Emerald Fire. Monica McCabe

the moment you need to fire the engines and prepare to sail. If all goes well, I’ll be right behind you.”

      Jonathan stared at Finn, as though weighing the odds of success. In reality, it was the only option available to pull this off. Torching this den of thieves didn’t guarantee success, but it did give them a slight edge, and they needed every possible advantage.

      “Okay,” Jonathan finally agreed. “Chloe and I will disable as many of the boats along the way as we can. Less available for them to chase us with.”

      “Good,” Finn said. “Just don’t take too long to get to the Fire. And whatever you do, don’t get caught.”

      “What about you?” Chloe sounded worried. “What happens if you get caught?”

      “I’ll handle it.” He turned toward Jonathan. “Do not, under any circumstances, let her do anything rash. That includes coming after me if the unthinkable happens. Just get her out of here. Got it?”

      Jonathan frowned, but then his expression hardened. Like one soldier to another, he nodded his agreement. “I’ll get her to safety. But do me a favor and stay under the radar. She won’t be easy to persuade.”

      “Why do you two talk like I’m not standing right here and can’t hear every word?” Chloe whispered harshly.

      “Because,” Finn said quietly, “I can’t leave you without knowing someone has your back. It’s not negotiable, and we don’t have time to argue.” Hopefully that little revelation would slow her down enough to see her safely through this insane plan.

      The trio fell silent. Distant shouts and the mechanical clang of equipment drifted through the trees, and Finn used the sound to center himself, to prepare for a small dose of guerilla warfare.

      He handed his duffle bag to Jonathan, then hit the back glow on his watch. “Ten o’clock.” He glanced back at the compound before continuing. “Your best bet is to stick with the tree line all the way to the water. Move fast, but quiet, and stay alert.”

      “We’ll do our part,” Jonathan said. “You just focus on what you have to do, and do it big. We’ll meet you at the ship.”

      Chloe stepped up in front of him and stared him straight in the eyes. He waited for her to say something, but instead she shocked him near senseless as she lifted onto her toes and kissed him square on the lips.

      “Please be careful,” she whispered.

      * * * *

      Chloe regretted it instantly. What was she thinking? Kissing him was impulsive, and she should’ve known better than to distract him right before he had to ignite a Fourth of July fireworks show. But he was so somber and serious. The thought of throwing him for a loop was strangely appealing. Too bad her timing sucked lemons. That man had the unnerving power to crush her better sense. She stared until he disappeared from sight.

      “You’ve got a thing for the bounty hunter?”

      Even at a whisper, her Uncle Jonathan’s voice sounded surprised. She didn’t blame him. Her quest for the emeralds consumed her every waking hour, and that focus rarely strayed. Needless to say, she didn’t date much. Now and then she’d meet a guy she liked enough to stick with for a time, but it never lasted long before they’d start complaining about her lack of attention.

      Finnegan Kane, she couldn’t explain. It was an attraction that made no sense. She just met the guy, he rarely smiled, and his old-school alpha male attitude was annoying. She’d be better off ignoring his allure instead of kissing him.

      “He’s…interesting.”

      “Is that so?”

      She didn’t want to talk about Finn right now. They needed to focus on not being discovered by pirates.

      “Where did you meet him?”

      “Port Authority’s office in St. Lucia.”

      Her uncle used the binoculars Finn had left and scanned the grounds. He pointed to the left, and they started moving, keeping inside the tree line as Finn suggested. It made the going a little slower, but lessened the likelihood of being spotted as they made their way around toward the water. She refused to think of all the things that could go wrong because failure wasn’t an option. They simply had to succeed.

      Chloe dodged a palm leaf and came to a sudden halt right behind her uncle. He quickly crouched down, and she followed suit.

      A lone man stood fifty or so feet away. He was smoking, the red tip of the cigarette glowing in the dark as he puffed. He hadn’t heard them as he stared intently toward a small shed behind the big metal warehouse. She followed his line of sight. Through the dark, she could see a vague figure moving through a pile of derelict equipment and knew with certainty it was Finn.

      The pirate had spotted him, too.

      Alarm began to race through her bloodstream, along with a spike of adrenaline as the guy reached for a radio on his belt. Uncle Jon dropped the duffle bags, sprinted forward, and in one lithe jump, tackled the pirate. They rolled until her uncle landed on top, then a meaty thud sounded as her uncle’s fist collided with the other man’s jaw. The impact knocked him out cold.

      Chloe jumped into action and snatched the radio. Silence. The guy hadn’t made contact. She breathed a sigh of relief.

      “Hellfire, that hurt.” Jonathan shook out his hand. “I think I broke something.”

      Chloe shot a quick look around to assure they hadn’t been discovered. All appeared quiet, but what were they going to do with this guy now? He was a liability they couldn’t afford.

      Her uncle answered the question. “Help me drag him into the woods.” Together they pulled the unconscious man deeper into the shadowy forest.

      “There’s duct tape in Finn’s bag,” her uncle said as he began patting down the guy’s pockets. First he found a gun, then a wicked-looking knife. A pack of cigarettes he tossed into the woods, but he pocketed the lighter.

      Chloe fought against the sense of dread those weapons induced and grabbed the tape, pulled a strip, and ripped it with her teeth before slapping it over the guy’s mouth.

      Together they finished trussing him up, taping his arms to his body and wrapping his ankles and knees. She grabbed handfuls of broken branches and forest debris, piling it over top of him, then sent up a quick prayer, begging God’s help to keep the guy out cold for a good long while.

      They’d lost valuable time. She kept the radio, her uncle the pistol and knife, and they took off, moving faster now and aiming straight for the water. The going was rough. Foliage as thick and tangled as the Amazon jungle stretched all the way to the brackish shore. There was only a thin stretch of sandy beach, and they sprinted down the length before stopping just shy of the clearing.

      So far so good. No alarms had sounded and all remained quiet. Uncle Jon broke out the binoculars again, studying their next move. With a flip of his hand, he signaled to move, and she followed. The going was easier, but it came with a price. They were running in the open, their black clothing the only cover until they reached a small shed on the outskirts. From there, progress went in short sprints, from the shed to a pile of broken and rusted equipment, to an old boat, until the pier loomed close in front of them.

      “Where is everybody? In the dry dock?” she whispered. It looked all the world like they could just stroll down the pier undetected. It was long with a hard right at the end, like an upside down L. Five boats were moored, all of various sizes. The Emerald Fire was the crown jewel of the ill-gotten contraband. She floated proudly at the end of the pier, moonlight reflecting off her sleek lines and graceful hull.

      An unsettling wave of apprehension filled Chloe. Guttural shouts from the men in the warehouse sounded callous and mean. They didn’t sound like men who’d take the stealing of their property lying down. The fact that they stole it first wouldn’t matter. This would be a doozy of a fight.

      She scanned