shooting platform for Forsythe. It gives him a good view of our side of this island.” He pointed to the north side of the house. “The tennis courts and pool are closed for the season.”
“Hard to believe they pay us for this,” Martinez said.
“This isn't a vacation,” Greg reminded her sharply. “The Devlins are never to leave the house unescorted. Anything feels wrong, use whatever force you need to get on top of things. Neutralize the situation, ask questions later. We are authorized to use any lethal force we deem necessary, which is why this crew is made up of the people it is. Shifts are listed on the board in the security room.”
“Cherry Point is supplying heavy protection. They've moved in some combat-equipped attack helicopters and even have some SEALs bivouacked just down the coast. We sound an alarm and cavalry arrives in minutes. I'll show you the other side the island.”
After taking the path behind the house that led through the trees to the west side of the island, the marshals stood overlooking the naval facility. “Radar station is manned by six sailors,” Greg informed them. “They're under orders to stay on this side of the tree line while we're here. Cover story is that there's an admiral vacationing with his wife. As far as anybody knows we're Navy security.
“That big building is the barracks and the one just behind it is an equipment shed. The radio room is the building with the dish tower on top of it. The ramp beside it leads down to the pier. Store boat normally delivers supplies on Thursdays and ferries sailors as necessary. The cigarette racer and the sport-fishing boat are for the brass.”
“How long we here for?” Martinez asked.
“Devlin is set to testify before a congressional committee on organized crime early next week. I doubt we'll be returning here after that. With this guy, if the Justice Department gets nervous, we could be asked to make a move onto a military base without warning.”
“How do you get orders?”
Greg smiled and reached into his pocket. “This is a Palm organizer bought by some civil servant's wife—it can communicate wirelessly through an account in her name. I send encrypted e-mails, our people reply. It's about as immediate as a phone call and absolutely secure. There's not a working phone on our side of the island.”
Martinez said, “Great food, sun, surf, hazardous-duty pay, and an army over my shoulder. They'll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.”
Greg chuckled. “Please don't throw me in de briar patch!”
Back at the safe house, the trio of marshals found Dave Beck sitting at a console watching the monitors hooked to cameras covering the entire western side of the island.
The security room was carpeted, windowless, and large enough for two chairs and a couch. Three of the monitors showed views of the house's exterior doors and porch, the beach, pool, and tennis courts. Three other monitors showed interior views: the hallway outside the security room, and other halls and rooms in the house. The view on each screen changed every five seconds.
“This is a restricted zone we're in. The sailors report any craft in the sky or on the water,” Greg said. He pointed to the panel. “Whenever an outside door is opened, that light flashes. You can zoom and pan the cameras. After dinner, Beck will show you how everything here works.”
“In an emergency, hit this red button and we get help.”
“Once it's triggered, they come to investigate,” Greg said. “A helicopter gunship arrives first, followed by a Blackhawk packed with our SEAL friends. Time to introduce you to our Mr. Devlin,” he added. “If he's receiving.”
Greg tapped on the door to the Devlins' bedroom. “Mr. Devlin, it's Greg,” he called out. “Got some people to introduce.”
“Enter, Inspector,” a male voice replied.
The Devlins were sitting on the bed holding hands. Dylan was wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt; his left ankle
“Hard to believe they pay us for this,” Martinez said.
“This isn't a vacation,” Greg reminded her sharply. “The Devlins are never to leave the house unescorted. Anything feels wrong, use whatever force you need to get on top of things. Neutralize the situation, ask questions later. We are authorized to use any lethal force we deem necessary, which is why this crew is made up of the people it is. Shifts are listed on the board in the security room.”
“Cherry Point is supplying heavy protection. They've moved in some combat-equipped attack helicopters and even have some SEALs bivouacked just down the coast. We sound an alarm and cavalry arrives in minutes. I'll show you the other side the island.”
After taking the path behind the house that led through the trees to the west side of the island, the marshals stood overlooking the naval facility. “Radar station is manned by six sailors,” Greg informed them. “They're under orders to stay on this side of the tree line while we're here. Cover story is that there's an admiral vacationing with his wife. As far as anybody knows we're Navy security.
“That big building is the barracks and the one just behind it is an equipment shed. The radio room is the building with the dish tower on top of it. The ramp beside it leads down to the pier. Store boat normally delivers supplies on Thursdays and ferries sailors as necessary. The cigarette racer and the sport-fishing boat are for the brass.”
“How long we here for?” Martinez asked.
“Devlin is set to testify before a congressional committee on organized crime early next week. I doubt we'll be returning here after that. With this guy, if the Justice Department gets nervous, we could be asked to make a move onto a military base without warning.”
“How do you get orders?”
Greg smiled and reached into his pocket. “This is a Palm organizer bought by some civil servant's wife—it can communicate wirelessly through an account in her name. I send encrypted e-mails, our people reply. It's about as immediate as a phone call and absolutely secure. There's not a working phone on our side of the island.”
Martinez said, “Great food, sun, surf, hazardous-duty pay, and an army over my shoulder. They'll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.”
Greg chuckled. “Please don't throw me in de briar patch!”
Back at the safe house, the trio of marshals found Dave Beck sitting at a console watching the monitors hooked to cameras covering the entire western side of the island.
The security room was carpeted, windowless, and large enough for two chairs and a couch. Three of the monitors showed views of the house's exterior doors and porch, the beach, pool, and tennis courts. Three other monitors showed interior views: the hallway outside the security room, and other halls and rooms in the house. The view on each screen changed every five seconds.
“This is a restricted zone we're in. The sailors report any craft in the sky or on the water,” Greg said. He pointed to the panel. “Whenever an outside door is opened, that light flashes. You can zoom and pan the cameras. After dinner, Beck will show you how everything here works.”
“In an emergency, hit this red button and we get help.”
“Once it's triggered, they come to investigate,” Greg said. “A helicopter gunship arrives first, followed by a Blackhawk packed with our SEAL friends. Time to introduce you to our Mr. Devlin,” he added. “If he's receiving.”
Greg tapped on the door to the Devlins' bedroom. “Mr. Devlin, it's Greg,” he called out. “Got some people to introduce.”
“Enter, Inspector,” a male voice replied.
The Devlins were sitting on the bed holding hands. Dylan was wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt; his left ankle
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