Emma looked thoughtful for a minute or two, studying Laurie.
“Yes, we can do that. I can show you a lot about self-defense. But you can’t shoot my son when he comes back.” Emma pointed the wooden spoon at her.
Laurie chuckled.
“I promise it will only be for defense. I don’t want to shoot him.” Laurie shook her head.
“Really? I know I’m tempted.” Emma leaned over the oatmeal. Laurie and Gabriella smiled at each other for the first time that morning, as Emma began scooping the oatmeal out into large bowls. Then she brought the bowls over to the table.
Laurie looked at the oatmeal, but her stomach turned sour. She wasn’t hungry, at least not enough to counterbalance the ball of nerves rolling around in her stomach. The boys joined them for breakfast.
As soon as the boys wandered back to the TV, the women began making plans to train Laurie in firearms and self-defense. Then they made plans for schooling the boys while they were staying in Nebraska, and upkeep around the farm for the winter. They didn’t know when the men would be back, but the women were going to make sure they didn’t have time to miss them very much.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dante
Dante squinted, looking out over the parking lot at Bradshaw. He had hoped the truck might still be there, but it was gone. He sighed. Any pretense of returning to his normal life here vanished. Dante turned to his father.
“Do we have everything? It’s going to be a long hike. We won’t get there until nightfall.” Dante nodded to their packs.
“We’re ready.” Albert adjusted the pack on his shoulders.
Bob nodded. Bob was pale and red-eyed from flying for several hours while Albert and Dante slept.
Dante knew Bob had grown accustomed to long missions without sleep, but he wondered if Bob was a little far from those days.
“All right, we’re headed toward the volcano.” Dante foisted his pack onto his back.
Dante led them down the side of the highway to the access road leading to the Mauna Kea State Park. Then they branched off on a trail that ran along Mauna Road. After a few hours, they stopped for a break. They sank down onto the grass of the embankment. Dante looked at his father and uncle; both of them were panting, sweating from the heat and the physical labor. The sheen of perspiration turned their skin a pasty grey. They seemed frail to him, old, as they struggled to breathe. The sweat enhanced their wrinkles and dampened their grey hairs. It made Dante doubt their mission. He wondered whether it was a mistake to come here. Now that they had come all this way, he doubted their pride would let them turn back without finding something out about Kaimi.
Dante resolved himself to go slower for the rest of the day, to make them rest more than what he would if he was on his own. He let them take an extra-long break, as Bob lay down in the grass beside the trail to take a combat nap. Dante made sure they drank extra water, because the day was muggy—a shock to their systems given where they had just come from.
After their break, they hiked several more hours up the trail, before it broke off to the right. Dante paused there. If he went straight ahead, he would go down to the waterfall he had taken Laurie to the last time he was here. It made the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile to think of her as she was on that day. The thought was so delicious, he suggested they stop there for lunch. They broke out their food then ate in virtual silence, each man keeping his own thoughts.
After they rested, they turned down the trail that led into the Hilo Forest Reserve. They descended downward for a long while, climbing over logs and stones thrown down from the volcano. The humidity deepened. The sweat dripped down their faces like rain. They were able to move faster now, descending downward until they hit a gentle rolling land base. Despite taking frequent breaks, Dante was surprised with how quickly they reached the tree line above the Hilo safe house.
Dante pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the house in the dim twilight. There were no cars he could see, no movement. In fact, he could still see the crime scene tape surrounding the property. He pulled out his uncle’s infrared goggles. There was nothing but greens and blues. No one was there.
He motioned them forward. In slow, lumbering moves, Bob and Albert picked themselves up from the forest floor, following Dante to the patio of the safe house. Dante left them there as he walked around the perimeter. The windows had been replaced; the beaten doors riddled with bullet holes had been put back. Otherwise, the place looked untouched from the attack that occurred months ago. The doors were still sealed with crime scene tape, which gave Dante pause before he split it open. Then he slid his key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered the house from the front.
Now he knew the house had been undisturbed since he left it. The counters had a thin layer of dust. Dishes were still sitting in the drain board. Broken glass sparkled at the base of every window. Dante walked the length of the kitchen, thinking of his race to get to Cheyn. He wondered how his friend was doing, and wished he could call him. He knew he couldn’t.
Dante entered the living room, took a brief sweeping glance of it, then opened the patio door to let in Albert and Bob.
The two men entered. They looked around the house. They observed the bullet holes littering the wall, the cracked TV screen, and the bloodstains on the carpet where men had died.
“Must have been quite a firefight.” Bob surveyed the damage to the wall beside him.
“It was.” He turned away, leading them into the kitchen.
Dante looked through the canned goods he had bought months before. He swept the broken glass off the counter, then evaluated the refrigerator. It had been emptied and cleaned. Dante gave silent thanks for that. He pulled out some pasta and sauce from the cabinet and began making them dinner.
Albert and Bob sat at the table exhausted.
“How far is the campsite we’re going to?” Bob laid his head in his hands.
“A hike,” Dante replied over his shoulder. “But not like the one we had today. It should be half-a-day.”
“Oh, is that all?” Bob gave a rueful smile.
“You’ll feel better after you’ve had a full night’s rest.” Dante smiled into the boiling water.
“Good. I was starting to worry.” Bob wiped the sweat from his brow. Dante turned to his father and uncle.
“When is the rental car company picking us up?” Dante leaned against the counter.
“Tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.” He spread his map out on the table. “The motel is booked just for the night, and we’ll get the rental boat in the morning.”
“Good.” Dante turned back to his boiling pot of water.
Albert made a non-committal grunt, as he continued to peer at the map.
Dante broke open the box of pasta, dumping it all in. Then he opened the sauce, and poured it into another pot. A cell phone rang, which caused Dante to jump, swinging around.
His father reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, his eyes never leaving the map.
“Hello?” Albert asked into the receiver. There was a long pause as Albert listened. “I see. So they didn’t find anything?”
Dante turned his back on the conversation. He poured the cooked noodles into a strainer, shut off the bubbling sauce, and got out the plates.
“Are there any new leads?” Albert asked. “Uh-huh. That’s interesting. I see. Well, if I can be of any help, please let me know. Thank you. Goodbye.”
“Dinner’s ready.” Dante pulled a lump of noodles out of the strainer.
“That was one of our field agents out here—an old trainee of mine.” Albert smirked. “The FBI raided the Molokai house a week ago, but they didn’t find any evidence of Kaimi.”
“We gathered that from your end of the conversation already.” Dante’s jaw hardened.