CHAPTER 16

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TAHITI

Takeshi Ishikawa glared at the full shape of the sun without the aid of sunglasses. It was about to drop behind the western fringes of the Pacific Ocean. It amazed him how fast the final moments of its dominion slipped away after controlling the skies for the course of a day. The celestial body gave up its rule in a matter of seconds once it closed within a hair's width of the horizon.

At this stage, the sun had lost most of its power.

Ishikawa watched as it reduced to a half circle, then a sliver of light, and finally it disappeared. A dull glow remained... twilight. A short time after that and night embraced French Polynesia, allowing an abundance of brilliant stars to twinkle.

He'd given his real name to everyone during the operation. Ishikawa didn't hide his true identity. He wanted his enemies to fear him and face the full fury of his samurai heritage. In his native tongue, his name meant fierce and violent warrior, something he prided himself in. He was not ashamed of it, and he was not afraid of anyone. Yet he knew any knowledge of his involvement in these horrid affairs would die along with the victims of today's most splendid tragedy. Despite his own mode of operation, he could leave no links behind for the sake of the mission.

Ishikawa had piloted the fishing trawler westward, far from where he left the three unfortunate souls to die. He was sure the deckhand was dead. He witnessed the massive fish take him away. And although he didn't see the end of the Sea Lab pair, he remembered noting the dorsal fins circling the blood-soaked depths around them. With no land or anyone to help them for miles, he knew with an absolute certainty they died as well.

He spent the rest of the day studying their laptop computer. As he suspected, they had gathered a boatload of information relating to the offshore coral reef. That brought a smile to his face because, in all their data collection, they had discovered nothing. He knew there was only one way they could have found anything useful. A slim chance, one they could have stumbled upon by luck, but he was not about to let that happen.

Ishikawa would turn over the Mac notebook and their findings to his employer for further inspection. No matter what level of threat they presented to the cause, his superior had ordered him to dispose of them... and so he did.

In retrospect of the day's events, his confidence in the mission's success soared.

As he closed the laptop, Ishikawa wondered how his team in The Bahamas was coming along with their assignment. His most recent update, they reported killing one member of the Sea Lab team but failed to dispose of the other. Two anonymous men had aided the female. The miscue caused a flash of anger to simmer within him. Sometimes if you wanted a job done right, you had to do it yourself, but he couldn't be in two places at once. He knew his men were closing in on them, and he would soon learn of the outcome.

A muffled electronic chime interrupted his reflection. It came from a duffel bag at his feet.

He reached into the sack and found a cell phone chirping with a bright display. It was one of those expensive models, an iPhone. In dark letters, it revealed what appeared to be someone's last name... O'Donnell.

After many rings, the sound stopped. The screen showed four missed calls, all from this O'Donnell individual. That was strange. He didn't remember hearing the phone ring three other times. Maybe the gurgling racket of the trawler's engine was the reason he'd missed the calls.

The iPhone chimed once more.

It was a different tone this time. A voice message. Ishikawa connected a special decoding device to the phone and waited as it deciphered the pass code. Then he pressed the touch screen with the tip of his finger, found the voice mail and held the phone to his ear for the first message.

Whoever this O'Donnell person was, he or she had called four times and left a message three times. Must be important.

"Kevin, this is Cat," a woman's voice said. "I'm about to catch my flight to Hawaii. I called earlier and couldn't get a hold of you and Rachel. Dinner was fun the other night. You two make a great team. You may be on a dive right now, but call me back as soon as you can. Once I'm in the air, I'll be able to run a background check on the Japanese guy you hired to take you out on the water. Text me his name. Oh... they just called my flight number. Talk to you later. Bye."

So in passing, they had mentioned him to this woman, but hadn't given her his name. With the Sea Lab employees dead, no one could identify him as the person involved in the crimes, except for one individual that came to mind. He would deal with him once he pushed ashore.

Ishikawa played the second message.

"Kevin, this is Cat again. During my flight to Hawaii, I didn't hear from you. I'm 30,000 feet over the Pacific on my way to L.A.X. I have to admit, I'm concerned. It's not like you not to return my calls. Call me back as soon as you can, please. Bye."

Ishikawa knew she wouldn't connect with Kevin Green and Rachel Wilde ever again. He started the last message.

"Kevin, I know it's almost eight o'clock in Tahiti and my flight to Orlando is about to take off. We're sitting on the runway as I speak. I know your work for the day should be over by now. If I don't hear from you soon, I'll have to contact the director and let him know you two have dropped off the map, eloped, or something. I may be overreacting, but please, call me. You're worrying me. I'd hate to contact Tahitian authorities and have them find you two laid up on the beach basking in the sun. I'm waiting to hear from you. Bye."

Ishikawa thought it might be possible to find them sunbathing on the beach... what was left of them. He dropped the phone into the duffel bag, followed by the laptop, and zipped it up. Without further delay, he went into the wheelhouse and started the trawler's engine. He engaged the throttle and set a course for the island. An hour later, he docked the boat at the marina.

He waited onboard for the local fisherman who owned the vessel to arrive. It was the same man he used to point Green and Wilde in his direction. He'd taken his time with the assignment, taking the Sea Lab pair out for three straight days before killing them. He wanted to see if they'd find anything noteworthy, although it had been difficult acting like a bumbling idiot the whole time.

Headlights flared in the distance. A few minutes later, the weary sailor came walking down the wooden planks. In beige pants and shirt, he removed a straw hat to reveal an almost bald hairline. He made eye contact with Ishikawa and greeted him before stepping aboard.

After a thorough inspection of the craft, the man joined Ishikawa on the port side of the boat. "It appears you take good care of trawler. But I am curious. Where is my deckhand?"

"Greenhorn couldn't wait to step foot on dry land. He took off as soon as we docked."

"He is young and lacks experience, but the lad is hard worker."

"How much I owe you?"

The Tahitian didn't see the pistol, now equipped with a silencer, that Ishikawa gripped in his right hand. The man made a fatal mistake by trusting him. They stood side by side, talking, but with seasoned discreetness, Ishikawa stepped back and caught the old man gazing at the sky.

He pressed the barrel between the man's shoulder blades and squeezed the trigger. The owner's eyes widened and faded. The shot was no louder than a hammer hitting a pillow. The bullet ripped through his back and exited his chest, zipping past another docked vessel, missing it. Ishikawa held the man up to steady his tumble and then let his body pitch forward over the edge of the boat. The splash was louder than the shot.

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