Her first reconnoitre was of the main house, peering in available windows and checking the security system. Next, she followed the crushed stone road which led to a second house, and there she managed to find a window with a partially open drape.

Inside she could make out the figures of three men moving about the room and talking but not quite loud enough for her to hear. The one fact she discovered was they were armed, because she could see a Ruger NATO semi-automatic pistol hanging on the back of a chair.

A faint crunch sound made her sink to the ground, eyes level, as she saw the legs walk around the corner of the building, pause a moment, and walk back. Another man carrying another weapon. Why, she wondered, would they need a sentry? Was Forrester that unsure of his guests? Good reason. She moved around the house checking windows and doors, making mental notes then slipped away from the property and back across the grounds.

"What the hell?" Arny tossed his towel aside and stood with his hands on his hips. "Where and what have you been doing? What?"

Gretta put a finger to her lips then took off her toque and tossed it and the weapons on the bed.

"You might want to slip your shorts on, lover. I can't talk straight facing that image." He gaped at the items and raised his hands in the air. "Gretta, for God's sake what the hell is this?"

"A gun and a knife."

"I know what they are! What are they doing here?"

"Never leave home without one, lover, and keep your voice down."

She pulled the dark pants and top off and slipped on a bed shirt, crawling on the bed up to the pillows, setting the weapons on the night table.

"I had a very interesting walk. C'mon here and I'll tell you all about it."

"Gretta . . . ah, what the hell's the use." He crawled up beside her and lay at attention on his back.She giggled and threw a cover over him.

The information was precise, detailed and not a little frightening. Arny had questioned the guns and their potential purpose, then he complained again about the news that they had been videoed, and still would be, if Gretta hadn't covered the cameras.

"Tomorrow we'll speak with the others and discuss options. Meanwhile, get into bed properly and get some sleep."

Arny complied but couldn't sleep.

****

Morning was a travel brochure's dream. A golden sunrise on an azure sea. The hiss of a gentle surf against the shore, and room service carts with breakfasts of fruit, baked bread, bacon, cereal, and a variety of juices along with pots of steaming coffee parked on each patio.

"Wow! Check this out, Hart." Verna poured a bowl of cereal and two glasses of juice. "I should take notes for Harry – class his place up a bit."

"Harry runs a diner, Verna."

Hart pulled a chair over to the table and drank some juice. "You seem somewhat recovered from last night."

"Mmm, but this is so elegant."

"Vern, there's something I need to tell you and I don't want you freaking out on me, okay?"

"You're scaring me again, Hart."

"Please?"

"Okay."

"This morning when I was getting washed and shaved, I discovered a camera in the bathroom-"

"What?"

"There is another in the living area . . . it covers the whole space."

Verna stopped eating, her face set in stone.

"I covered the lenses, but if there's video there's audio as well and that I can't stop."

Hart watched her get up and go inside, figuring she needed a minute by herself, when the room phone rang. He got up and went in to answer it. Verna was listening silently, her worried looking eyes swinging over to his.

"That was him – Malcolm – he asked how my parents were doing in Hong Kong." She dropped the phone and sank onto the bed.

"Vern, it's okay. Don't worry."

"How do you know it's okay? How does he know where my parents are? Hart, I'm really frightened."

"Vern, I promise I will take care of this. Get yourself together and we'll go and speak with the others. This is just him trying to shake us up."

"Well it's working."

"Verna. Please. Go and get dressed"

When she reappeared, she was dressed and striding off the patio, around the grounds to the other villas without waiting. Hart glanced regretfully at the breakfast spread and jogged after her.

****

"Morning!" Desdemona tied her dressing gown and stood as Verna came tramping toward her. "Nice wake up treat after last night, eh? Care for a coffee?"

Verna looked toward the villa then beckoned Des away.

"What's wrong, something the matter?"

"We are being recorded. In there," Verna said in a harsh whisper, pointing at the villa, "and Malcolm called me this morning."

"What?"

Hart jogged up in time to calm Verna, and tell Desdemona what had happened.

"Parker! We have guests." Des tightened her dressing gown even more.

Knee-length shorts. Plastic flip-flops, and a straw hat that looked like something stolen from a scarecrow, Parker ambled down to where the others stood, sipping a mango juice.

"What's up?"

"Listen to what Mr. Hart has to say."

"Just Hart or Rick is fine, please." He walked Parker away a few yards and filled him in on what had occurred.

"Well that's a bummer. You have any idea what he's up to?"

"No, but we need to get the rest together and figure something out."

"For sure. Two heads are heavier than one."

Hart watched him walk back to the girls, puzzling over the comment.

****

Everyone was rounded up and in lawn chairs around Billy and Miller's pool. It was furthest from their villa, and a thorough policing had been done by Greta and Jessica. Hart related again what had happened and his theory about what Malcolm might be up to.

"He wants to scare the shit out of us by making us feel very vulnerable." He made a face as the sound of an airplane roared overhead.

Jeff shaded his eyes, looking up.

"So you think he's going to do something like that to each of us – soften us up?" Billy grabbed Miller's hand. "My dad . . ."

Gretta raised a hand and called for quiet. "Before we let this get blown all out of proportion, let's think about it. If attacking us through friends or family was his goal, he could have done that at any time, and without all this ceremony. Hart is right. It's a mind game he wants to enjoy before his big finale."

She continued by recounting what she had learned the previous night. "That pretty much brings us to now."

"So now what, then?" Gordon looked around the group of solemn faces.

"We definitely need to formulate a strategy." Jessica answered.

"Against a bunch of armed men? You don't even know how many there are!" Miller leaned forward, arms on knees. "I think we should just brace Forrester as a group and demand an answer."

"I'm pretty sure that plane we heard a few minutes ago was him leaving the island." Jeff looked up, in emphasis.

"Okay, water under the bridge. What we need now is just as Jessica said . . . a strategy. Forrester being gone may just be an advantage, we'll have to see. First off, we know we are being filmed – and they know we know."

"How would they know that?"

"Because some of us found the cameras in our villa and covered them up."

"Was that smart?" Des asked.

"It was the only way I could sneak out without them knowing."

"But they suspected something anyway." Hart said. "Because they had a sentry at that house you saw."

"Can we get back to the strategy?" Arny moaned.

The group fell silent and Gretta patted his arm. "Patience, lover. Ooops, we have company."