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trying to add a little levity.”

“Fun and games are fine, but when something is happening, or about to happen, it’s all business.”

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry.”

“Stay here,” he repeated. “This won’t take long.”

* * *

A short distance away, handcuffed and in the back of a windowless panel van, Dan Miller seethed with fury. His chances of escape had significantly diminished.

He’d been taken from his cell, led into the station foyer, and handed over to a couple of gruff men. He’d been terrified, until one of them said he was being transported back to Southern California to face charges.

Relief had flooded his body.

But shortly after leaving the station, the van drove up a hill.

They weren’t heading to the airport.

He began to worry.

The vehicle slowed, turned down a bumpy road, then abruptly stopped.

He heard the two men leave.

Seconds ticked by.

His anxiety grew…

The only light came from a small window covered by a steel grid between the back of the van and the cab. Making his way to the doors, he searched in the dim light for a way to open them, but hearing approaching voices, he scrambled away.

The doors opened.

He stared in shock.

The two men who had escorted him out of the station stood on either side of Jim Parker, the DEA boss running Elizabeth McKay and Manny Delgado. Gaping at Jim as he was bundled inside, Dan waited until the doors were closed before speaking.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dan muttered.

“So, Dan Miller,” Jim said gruffly. “We finally meet. I’m Jim Parker.”

“I know who you are. I make it my business to keep tabs on the head honchos at the DEA,” Dan exclaimed, “but how do you know me?”

“I keep tabs, as you put it,” Jim grunted with a scowl, “on any cops associated with Conchello.”

“You work for him too?”

“No, the Easter Bunny,” Jim snapped.

“I can’t believe it,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Hey, was it you who tipped him off?”

“About what exactly? I tipped him off about many things.”

“That raid, asshole,” Dan retorted, “what else?”

“Okay, okay! Keep your fucking shirt on and your voice down,” Jim growled angrily.

“Well, was it you?”

“Hell, yeah, it was me.”

“Damn, and I thought I was in deep shit. When we get back you’ll be so far down you’ll choke.”

“I’m not leaving this fucking island,” Jim snarled. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”

“Our best hope is right now, while we’re being transported,” Jim continued, “though having our hands cuffed behind our back will be a serious hindrance.”

“Hah!” Dan spouted, letting out a strange chortle.

“You think that’s funny?”

“Hell, yeah. Get ready to see the impossible.”

Lifting his long arms up behind him, and dramatizing his bizarre talent with a ghoulish expression, he moved them over his head and lowered them in front of his body. Seeing Jim’s face filled with abject horror, Dan couldn’t stop himself laughing out loud.

“That’s… that’s… impossible…” Jim gasped. “How…?”

“It was nothing, I can do all kinds of shit,” Dan declared proudly. “I wanted to be a professional contortionist and escape artist, but it’s impossible to get gigs and the money is crap. You know what else I’m really good at?”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Picking locks, any kind of locks.”

“Handcuffs?”

“No sweat. All I need is a paper clip or a—”

“Can’t you move your bones to get out of them?” Jim demanded, cutting him off.

“Uh, no, Jim,” Dan said patiently as if speaking to a child, “that’s physically impossible for anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter. Pay attention. This is what we’re going to do.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Dan said testily as he lifted his hands to his hair. “I was going to say, give me a paper clip or a bobby pin…”

* * *

Sitting at the kitchen table eating spaghetti covered in meat sauce, Elizabeth tried to stay composed. Though Scott had promised to bring her up to speed, the moment he’d walked in and eyed the plate of pasta on the table, he’d dropped into the chair and proceeded to devour it like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.

“Maybe you should stop for a minute and come up for air,” she finally remarked.

“My body needs the carbs,” he replied between mouthfuls, “and this sauce is great. What did you put in it?”

“Just some chili peppers.”

“Man, it’s good. You can cook for me any time, and I don’t say that to just anyone.”

She laughed. “I’m glad it meets with your approval,” she replied, as he scooped up the last mouthful. “Now will you put me out of my misery? You promised to bring me up to date.”

“Yeah, sorry. Interrogations always make me hungry. Okay, so, Operation Justice—”

“Operation Justice?” she repeated, interrupting him.

“Yeah, that’s what I named it.”

“Oh, my gosh, thank you,” she said gratefully, knowing immediately he’d done it for her.

“It felt right.”

“But wasn’t nabbing Conchello already an active case?”

“Yeah, but I don’t name it as an operation until I’m ready to act on the information. Anyway, Operation Justice is coming to a head. You already know Dan and Jim are on their way back to L.A., and their lives will be nothing but courtrooms and jail cells for years.”

“Yes, and it’s fantastic, but what about David Clark?”

“Brace yourself. David is on our side.”

“Are you sure?” she asked skeptically.

“Jim Parker recruited him for Conchello, but David only went along with it to get as much dirt on them as he possibly could. He put himself at great risk.”

“But how do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“He produced a memory card from his shoe.”

“From his shoe?”

“He’d carved a tiny compartment beneath the inside sole.”

“Incredible…”

“Yeah, so smart. We let him use a laptop and he showed us everything he’s compiled. He has an amazing amount of hard evidence, and he’s secreted away all the money he’s been paid.”

“That’s why Jack was okay about going back to the island with him to scout out the security cameras and booby traps,” Elizabeth murmured. “No wonder you’re ready to pull the trigger.”

“David knows them all, and taking down that encampment won’t be

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