Hardbingers

7

Portman rose and asked if anyone wanted more coffee.

Cal, simultaneously tired and wired from all the caffeine he'd already poured down his gullet, shook his head. He watched Portman's lurching retreat across the tilting deck.

They'd made it to Hyannis in time for the first ferry and had commandeered a corner of the main cabin. No one protested. Not enough passengers aboard to care.

Not enough yeniceri to matter.

Their ranks had been thinned to an even dozen. They'd needed only four vehicles—the Suburban, the Humvee, and two SUVs—to transport them and the new Oculus. The cars sat below in the ship's huge drive-in/ drive-out bay.

Uneasiness wound through his gut. They'd abandoned Home too quickly to allow for a meticulous sweep. He was sure they'd left things behind. He just hoped whatever it was didn't point to the safe house.

Diana sat next to him, her black eyes hidden behind dark glasses and her arm hooked through his as she stared out the window at the rolling, wind-whipped swells. She seemed calm on the outside, but that was probably shock. She had to feel lost without her father and terrified of the responsibility his death had thrust upon her.

She turned her pale face to him. "I don't feel good."

"You're a little seasick. Don't worry. We'll be in the harbor soon."

From there it would be a trip to a narrow strip of land on the eastern edge of the island. The house there had water on both sides and nothing behind it except a lighthouse. A pair of sandy ruts offered the only access. Whoever approached them would have to come in slow or break an axle.

"For now, the best thing is to keep your eyes on the horizon—what you can see of it."

She turned back to the window.

He patted the back of her hand. "You'll be safe soon. And you'll stay safe. I promise."

He prayed it was a promise he'd be able to keep.