wise gray eyes studied her for several seconds before he continued. “Mr. Drake has special circumstances.” Lucas nodded toward the envelope. “The necessary details are there. To cut to the chase, before forced retirement as a major in military intelligence he was instrumental in numerous high-level missions. It would be pointless to tell you the branch he served since our government continues to deny its existence, it suffices to say that its chief focus is research and development and Major Drake was one of their best-kept secrets.”
Blue listened intently, her heart surging into a brisk pace once more. This sounded like a choice assignment.
“Five years ago Drake volunteered to test their newest prototype.” Lucas drew in a deep breath, then let it go as if taking the time to consider his next words more carefully. “The new technology appeared successful and was used in an operation that brought down a ring of traitors within our own government.
“Unfortunately two things went wrong,” Lucas resumed after a moment’s pause. “There was a serious discrepancy in a piece of crucial evidence and the ring leader, General Regan Bonner, got off with a mere slap on the hand, four years in a minimum-security institution. Club Med, if you get my drift.”
A frown worried Blue’s brow as she waited for the rest. When his pause lengthened, she prompted, “You said two things went wrong.”
Lucas nodded, his expression solemn. “The experimental technology had an adverse effect on Noah Drake’s physical health. He had to give up his career and live like a prisoner in his own home. And that’s where he remains to this day.”
“So Bonner has been released and he represents a threat to Drake?”
“We believe that to be the case. Bonner swore he would have his vengeance on Drake. And since his release six months ago, intel suggests that he has not only behaved suspiciously, but that he has been consorting with known assassins and other anti-American partisans. Then two months ago, Drake started receiving threatening letters.”
Blue unconsciously dragged loose the holder from her ponytail in preparation for that badly needed shower, but her thoughts were on Drake. “Where is Drake now?”
“Are you familiar with St. Gabriel Island?”
She shook her head.
“It’s just off the coast of Georgia,” he explained. “Near Savannah. That’s where you’ll fly into. We’ve chartered a boat to take you to the island. Once there, transportation will be provided.”
Picturing a tropical island, Blue said, “Sounds like a vacation spot.”
“It’s a lovely place, that’s true enough,” Lucas told her as if he had firsthand knowledge. “But it’s small and the locals don’t care much for outsiders. They’ll shun you, probably make you feel completely unwanted. Since you won’t be there to make friends, that won’t really matter. Just don’t expect to be embraced as if you were on a more touristy island.”
“When do I leave?” Adrenaline spiked. She was so ready for this.
“Your flight to Atlanta and then on to Savannah leaves National tomorrow morning. Can you handle that?”
Blue smiled. “I started packing this morning in anticipation of your call.” That still gave her time to pick up the painting.
Though Lucas didn’t smile, she didn’t miss the sparkle of amusement and approval in his eyes. “Very good, Callahan. The other accessories you’ll need will be waiting on St. Gabriel.”
Blue knew what he meant by “other accessories.” When flying commercial it was always best to have the weapons one needed waiting on the other end. It cut down on the hassle and supported anonymity.
“Who’s got my back?” she asked, wondering if it would be someone she had supported before.
Lucas didn’t answer for a moment, just considered her as if trying to decide if she was ready to hear what he had to say. “That’s why I came down here instead of calling you into the office.”
She’d wondered about that, but was so glad to get the assignment she didn’t question the irregularity.
“Edgar Rothman,” Lucas continued, “is a personal friend of Director Casey’s. Rothman feels personally responsible for what happened to Drake since he was the one who created the technology used. He doesn’t want just anyone looking out for Drake. Rothman wants the best. So, I’m sending you. I’ll have your back on this one.”
Blue’s eyes rounded in disbelief. “You’ll be on St. Gabriel?” She’d heard the words clearly enough, it just didn’t seem plausible that she’d heard correctly.
“Don’t worry, Callahan.” Lucas did smile this time. “I might spend most of my time behind a desk, but I know what I’m doing.”
She forced her head into an agreeable up-and-down motion. She didn’t doubt his qualifications or his ability. The idea was just a little unnerving. “Yes, sir.”
Lucas pushed to his feet and reached for his briefcase. “Well, I’ll leave you to carry on, my flight is this afternoon.”
Callahan followed him to the door. “Thanks, Mr. Camp.”
Lucas patted her on the arm the same way her father had done a thousand times. “Don’t worry, Callahan, I don’t bite, and, to the best of my knowledge, neither does Drake. Don’t be afraid to act as you would under any other circumstances. I won’t be there to rate your performance, I’ll be there as the director’s personal representative.”
Callahan didn’t move for a long time after the door closed behind Lucas Camp. Sure it made her a tad uneasy to know that the boss was going to be watching her every step. But as far as being afraid went, she definitely wasn’t.
Blue Callahan wasn’t afraid of anything.
A telling stillness crept through her.
Okay. There was that one itsy-bitsy matter but it didn’t really count. And no one except Ferrelli knew about it.
Her entire life she had been utterly terrified of one thing and one thing only—the dark.
Chapter Two
Unfortunately the stifling humidity she’d encountered the moment she stepped off the plane in Atlanta hadn’t abated as Blue made the boat ride to St. Gabriel Island late that evening. The view, even in the coming twilight, she had to admit, was nothing short of spectacular. She’d have been here hours ago had it not been for baggage-check delays in Atlanta.
As they cut through the water’s sleek surface, she inhaled more deeply of the salty wind caressing her face. It was rich with scents, nothing like the kind she was accustomed to in the big city. Admittedly, there was a vague hint of decaying vegetation and fish, but it wasn’t an overpowering smell, more a dash of aroma one would expect in the vicinity of a sea island.
As the boat slowed near the landing, Blue studied the small island. Near the aging dock, which served as a primitive marina, she could see what looked like a small commercial district. Very small, she decided on second look and commercial applied only in the most obscure sense of the word. Towering trees dripping Spanish moss from
