night.”

  Dennis started to ask why they weren’t heading straight for the Black Rock Yacht Club’s dock, just a few hundred meters away to the north-west when he saw blue flashing lights at the far north end of the harbor. A police boat of some kind. Dennis’s lungs convulsed and he coughed again several times. When the fit subsided he looked back. The police boat was still far away but it was clearly heading toward the Blue Orchid. The sailboat itself was in flames but Dennis thought he could see the outline of a man standing on the bow.

  Twenty-Eight

  “Two more contacts, sir.”

  Brad Williams, Special Agent in Charge (SAC) of the Seattle Field Office of the FBI looked up from his phone. The tech next to him pointed at a flat panel display mounted on the wall of the tactical support truck that Williams and the tech were sitting in.

  “One is here, at about five thousand feet elevation. It’s slow moving. Might be a surveillance glider,” the tech continued.

  “And the other?”

  “Here, sir. At treetop level, just off of this forest service road.”

  “Watching for approaching vehicles, probably,” Agent Williams opined.

  “Yes, sir,” the tech concurred.

  “Shit.” This was going to make things difficult.

  Special Agent Williams’s day had started badly. Budget review meetings were just about his least favorite part of the job. He was pretty sure he actually preferred being shot at by bad guys to endless hours reviewing spreadsheets with a dozen senior bureaucrats second guessing everything. Midway through the meeting he’d received an urgent call from Marsha Saunders, the San Francisco SAC. Apparently they had a major terrorism case unfolding that centered on a Silicon Valley aerospace startup. The CEO had flown to Spokane shortly before the FBI’s raid of his office in Palo Alto. Counterterrorism cases were always a big deal but Marsha had made it clear that this one was exceptional. A phone call from the Assistant Director for Counterterrorism in DC had reinforced the point.

  Williams received intelligence from DC shortly thereafter that had identified a large estate on the edge of the Coer d’Alene National Forest in Northern Idaho as belonging to a shell company owned by the executive in question. The guys out East were betting that the prime suspect, Ruben St. James, was hiding out there. It was unclear if he was alone or if he was armed - but the Assistant Director had made it very clear that they wanted St. James captured alive if at all possible. And that time was of the essence.

  So a few hours later, Agent Williams was in the tactical command truck of a hastily assembled rapid response force, parked in a vacant lot behind a Conoco station just off I-90 in Kingston, Idaho. The estate was just five kilometers further north but getting there would require navigating quiet back-country roads where the FBI vehicles were sure to draw attention. Prudence dictated that they first survey the terrain. Agent Williams was glad that they had made that decision. They’d launched a stealth surveillance drone and it had confirmed the layout of the estate: a large two-story home set on a ridgeline, a detached three-car garage just below it and a few smaller buildings all surrounded by several hundred hectares of mountains and pine forest. All indirectly owned by Mr. St James. And all, apparently, guarded by at least two drones. Surprise would be difficult.

  “Spotted a third one, sir,” the tech exclaimed and gestured at the screen.

  “Type?” Agent Williams asked.

  “Not sure, sir. I haven’t been able to get a visual yet. It’s very low, slow moving. We picked it up on EM, it’s pinging at regular intervals…”

  The technician zoomed in on the location where the FBI’s stealth surveillance
drone had detected the radio emissions. It was a dense grove of pine trees. They couldn’t see anything at first but then the drone moved into an opening in the forest.

  “Ah, shit. It’s a GuardDog,” Agent Williams cursed.

  The Doberman-sized quadruped with an eerie not-quite-animal gait trotted across the meadow and disappeared into another grove of pine trees.

  The technician rewound the video and froze a frame that showed the GuardDog clearly. He zoomed in and pointed to a long, slim cylinder protruding from the robot’s ‘head’. “That sure looks like a rifle barrel attachment,” the technician said. “Not quite the same as the military version but similar.”

  “Well, that would be illegal,” Agent Williams replied. “But I wouldn’t bet against it.”

  “Did you find any others? GuardDogs are usually deployed in packs if they’re covering this much territory, right?” Agent Williams continued.

  “The surveillance bird hasn’t detected any others yet, sir. But they could be operating in low power mode. In warm temperatures like this we wouldn’t see them on IR or EM unless they were fully active. And with all the trees it would be easy to avoid visual detection. He could have dozens of those things up there waiting for us...”

  “Crap, this isn’t looking any easier, is it.”

  “No sir. It’s not.”

  Ruben St. James yawned. The soft warm glow of early afternoon sunlight streamed in through the floor to ceiling glass windows of the master bedroom. He had named his estate Rivendell - there was a wrought iron sign with that name over the main doorway - but on days like today he thought of it more as his Fortress of Solitude. His cabin in the wilderness where he came to be alone and to regain strength. It was his hidden refuge. But it was also a mansion, fit for a man of Ruben’s achievements and tastes.