momentum of the speedboat had carried its bow through the flames. He reached up, caught hold of the railing, and heaved himself into forward deck.
The rear of the speedboat was engulfed in flames, and Mutt lay screening on the deck. Behind him, Jeff sprayed foam from the fire extinguisher on to the flames. Dave surged forward and hit the man hard, knocking him into the raging fires. He found the man's rifle lying on the deck. Picking it up, he pumped three rounds into the burning engine then empty the magazine into the deck of the boat. Water began to surge in. He threw the gun overboard and running to the bow of the speedboat, dove. The concussion of the explosion drove him deep into the water. He stroked forward and surfaced at the stern of the sailboat.
"Mon Dieu,” Monique exclaimed as she stared at the burning speedboat.
Rachel and TJ said nothing. He climbed the ladder into the cockpit and shook his head.
“That was a stupid plan."
New Plan
Thursday, 4:08 p.m.
Monique adjusted their course and checked the speed. Eight knots. Not good, but it would have to do. She felt fear, and excitement.
The emails can put me in charge.
And all she needed to grasp that power was to get the secret out of a man that was already eating out of her hand.
"Dave, I need your phone," TJ demand.
"What are you thinking," he asked warily.
"I’m going to report the bomb. This is too dangerous for your cowboy solution. Millions of people could die. It could start World War III."
He pulled out the phone, looked at the display, and shrugged. "No signal."
TJ looked at Monique for support.
Monique smiled. "TJ, do you think telling your boss is wise?"
"How else can we get government’s help?" TJ sighed.
"Is your boss a good man?"
"You know he’s scum," TJ grimaced. "But what does that have to do with telling the government."
“Because the only way to get help is to tell men like your boss about Dave 2. It could be a disaster."
She leaned over and gave Dave a kiss. "I think the secret is safer with Dave, no?"
TJ frowned. "But we can't trust the safety of the United States, the peace of the world, to these half-baked plans that Dave keeps sending us from the future."
Monique considered her carefully. Greed won’t work with this one. What did she believe? What did she want?
"TJ, we are the best hope. If there had been any other way, Dave would have spared us the pain and danger and told the government long ago. The only reason he is putting himself at risk is that there is no other way to stop the bomb."
TJ looked at Dave and nodded her head.
"What," he looked hurt. "You don't think I would have tried to save my country if it was too much trouble?"
TJ and Monique looked each other. Monique could see she was only halfway there. What does she want?
"It would be interesting to work with the Twins," TJ sighed. "I've often thought that such trans-temporal entanglements would be the key to true artificial intelligence."
Got you.
She smiled sympathetically.
"If you tell your boss, he'll keep you away from the Twins, just like he did with your other successes."
As TJ considered the idea, Monique went for the kill.
"And we can try it both ways, for safety. We can try and stop Max ourselves, and if we fail you notify the government."
She’s hooked. Dave would be no problem. He didn't want to give up the emails, and feared that he might go to jail or lose his money if he told the authorities about them.
"Okay," TJ began, "We try and stop the bombers, and if that fails, I call in the cavalry?"
Monique nodded. Now, how to convince Rachel. She knew nothing about the woman.
"I'm in too," Rachel declared. "I feel a lot safer doing this ourselves than trusting some desk jockeys in Washington to get it right."
“Superb," Monique beamed.
Betrayal
Thursday 9:11 p.m.
Max paced the empty hangar. Tomorrow he would either be a billionaire, or broke with the craziest fanatics in the world after his head. It all depended on what he decided now.
Does the plane have to leave from Jamaica? Would anyone notice if we flew it straight from the island?
He sighed. They may notice, and he couldn’t take the chance. Only a plane from Sunrise Air could bluff its way along the flight path required to satisfy his insane employers and the equally crazy pilots and technicians that would fly plane. And if they did something crazy…
He stared at the suicide crew smoking by the hangar doors. It would be so much easier if he could just blow up the capitol. Anyone could pull that off, just put the bomb on a pleasure boat and sail it in close or drive it in a rental truck, but those crazy fanatics had to send a message. Ground Zero had to be the White House. He shook his head.
If he could just be sure that those agents were no longer a threat, he would order the plane to leave in two hours, and everything would be on schedule. But unless he knew, he couldn't take the risk. He couldn't be caught with the bomb.
His phone chimed softly. He slipped it from his jacket pocket and read the display. Incredulous, he read the message again.
"Jorge, Antonio, necessito quarto hombres, pronto.”
He thought for a moment but couldn't remember the right word in Spanish.
“Grande guns,” he emphasized, pantomiming holding an assault rifle.
Jorge and Antonio nodded and ran to the back room.
"The people you are looking for arriving at Montego Bay Yacht Club Wharf, 11 p.m.”
It might be a trap, but he really had no choice. He had to check it out.
Capture
Thursday, 11:02 p.m.
Rachel tingled with excitement. After the decision had been made to try again to stop the bomb, leadership for the operation had naturally fallen into her. And she was having fun.
"Let's go over the plan one more time. At the wharf, we split up. TJ and Monique walk to the Sunset Beach Resort, check in, and lock themselves in a room with the telephone. Dave and I will take Monique's rental car and head for Sunrise Air. We make sure the camera is working. If you don’t hear from us, something is wrong and you tell the CIA."
They were sitting in the darkened cockpit, riding at anchor a short distance from the wharf. She looked at each one in turn until she got a nod of understanding. She noted that TJ looked relieved, Monique concerned, and Dave, she couldn't read him.
"Any messages?" she asked.
He checked the new phone and shook his head.
"Maybe we should wait," TJ wondered aloud.
Rachel shook her head firmly. "No, we've only gotten messages when they needed to steer us in another direction. Absent a message, we must assume were on the right track."
Dave nodded and climbed down the ladder into the inflatable boat. He steadied it while TJ and Monique joined him. Rachel uncleated the inflatable and climbed in after them. Then they each took oar and rowed quietly toward the wharf.
At the wharf, she tied off the inflatable and climbed the ladder. There was music and laughter coming from the resorts onshore, but the wharf itself was quiet. She waved for the others to join her, and when everyone had ascended the ladder, they walked quickly towards shore. As they passed a shuttered bait shack, a man stepped out of the shadows and leveled a gun at them. She dropped quickly and swung her right leg in a broad arc, sweeping the man off his feet. She snatched up his gun, but froze when she felt a gun barrel touching the back of her head.
"Bad idea. Drop it," a voice whispered behind her.
She carefully set the gun on the wharf and standing looked around. They were surrounded by six heavily armed men. The seventh got slowly to his feet.
"Hello Monique," a smooth Boston accent said conversationally. "Glad to finally catch up with you.”
&
nbsp; This must be Max.
The voice turned steely. “If you value your lives, you will do exactly as I say. Now walk, single file.”
The men march them down the wharf to a pair of waiting black SUVs. She thought about making a break at a stop light in Montego Bay, but a gun to her neck restrained her. Minutes later they arrived at the airport, stopping at the side door to Sunrise Air, and were directed inside. She glanced quickly at the camera and was relieved to see it was still in place.
"Sustantivo," the Bostonian directed one of the men, who pointed with his gun towards a door at the back of the hangar.
"Monique," the Bostonian called after them. "I'm going to find out why you and your friends are here. Please don't make it unpleasant."
"Don't tell me this is part of your plan," TJ spat.
Rachel wondered if it was.
The future Dave wants to keep the Twins a secret. He may be making sure TJ doesn’t tell the CIA.
She hadn't been sure how they would get into the hangar, but now they were in. Maybe it was so far so good.
The man drove them down a long hallway and through a heavy door into a storage room. There he directed them to sit on the floor while he cradled his rifle, and watched.
Escape Friday
12:19 a.m.
"Do you speak English?" Dave asked the guard, who responded by pointing the gun at him and glaring.
"Lo siento," Dave responded to raising his hands and bowing his head submissively. "I'd really like to know how I'm going to get us out of this."
A phone rang, the guard’s phone. He pulled it from his pocket and listened for a moment. Then gesturing threateningly with his gun, he left the room. Somewhere behind them another phone rang.
"Right on time," Dave smiled.
He jumped to his feet and ran quickly down