Page 27 of Beachcomber Danger

“You want me to go to Boston? Now?”

“No. The Governor is coming here. He’ll be at the big party at the President’s vacation home tomorrow night. I can get it to him either before the event or at the event. You keep a low profile. No one knows you’re here. Let’s keep it that way. I’ll have Ronnie help you build out the false walls later tonight.”

“We’ll create a hideaway for the goods. I’ll find enough space to work in. I’ve stayed in worse places. At least I get plenty of beer and burgers here.”

Dane half smiled. “Stay sober. We’re dealing with very cagey pros. Worse than dealing with crazy terrorists. When you go out, cover up.”

Acer nodded. “Disguises are my favorite. I brought a doozie with me.”

“Will I recognize you?”

“Sure. You’ve seen this guy before.”

Dane checked his watch and lowered his voice.

“Assassins are more dangerous than the typical suicidal terrorist victim. But their Achilles’ heel is that they want to live. And they do not want to get caught.” A surge in adrenaline bubbled in his chest. “We can use that knowledge against them.”

“That doesn’t explain what the Secret Service wants with us,” Shana said. “We should get out of here. They’re going to be looking for us in the restrooms and then the parking lot and they already suspect we came downstairs earlier.”

“Another minute. I have Tom watching the door.” Dane knew Jones couldn’t stop the agents, but he could make sure Dane had fair warning and slow them down. Besides, he was banking on the Secret Service not wanting to make a commotion. They’d cool their heels until Dane and Shana reappeared and then give them a hard time. They’d likely face a grilling by Andrews and Goodley when they got home.

“It’s clear that they’re using us to flush the assassins out, but how?” Shana said.

Dane stood still as a mountain, facing a wall but not seeing it.

“They don’t want us to know what they’re doing—why?” He asked his own rhetorical question.

What’s the worst possible thing they could be doing?

But Shana answered because she was smart and quick minded and, in this case, too literally dead-on.

“Because they’re setting us up as targets.”

Her words fell on them, blanketing the room with dark foreboding. And the resonance of certainty.

He turned to her and didn’t check his impulse to touch her this time. He reached a hand out and pulled on a tendril of her hair, letting it thread through his fingers.

“You’re right. Now we need to come up with the how.” Dane looked to Acer.

Acer shrugged.

“Maybe you two ought to consider—”

“This is the damn President’s life at stake. We’re in this.” Dane softened his words and flashed a glance at Shana. “But not as sacrificial lambs.”

“How does a couple, who happen to mirror the assassins themselves, flush them out? What’s the thing about us that would make them react?” Dane asked them as the idea formed in his head.

Shana looked up with a lightning spark of understanding.

“A mirror. Like we’re a second pair of assassins.”

“How the hell does the Secret Service or DHS get the real assassins to think you two are a pair of assassins?”

“They don’t,” Dane said to Acer. “But the NSA might have some tricks up their sleeves—”

“Shit damn,” Acer said. “Let me check a couple of things. He rushed to his suite of computers and began tapping away.

Dane stood behind the man. “We don’t have a lot of time here. Is there a way you can short-cut this to confirm our suspicions?”