"No arguments, Wylie. Call this number and tell them everything. Finding Tate. The body in the car, and what I'm doing."

"If he's on the island why not just wait for a team? Where can he go?"

"Wylie, he's not stupid enough to trap himself. He won't get off at the island, he'll mingle with the return crowd and sneak back here; it's just an evasion manoeuvre."

"Then wait for him here."

"No. On the boat I can isolate him. If he gets ashore here in a crowd, who knows what might happen. We can't lose him again."

"Fine. I'll report to your people."

The pout was so charmingly irresistible, Matt felt his heart skip. "You keep an eye on the ferry when it comes back - just in case."

"The pout turned to a warning glare. "You'd better come back, Matthew Constable, and not just in case."

He took off at a gallop, unhappy to see the ferry part way across the inlet already. A couple about to get into a water taxi were surprised to have sudden company for their trip, as Matt jumped into the boat, explaining it was an emergency. The taxi beat the ferry to the island, and he paid for the ride, thanking the couple, and then lined up with the returning ferry passengers.

He scanned the departing passengers; confident he didn't miss his quarry, and then shuffled aboard with the rest. The ferry was crowded and Matt went to the upper deck first, moving slowly around the rail, searching the people below. He made two circuits, then went to the lower deck and began again.

As he approached the stern he caught sight of a figure moving quickly through the crowd to the stairs, and he picked up his own pace, apologizing a few times as he pushed through the mass of people. Reaching the stairs he saw the figure duck toward the stairs to the bridge, and he gave chase.

Matt stopped at the top, a few feet from the entrance to the tiny bridge cabin. Arthur was behind the skipper, his gun aimed straight at the man's head.

"I saw you looking for me, Connie. I kind of expected you."

"Arthur, there's no way out of this. Come out and let's save everyone a lot of grief."

"You know what they do to traitors, Connie, I don't think I'll take that route."

"There is no other route, Arthur. This man has nothing to do with any of our business. Why add some innocent person to your troubles?"

"Maybe I should change him for you."

"I'll accept that. Come out and let him do his job. There's a lot of people depending on him to sail them to safety."

"I know your game, Connie. You get me one on one, and you think you'll win."

"You've got the gun, Arthur. Let the captain do his job and you and I get out of his way. We'll be docking shortly, and there's no escape for you. A team will board and you won't have a chance. Come out and let's save all that."

To Matt's surprise, Arthur said something to the captain and then came out of the bridge. He backed away, hands in sight as Arthur gestured him toward the stern. They stopped part way among the lifeboat davits.

"Okay, Connie, what did you want to say?"

"What I've already said, but I also wondered why."

"Why do you think? Money." He laughed at Matt's expression. "What, you thought it was some ideological motive? Well, maybe it was - a devotion to mammon."

"By selling out a country full of people?"

"Oh, please. We aren't much different. Two sides of the same coin. We both lie, cheat, steal, and deceive. For what? The greater good? Is it the greater good, Connie?"

The ferry's whistle blew and they both looked to land, seeing the dock approaching quickly.

"Let me take you in, Arthur. It will look a lot better for you."

He laughed. "For me, or for you, Connie."

The sudden image of the captain creeping toward Arthur, hefting a steel bar, had Matt raising his hands and rushing forward.

"No!"

Surprised by Matt's attack, Arthur raised the gun to fire, but they collided, falling back into the oncoming captain. There was a cry of pain as the captain's hand bent back under the leverage of the bar as he fell. Matt and Arthur wrestled for purchase of the gun, banging painfully into the davit supports. Hands grasped and pulled for advantage, blows delivered wildly, and suddenly the gun fell from Arthur's hand and skittered across the deck, sliding over the edge, with Arthur crawling desperately and after it.

Matt had him by the leg, but he was skidding himself, and Arthur's weight proved too much. There was a brief cry and a splash. Matt crawled to edge and looked over in time to see the unmanned ferry drift toward the cement breakwater, and Arthur splashing frantically to get out of the way.

A chorus of shouting and screaming rose from the passengers as they fell and bumped into one another when the ferry hit the wall. Matt pulled himself to his feet, staring at the water where Arthur had once been. A sick feeling in his stomach kept him at the rail just in case, but it passed, and he turned his attention the to the captain, helping him back to the bridge and, assisting in getting the boat under control.

******

"You have a nice view from here, Constable." Steven Reilly stood at the apartment window overlooking the darkening city. He frowned at the reflection of his bruised and swollen face in the glass.

"Quite dazzling at night," Matt said, bringing him a drink. "To the end of a crappy job." They clinked glasses and drank. "SR recommended you to Level Three I hear."

Devon smiled and gave Matt a side eye. "So it seems."

"Well that's great, you deserve it, and I think you'll like it a little better than where you were."

"I'll miss working with Sher." He sipped some more.

"Yeah, can't have everything, I guess. By the way, how is she, I haven't seen her since the debrief?"

"Good as new, I think. Sher is a tough lady." He gave Matt a quizzical look. "I'll still be looking out for her."

"Yeah . . . she told me you were her original handler." Matt smiled and finished his drink. "Another?"

"Nah, thanks. I just came by to update you on the closing of the Zero file."

"Right. Guess there'll be a couple of replacement by-elections, and some new gang hierarchy changes."

"Military too," Reilly added, handing Matt his glass. "So, I'll be off. Nice working with you, Constable." The compliment sounded a tad hollow.

"You too, Devon. It was an adventure. Take care, eh?"

The door closed and Matt wandered back to the window, watching the lights coming on across the city. He thought of all the twists and turns the case had taken; the people, the emotions, and his thought ended with Arthur, and those final words. We aren't much different. Two sides of the same coin. We both lie, cheat, steal, and deceive. For what? The greater good? Is it the greater good, Connie?

His mind ran to Wylie and he pursed his lips, consigning her image to the emotions he considered earlier. What they had done would have had them both drummed out of the service if it came out. He wondered how she was handling it. He was pouring a fresh drink when the knock came to the door.

Seeing nothing through the spy hole, he quickly got his gun from the desk and then opened the door carefully.

"Gee, I bring gifts and you greet me with a gun?"

"Wylie! What are you- come in. Come in." He stepped aside as she passed by, and he swore he smelled lilac.

"So this is a Level Three residence." She turned around slowly then stopped, facing him.

"Steven- Devon just left; I thought you guys would be together . . ."

"I told you, he was like a big brother, nothing intimate." She smiled, hands on hips, watching him.

"Sorry, can I get you a drink?"

Her hand came up in a stop sign, and her head tilted, one eyebrow arching.

"What?" Befuddled.

"I didn't come for a drink."

"Okay . . . I'm at a bit of a loss here. You uhm, you said gifts?"

She undid her coat and let it fall open, and he inhaled sharply.

"Wylie?" It was a croak.

"Two things." She said, "First thing. You remember those unmentionables from the safe house washing machine." Her smile widened as she moved to him, wrapping her arms about his neck.

"Huh, uh, I guess I do, but--" He looked nervously into her eyes.

"Second thing," she said, drawing his head down to hers, "from now on it's Uncle Devon."

END

20,085 WP word count to this point