Zeke called the other vehicle on his walkie. “They’re here; look alive.”

They turned left where the Suburban had turned right, to go down to where their boat waited. They parked, schlepped their cases with various supplies and ordnance onto the boat, and loaded up.

Vinny stayed on shore to do some surveillance of everyone’s vehicles and residences. He had hinted he might try for something more than that; maybe sneakiness ran in the Nguyen family. Maybe Vinny was a younger version of Spooky in the techno-urban jungle.

Skull piloted the boat like a pro, taking them out about a mile then slowing down. They loafed along like lubbers out for a pleasure cruise. It was chilly but sunny and they bundled up and broke out the coffee thermoses, doughnuts and binoculars.

Pretty soon a nice thirty-six-footer came out of the marina and angled off to the north fast, toward Watt’s Island, which could barely be seen about seven miles off. They crossed to windward of Zeke and the others doing twenty knots, going northwest, and by this time Skull had them on a parallel course at ten or so. They didn’t want to look too eager.

They watched the other boat all the way in to Watt’s Island, a tiny patch of scrubby pines and rocks with the all-steel buildings showing quite clearly. The highest tree on the island didn’t stand more than twenty feet tall. The complex was on the southeast corner, and everything looked just like it had on the satellite imagery. They could see the white Jeep parked at the pier, with someone standing next to it, smoking.

They tooled along, not too near, not too far, and observed  as the cruiser pulled up to the dock next to the boathouse. Three people got out onto the pier, then into the Jeep, which drove the hundred yards or so to the tiny empty parking lot. The boat pulled away and headed back for Onancock.

By this time the team was looking at the south side, and then the back of the complex as they rounded the island. There were no windows in the big building, but there were two in the small one facing south. They could see the helo pad, which was empty except for a short pole and a wind sock standing stiffly in the north-by-northwest breeze.

“All right, that’s enough. We don’t want to get made. Head for Tangier Island,” Zeke ordered.

Skull turned the wheel and ran the throttles up to comfortable cruising speed. Less than half an hour later they came into Mailboat Harbor and docked at the marina at the north end of the island. Slightly less conspicuous than usual in a New York Yankees cap, he paid the docking fee and got the boat topped off with fuel. He could still frighten children with a look.

They wandered around the tiny island, splitting up to act like they were interested in the little shops, museums and restaurants along Main Ridge Road. The whole piece of land they stood on was barely a square mile, the southwest-most of three sub-islands that were all that remained of historic Tangier Island. It used to be much bigger, just like Watts Island, but rising ocean levels and erosion were slowly washing it away. In a couple of hundred years it would probably be completely gone.

They met up for an early lunch at a seafood place overlooking the water, within sight of a dozen fishing boats trying to eke out a living in the Chesapeake and the coastal Atlantic nearby. It was hard to hide, because the tourist season hadn’t started yet, and it was mostly locals. At the same time, that made it easier for them to spot anyone out of the ordinary, and none of the team reported seeing anyone that looked like they were watching. That was good news.

They headed back as soon as they were done, just a bunch of guys on an outing. Watts island looked the same on the way back, though they went around to the north of it this time. It was about noon, and not a creature stirred except for the sea birds.

They met back at the motel, and went inside Vinny and Tran’s room. Larry had been complaining because of the crowding in the Land Rover, so he was first out of the vehicle. He was a big guy.

On the other hand, Zeke was getting smaller. He didn’t seem as hungry as Daniel had been, but he was still eating more than normal and he kept grabbing the roll of his gut and shaking it, with a big pleased look on his face. “My pants are getting looser. Hot dog, this stuff is a weight-loss miracle too. It must boost the metabolism like crazy. I feel awesome!”

Daniel looked at him soberly. “Every high has its low, and every benefit has a cost. We just don’t know what this is yet.”

“You won’t just let me enjoy it, will you?” He laughed again.

“All right, enjoy it while you can. I’m a pessimist by nature, I guess.” Daniel had lived with that serpent too long, though he hadn’t seen it in a while. Maybe I never will again.

Vinny dragged the round motel table into the spot between the two beds, so they could sit on chairs and bedsides and all see. He had a row of portable computer stuff on a folding table on the other side of the room, and he’d printed out hardcopy photos. “Pictures of everyone’s apartments. Nothing much to see. They are either not home or staying indoors. If they take the two scientists back off the island this evening, then we can expect just Elise and one or two minders when we go in for the snatch.”

“What if some don’t leave the island? Or what if different ones come off? What if they rotate some overnight?” asked Skull.

“Does it matter?” Zeke asked. “Once we see, we’ll know something. We’ll go in with all five of us. Sorry Vinny. Wrong skill set.”

He shrugged. “No problem, man. Until I get some superhero powers too, I’d rather stay away from bullets, thank you very much.”

Spooky glared. Vinny shrugged again.

Zeke went on, “Okay, general plan. Skull will drive the boat and provide overwatch, secure our line of retreat. We’ll pull in here, into this channel, and disembark behind these scrubby trees. Spooky will take point. Then me and DJ, with Larry and Skull watching our backs. We’ll move in quiet. Here’s the objective rally point, where you post, Skull.” He pointed at a spot just inside the tree line, about fifty yards from the buildings. “Spooky, you’ll do the forward look and report back to us there. If we can’t pinpoint everyone, or anyone, we’ll enter, search and clear the buildings.

“We will try to stay quiet as long as we can. Once it’s time to enter the main building, DJ and I will breach and go in heavy. Presumably we can take more hits than you guys now, with the XH in us. Our objective is this woman, Elise Wallis.” He held up the picture. “Use your best discretion when engaging armed resistance.” He looked across the table at Daniel. “DJ, I know you want to keep this clean but I’m not going to tell people to add risk to the op just because you want to avoid hurting anyone.”

“Avoid killing anyone, you mean. Hurt them all you want; it will give me something to do,” Daniel said sardonically.

Zeke chuckled. “Either way, I hope we get in quiet, they surrender in their beds, we zip-cuff them, then get outta Dodge with our answer girl. That’s the overview. Larry, what we got?”

“I got flash-bangs for everyone, some boom-boom for me, and all sorta body armor, and a lot of other miscellaneous gear. Since we’re only moving a quarter mile or so, I suggest you carry all you want.”

Spooky snorted.

“Ev’body ‘cept you, I guess,” Larry said.

“Cannot be quiet in body armor,” replied the Vietnamese. “I will take the chance. You got NVGs?”

Larry nodded. “Yeah, I got goggles for you and anyone that wants ‘em.”

Daniel shook his head. Night vision gear was fine for certain circumstances but as soon as any shooting started or someone turned on a light, they were useless. They would be useful for Spooky for the first look-around, and for Skull on overwatch, maybe.

“Okay,” said Zeke, “Any immediate concerns?”