CLASSIFIED
ISLAND
20:15 HOURS
Agent Jones dipped the darts in the liquid Mind’s Flower. Since the unfortunate incident with Miss Texas he’d had to replace his stock. It made him feel safe to have them. And considering how screw-the-pooch things were going on the island, he needed something to make him feel safe.
Harris breezed past in a Knicks jersey, a ridiculous sweatband across his head. “Looking a little rough today, Jonesy,” Harris said.
Agent Jones did not look up. “Did you fix the manual override system?”
Harris put up his hands in a back-off gesture. “Going to. Got a pickup game with some of the black shirts in a few.” Harris faked a jump shot. “Nothing but net.”
“Don’t do that, Harris. It’s cliché.”
“What crawled up your ass today?”
“Pirates,” Agent Jones answered.
Harris nodded. “Whatever floats your boat. Ha! I made a pun. Get it? Boat? Pirates?”
Agent Jones closed his eyes for a second and tried to cast his mind back to a more pleasant time, when he had helped stage a brutal coup in a small South American republic. Bullets flying. Grenades exploding. Pandemonium and blood and screaming in the streets. And no Harris.
“Don’t you have something to do?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I might. You don’t think I can handle this, do you?”
Agent Jones did not answer.
“Well, you are going to be surprised. I can handle myself just fine. I already did handle myself. Wait, that came out wrong.”
Agent Jones packed away the fourth dart. One more to go.
“Don’t you want to know what I did?”
“No.”
“Just a little.”
“No.”
“I’ll bet you can’t guess —”
“No.”
Harris was quiet for a full fifteen seconds.
“Fine, I’ll tell you. Remember Benny from product development? The one who came up with our Lady ’Stache Off bomb? I killed him.”
“Did you find out his contact first?”
Harris’s shoulders sagged like a flotation device losing air. “I killed him. Me. I did it.”
“Without finding out his contact first.”
“See, the way you say it, all negative like that, makes it sound like I messed up.”
“You did mess up.”
“No. I was proactive. The suits love it when you are proactive.”
“The agency loves it when you are effective.”
Harris’s mouth tightened, sphincterlike. “You’re a bummer, Jonesy. I’m gonna shoot some hoops.”
“You do that,” Agent Jones muttered. By the time he finished his darts, he’d made a decision: He wasn’t telling the Boss about the pirates.
The elevator carried him down to the fifth floor. The fifth floor housed the weapons and detention cells.
It was time to get some information out of Tane Ngata.
39Jessica Everett, Americas tabloid sweetheart, beloved for her great legs and even greater hair. Star of the romantic comedies Man Hunt, Wedding Day, Wedding Day 2: I Thought I Loved You But You’re a Jackass, Wedding Day 3: Third Time’s the Charm, My Best Friend’s Boyfriend, Let’s Get Married!, Bridal Shower, and Dinner for Two. Rent them all today!
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