“Yes. And I suspect it’s going to be tough getting a tow truck up that track,” Sam complained.
“Probably kids. That’s the kind of crap they pull,” Des said. “Same the world over. Bored, too much time on their hands.”
“Maybe,” Sam said.
“Certainly shut your exploration down, didn’t it?” Des said to Lazlo.
“Maybe that was the whole point,” Remi muttered with a veiled glance at Sam.
“Des, I think we’ll want to borrow one of our divers to keep watch over our vehicle while we’re exploring,” Sam said.
“No worries. We’ve got a good rhythm going now. We can spare one.”
“Good,” Sam said, and then remembered about the new boat. “Oh, and some news: we have a large vessel en route to take over from you. So your stint in the Solomons will be over shortly.”
Des nodded. “I know. Selma already notified my headquarters. We’re out of here on Saturday.” Des smiled. “I don’t think Leonid will be sad to see us go.”
“Underneath that grumpy exterior is a morose and unhappy inner core,” Sam assured him. They all laughed, and then Sam grew serious. “If you don’t think it will pose a problem, we’ll take your rental off your hands, Des. Seems like a hearty vehicle, and we’ll need one if we’re going to finish up our little adventure in the hills.”
“No problem. We can coordinate it tomorrow at the office.” He named a rental agency—fortunately, one that Sam and Remi hadn’t used yet.
“I hope our reputation hasn’t preceded us,” Remi commented. “We don’t have a great track record w
ith rental cars here.”
Leonid appeared in the doorway twenty minutes later, Dr. Berry behind his wheelchair. “Your friend’s all patched up. No breaks, so just the stitches and some blood loss to contend with. I told him to stay hydrated and drink plenty of fruit juice and to stay off that leg for a few days. Come by to get the stitches out in a week.”
“So no diving,” Leonid said, smiling for the first time.
At the hotel, the night manager recovered from his surprise at having another guest check in and quickly processed the paperwork while they waited. The restaurant was still open, only two patrons lingering over after-dinner drinks in a quiet corner, and the group ordered a seafood platter and plentiful beer. “For medicinal purposes,” Des said.
Lazlo shook his head sadly. “Alas, that medicine has bitten me for the last time.”
Remi smiled as she leaned toward Lazlo and whispered, “We’re all proud of you, Lazlo.”
“Yes, well, I will say that most people I meet are singularly uninteresting, now that I’m sober. An unavoidable by-product of all this newly acquired virtue, I suppose.” He glanced around the table and toasted with his soda. “Present company excepted of course.”
The next morning, they met in the lobby at seven for coffee. Leonid agreed that he would stay on land until the stitches were pulled, obviously relieved to be excused from the Darwin for the duration. Sam and Des left Lazlo and Leonid with Remi on the veranda while they went to swap licenses at the rental agency, after which Sam dropped him at the docks.
“We’ll see you before you go,” Sam said.
“Going to have another go at the caves, are you?” he asked.
“You better believe it.” They hadn’t shared their discovery of the mass grave with Des.
“Well, good luck. Call me when you want to pick up one of the lads. I’ll ferry him to shore for you. Any preference on who goes?”
“Greg seems like he can handle himself, doesn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t want to go up against him,” Des confirmed with a nod. “You thinking about heading into the hills again today?”
“No, probably tomorrow. We need to coordinate a tow truck, and at the pace this island operates, that could be half the day. I’ll give you a buzz when we’re on our way.”
“Good enough,” Des said.
Upon Sam’s return to the hotel, he was surprised by the heated discussion under way between Leonid and Remi. She turned as he neared, a frustrated expression on her face—a look Sam knew to be cautious around.
“Would you tell your Russian friend he is under no circumstances going to try to go with us to the caves again?” she demanded.