Syd wanted to apologize. After all, it had been her idea to take the cruise, her father who'd booked the suite. An apology over the phone would be insufficient, so she didn't even try. When she had her arms around Jenner's neck, when she knew without a doubt that this escapade was over, then she'd apologize.
"The food is good," Jenner said.
Syd sighed. "I'm jealous. Right now I'd kill for a decent cheeseburger and some good fries. The room service restaurant here serves great salads and grilled shrimp, but their cheeseburgers are truly subpar, and the fries are soggy. I should be eating the salads and grilled shrimp, but with the stress of this whole situation I'm feeling the need for something more substantial. You know, comfort food."
"I have to go," Jenner said briskly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. And when I get there we'll gorge ourselves on cheeseburgers!" The connection ended.
Syd stared at the cell phone for a moment, then childishly stuck out her tongue. She was accustomed to their conversations ending abruptly, as whatever cretin who was holding Jenner insisted that she hang up, but that didn't mean she had to like it. The tongue was for him, not Jenner. She'd heard his voice a time or two, in the background. He sounded like a jerk.
But Jenner sounded like Jenner again, so maybe he wasn't all bad. Not that Syd didn't want to kick his ass. Well, she'd hire someone to kick his ass. No one would ever be afraid of her, but she could certainly hire scary people, and when this was over she intended to make a point to find some. She would not go through this again.
Maybe her kidnappers could help. Syd knew her captors much better than she had a week ago. Spend enough time with a person - or people - and it happened. Dori looked scary, she had a terrifying scowl and a hard demeanor when it suited her, but if you caught her off guard she had a very nice smile. She laughed at the silliest things on television. She'd probably be thrilled to find a Three Stooges marathon playing when she pulled the night shift. Not that Syd cared to cross her, but still, she wasn't nearly as frightening as she'd been that first day.
Strong, usually silent Adam was obviously sweet on Kim, and from what Syd had been able to tell, Kim didn't have a clue, though when it came to other matters she didn't miss much. Kim, knives and all, was so like Syd's other friends, in personality, it was sometimes difficult to mentally keep her in the role of kidnapper. Dress her up and take away her knives, and she might be a perfectly ordinary pretty woman.
She thought about escape often, daydreamed about it in her recent hours of boredom. But even knowing that her captors were more than the thugs she'd initially thought them to be, she realized there was no way to escape. Maybe they wouldn't kill her - maybe - but they would definitely stop her. If she simply ran, they'd catch her. If she tried to latch onto one of the service people, a maid or a room service delivery guy, she'd only be putting the innocent hotel employees in danger - not that her diligent bodyguards ever let her get all that close to anyone other than the three of them. In her fantasies she was as tough as Dori, as skilled with knives as Kim, as physically strong as Adam. In her fantasies, she would sneak up on them and knock all three out with a series of skilled karate chops, and then she'd be free.
But those were only fantasies. She didn't know anything about karate other than what she'd seen in the movies. If she tried to run she'd get caught, and then she'd end up in a basement somewhere, thrilled at the very prospect of room service. If she was lucky.
And who was she kidding? She wasn't the ass-kicking type, by any fashion.
Syd found a movie on television - she'd seen it before but it wasn't horrible - worked most of the crossword puzzle in the USA Today, and when neither appealed to her any longer she retired to her bedroom and took a nap. When she woke up close to six o'clock, she heard the front door to the suite close. It was probably room service. Again. More grilled chicken or quesadillas, most likely. She washed her face, combed her hair, and entered the parlor, determined to eat a bit even if she had to choke it down. Adam stood by the dining table, with a couple of large white paper bags in his hand. "Cheeseburgers and fries," he said simply. "I asked the concierge, and he said this place made the best burgers in town."
He'd overheard her phone conversation, and gotten a cheeseburger for her.
Dori, who'd been kicked back on the couch watching something on TV, jumped up. "I'll get some sodas from the machine. Diet or regular?" she asked, nodding toward Syd.
"Diet, please." And at that moment, she hated her captors a little bit less.
IT WAS A RELIEF to Cael when the Silver Mist pulled away from Maui. When they were at sea all six members of his team - if she could read his mind Jenner would say seven, but thank God she hadn't figured out how to do that yet - could be used at all times. No more taking turns going ashore, watching and waiting for Larkin to decide without warning to take off to a beach or volcano somewhere. He hadn't done that, but they'd always had to be prepared in case he did.
Jenner was in the bed; not sleeping, he could tell, but headed in that direction. Maybe he wouldn't wake her when he went to bed himself. Yeah, right. He was going to stop breathing, too.
He was up later than usual tonight because Larkin seemed restless, jumpy. What would make a man who'd calmly hand over EMP technology to the North Koreans, stopping to buy jam along the way, jumpy? The possibilities were not good.
Not for the first time, Cael wondered about the aspirin Larkin took so often, the constant hand to his head, as if he had a persistent headache. Obviously he wasn't well. How sick was he?
It was just past two in the morning when Larkin abruptly jumped up like he'd been shot out of the chair and headed for the door. He was alone. No Mills, no bodyguard at all. Maybe this was it; the meeting they'd been waiting for. Was it possible that the man on the other end of this deal had been onboard all along? Or that there was another buyer, another memory stick?