"This is gorgeous." Paula was goggle-eyed at the bay as they drifted to a perfect halt in front of Dolittle's Restaurant Bar.

"It's called Dolittle's because this where they shot the original movie, Dr. Dolittle. Not the whole thing, but the bit with the big pink snail. There are photographs inside." Kirk moored the boat and assisted her off. He turned to Chase and they exchanged some words and an envelope. With a slap on the shoulder, Chase waved him goodbye and steered Paula further down the walk to where another small water taxi was docked.

"Is that the end of Captain Kirk?" She asked, watching him head inside the bar.

"As far as we're concerned." Chase helped her onto the boat and found them both a seat.

"Why are we going back?"

"To get to the place we'll be staying at. He wanted to see his girl, and stopping there first was easier for him."

"Is this the romantic side of Dane Chase we seldom see?" She looked away, smiling, and watched the quick trip across the bay to the south side.

******

"I found a couple of locals that knew his face. Said they'd seen him in town occasionally. But it ended there." Fitz flopped into a chair and stretched out his legs. "You get anything?"

"Another call from Doc. He's less than thrilled with our progress, but he's been busy himself with all is contacts - he gave me a lead."

"What lead? Christ, I've been wearin' out my shoes all day sloggin' around this town and he calls with a lead."

"Apparently there's been a guy at the airport for the past two years, every time Air Canada flights arrived. He hung around until everyone debarked, then left. Suddenly he stopped showing up. Guess when."

Fitz sat up. "When the broad arrived!"

"Full marks, Jonesy, and we have a name. Joseph Laforce."

******

The accommodations left her gobsmacked, and Paula could do nothing but wander around, staring. "How do you know about all these places?"

"Same as I knew about those hotels we stayed in back then. Research. It's very important in my business."

"But these places must cost you a fortune."

"Not your concern. What we need to do now, is find out where our other two friends are."

Paula stopped her gawking tour and sat on a feather cushioned divan, with an appreciative groan. "How? I mean, how would we do that from here?"

"The only trail we've left is a water taxi to Marigot Bay. It ends there - maybe the boat ride, but after that, nothing. The owners picked us up on the road, delivered us here and we won't see them again unless we contact them."

"But we have no transportation."

"We can get it if we need it. Meanwhile," he dumped out several phones from his pack, "we can hunt with these. Burners."

"Why so many?"

"Because even these can be traced. Short calls, then destroy the card. That's about as safe as they can get."

She picked one up and looked at it. "On TV they always say, we can't trace it, it was a burner."

"This isn't TV, Paula. Trust me. Short bursts and destroy the card - even the phone along with it." He gathered them up and put them on a small table beside his chair. "Doc has his government connections, which means he has access to a tool called Stingray which is essentially a small, temporary cell tower that inserts itself as a bottleneck between mobile phones and their networks. Face to face, covertly whispering in each other's ear, is probably the only really safe communication."

"That's despicable." She crossed her legs in a huff.

"Well, it can also serve to protect us when used legitimately. Anyway, that's why I have all these. Two of my best sources share codes for certain messages, so I am only online for a few seconds with them."

"This is too bizarre. When does it all end?"

"When Doc arrives - or we go back and face him there."

******

Paula sat on the small balcony, surrounded by jungle, and gazing at the impossibly blue water of the Caribbean. Their place was called the Tree House, and it certainly gave that impression. Everything about it was designed to be 'green'. She had spent a good hour being amazed at the ingenuity and dedication to the environment. Wooden sinks, handcrafted with some parts of driftwood. The rugs were from old cruise ship mooring ropes.

On the terrace below the unit there were fish pools, designed to prevent mosquitoes breeding as the fish would eat any mosquito larvae, drastically reducing their population. When Chase pointed out that the water was double filtered rain water that had been collected in tanks, then piped into the unit, she just flapped her arms and shook her head.

They ate on the balcony, relaxed, enjoyed the sunset and finally retired in the king-sized bed . . . together. It was here, for the first time, she examined her feelings and how she might be prepared to face them. All thoughts of the danger they were facing seemed to diminish as her heart took centre stage, and she felt herself rationalizing its signals.

The jungle sounds chimed her awake, so many different bird calls and insect squeaks, no alarm clock could compete. She sat up to an empty bed.

"I never hear you get up," she said, padding barefoot into the quaint kitchen.

"I made coffee, and there's fruit in the icebox." He was removing a card from one of the many phones and snapping it in half.
"Have you been speaking to your sources?" she asked, pouring a large mug of the coffee.

"I may have to leave you here for a bit. Things have escalated into territory I won't tolerate."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Joseph had a visit. I don't know how they found him, but they did - and things didn't go well."

The mug banged on the counter. "What do you mean leave me here?" His statement that he was going to be gone for a while drew her ire. "What if something happens, what am I supposed to do? How would I get in touch with you?"

"This is one of those times you do as you're told without argument, Paula." He broke the phone apart and stuffed the bits in his pack.

"Oh, no. No way, Mr. Chase. You aren't giving me orders any more."

"I don't know how long I'll be, so tying you up again is not an option. You'll just have to accept that I am going and you are not."

The cold threat made her shiver, and she recalled when they first met, he showed the same dangerous demeanour. His eyes never left hers and she was finally forced to look away.

Watching him pack a few items, her throat caught when he checked a gun and stuck it in his belt at the back. He picked up his stuff, took her arm and led her into the living room.

"I'm leaving you one phone. Do not under any circumstances use it unless your life is threatened, and then call the owners here. I will be in touch once I've seen the situation. The call will be very brief, and you will ask no questions. And you will take the card out afterwards."

"But then what? How--"

"After six hours put it back in. I'll call again." He suddenly kissed her and left. "You'll be fine here," was the last she heard.