The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the ship’s powerful engine, a slight, worrying vibration.
SURPRISINGLY, THINGS WENT according to plan.
It was almost as if Security served it up on a platter for Philby. He worked out an elaborate scheme to lure people out of the offices so he could get inside as his DHI and defeat the aft gangway alarm—only to watch an apparent emergency vacate the place like it was on fire. Philby overrode the cameras and the alarm easily. Finn and Philby hurried to the aft gangway door where they met up with Maybeck, Willa, and Charlene.
Having left all electronics behind, but keeping their IDs on them, they slipped into the water and swam to shore where Storey had left a line for them to climb, ingeniously located behind a large sign listing immigration policy for arriving passengers. The Keepers pulled themselves up to the dock, rolled, and hid behind the sign, undetected.
The pier work of unloading trash and loading mountains of food by forklift kept the crew and longshoremen occupied. Philby peered around the sign, gave a thumbs-up, and the five Keepers walked calmly through the warehouse to their freedom, avoiding the immigration station, which hadn’t even opened yet.
Finn and Philby took up a location by an ATM that offered a clear view of Deck 11 and waited. Maybeck headed into the streets of Puerto Vallarta with Charlene, while Willa stayed near a taxi stand up the street with a clear view of the two boys.
Thirty minutes felt like several hours, but finally Storey appeared along the rail. She waved her arms. Philby waved back. She pointed forward.
“Here we go,” Philby said. “The OTs are on the move. Same as Aruba.”
Storey’s final signal was cradling her arms and rocking an invisible baby—the sign that the OTs were carrying something: Dillard.
“They’ve got him,” Finn said.
“Not for long, they don’t,” Philby said.
The sound of approaching motors caught their ears. They looked up to see Maybeck and Charlene riding scooters. The two pulled to the curb and indicated the spare helmets clipped to the seats.
“No way!” Finn said. “How could you possibly—?”
“It’s Mexico,” Maybeck said.
Charlene said proudly, “He told the guy renting them that he was twenty and I was eighteen.”
“Turned out it didn’t matter,” Maybeck explained. “You can rent them at fifteen or over. We have them for the day.”
“What about Willa?” Philby asked.
“She’ll take the taxi as planned,” Maybeck said. “You going to climb on, or what?”
“You look stupid in that helmet,” Philby said.
“Wait until you have yours on, Romeo.”
Finn teamed up with Charlene; Philby with Maybeck. They rode up to Willa and filled her in. While her eyes betrayed her desire to be with Philby, she neither complained nor objected. To work their mission smoothly, the teamwork required of each of them overcame the rest.
Willa pointed out a rusted white van parked away from the Dream on the next pier. “I’m guessing that’s their ride.”
“Got to be,” Philby said. “So one bike in front, one behind; and the taxi keeps the van in sight but never too close.” He added, “Okay with you?”
A small boat pulled up to the pier near the van. None of them had noticed the crane until it lowered a sling toward the waiting boat.
“They’re offloading something heavy,” Philby said. “Something big.”
“Him.” For Finn, the one word rang out like the sound of a starting gun.
* * *
An hour outside of Puerto Vallarta, Willa realized she’d run out of money. The taxi driver dropped her by the side of the road. On the scooter, Charlene had lost sight of Maybeck and Philby, the white van, and the taxi.
“Hey,” Finn said into her ear, holding on to her from behind. “Isn’t that—”
“Willa’s taxi!”
“Empty!”
Charlene sped up the bike, believing they’d reached their destination. When they found Willa on the side of the road, their spirits were crushed. Not only would they now slow down further due to having three on the bike, but any chance of closing the distance on Maybeck’s bike and the white van were dashed.
“We’ve lost them,” Finn said.
“Maybe not,” Willa countered. “The driver spoke some English. And by ‘some,’ I mean very little. He said the only thing out here is a stone quarry and some ancient ruins. There’s a trailhead. He said maybe ten more kilometers.”
“The quarry?”
“End of the road. Another five kilometers past the trailhead. The early natives used the quarry for their temple rock. They built a limestone road from the quarry to the site. It still exists.”