Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)

“Yes. Even a pilot can have plans.”

For a few moments, she let herself imagine that life was that easy. Buy a piece of land, and everything would simply fall into place. But she knew it was not the way life worked. Now she understood. Buy a cliff top, eat peanut butter.

The walk back to the hotel was quiet. Remi could feel a sense of calm in Sam. She was certain he could feel a sense of disquiet in her. Perhaps he wanted to test the waters. Almost to the hotel he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her toward him. The kiss was natural, warm and meaningful. And neither felt the need to let go. Then just as suddenly, reality returned and it was time to get into the Jeep and head back.

Sam cranked the engine over. Nothing happened. He tried several more times before opening the hood.

It was after dark when they’d managed to find a local mechanic, who confirmed the extent of the problem. “Sorry,” the man said, wiping his hands on a rag. “No one’s going anywhere until the alternator gets replaced. And that won’t happen until tomorrow afternoon.”

Remi watched them working, her unease growing as time ticked away. They were at least two hours from Long Beach, but it was getting later and later. “Maybe we can rent a car?” she asked.

“You could,” the mechanic said. “If you can find someplace that’s open this late on a Sunday.” He tossed the rag into his toolbox, then slammed the hood shut. Noticing the worry in Remi’s eyes, he said, “You don’t have somewhere you have to be, do you?”

“Just an early-morning flight.”

“Can’t help you there.” He looked at Sam. “Want me to order the part? Or do you want to wait for a tow truck?”

“Order the part.”

Before she had a chance to voice her concern, Sam was on the phone, explaining the situation to whoever was on the other end. “Nothing to worry about,” he told her.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Trust me?”

“When I’m on my way to the airport, then yes.”

He gave a nod, finished his call, then settled up with the mechanic.

Less than an hour later, the sound of rotor blades from an airborne helicopter grew louder. Sam looked up. “I think your ride’s here.”

“You hired a helicopter?” But it wasn’t just any helicopter, it was a big, no, a very big, double-rotor Marine helicopter.

“Not exactly. I called a buddy of mine. He owes me a favor.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in Long Beach. They caught a cab, and ten minutes later, they were at her apartment. Sam unloaded her suitcase, then walked her to her apartment.

Their goodbye kiss was cut short when Olivia opened the door. “About time,” she said. “You were supposed to be home hours ago.”

Sam smiled at Olivia as she stepped out and rolled Remi’s suitcase inside. Turning back to Remi, he kissed her once more. “Have a safe trip.”

“I will,” she said. “And good luck with your investor meeting.”

“Thanks,” he said, and headed down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he looked up at her. “I’ll be pining away until you get back.”

She stopped to look back at him. “You don’t strike me as the pining type.”

“I’ve never had anything to pine over before now.”

Remi laughed. “See you in three weeks, Sam Fargo.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Fourni Korseon, Greece

Three days later . . .

Adrian Kyril moved to the mouth of the near-vertical cavern, looking down as Fayez lowered himself into the dark depths, the glow of his headlamp disappearing from view. “You’re sure this is the right cave?” Adrian asked Tassos Gianakos, the resident expert on pirate lore.