Shades of Gray by Kay Hooper Page A

was still bothered by the possibility of interception. Chances were good, of course, that Lucio wouldn’t have understood the message even if he managed to decode it. But if he
did
understand …
    Hagen, Siran reflected, had made a bad mistake this time. The situation could be defused if he’d only tell certain people things in order to placate them—but Hagen was notoriously unable to be open and aboveboard about
anything
.
    Siran didn’t like any of it. But there was nothing he could do about the situation, and he had his orders. So, along with his intentions of leaving, he added a brief message to Sereno: “From Hagen via radio this morning: Please be advised Long and company very distressed over disappearance of Miss Marsh. Their intentions unclear at this point. Past actions demonstrate they may take the matter into their own hands. Yacht
Corsair
projected to be in your area.”
    Siran went out on deck and beckoned to anearby lieutenant. “Can one of your men take this note to President Sereno?”
    The burly man nodded agreement. “Teo has been our messenger since the president forbade radio contact; I have a message to send as well. Leaving, Captain?”
    “On the tide.”
    “Good fortune.”
    Siran nodded. “Thanks. And to you.” He watched the soldier stride toward a group of men near the warehouses, continued to watch as a younger soldier climbed into a battered jeep and drove away. Then, sighing a little, Siran turned back to his preparation to cast off.
    Thinking of the lieutenant’s good wishes, he muttered, “May fortune favor the foolish.” But nobody heard him.
    Colonel Durant was frowning a bit as he handed the slip of paper back to his president. “Long? I didn’t realize he knew Sara. It was the other one he knew, the woman who looked so like her.”
    Andres shook his head. “I shall have to ask Sara, but I believe Long and his friends became interested in Sara’s well-being after Rafferty and his wife visited here. Of course they’d be concerned when she vanished, particularly if they know or suspect that she was brought here against her will.”
    “Nevertheless,” Durant said, “what could they hope to do? Impossible to reach the island without our knowing—”
    “They did once before,” Andres murmured.
    The colonel was silenced but only briefly. “Under cover of a storm. And Long himself didn’t risk coming to the island.”
    “The Final Legion was here then. It isn’t now.”
    Durant’s frown deepened. “But the revolution exists; he would be in danger, and men of his wealth are cautious.”
    Sereno smiled just a little. “Vincente, in an hour or so Joshua Long could raise his own army—by comparison to which both mine and Lucio’s would be pathetic.”
    “He wouldn’t. International law—”
    “International law aside, no, he wouldn’t. Buthe could, if he chose. And a man such as he could, I imagine, find his way to Kadeira in caution and relative safety.”
    Accepting that, Durant asked, “We expect him, then?”
    “We won’t be surprised if he arrives.”
    Durant studied his old friend in silence for a moment. This new threat to the island was worrisome enough; Vincente was concerned over Sereno himself. The president seemed very tired, drained emotionally rather than physically. He had said nothing when Sara had failed to appear at breakfast, but his eyes had strayed often to the place that had been set for her.
    The colonel had seen Sara slipping out into the garden a few minutes ago, and she had looked as drained and haunted as Andres did. Clearly there had been a confrontation of some kind between them, and just as clearly, it had resolved nothing. And Vincente was worried because if they both showed such strain after less than twenty-four hours …
    “I need to ask Sara about Long and hisfriends.” Andres’s voice was slow, almost reluctant.
    Durant understood the hesitation, and it didn’t surprise him only because he, more than any other, knew just