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"Fine. What's going on in here?" Dar asked, looking around. Boxes and boxes of gear were stacked against the walls, most unpacked with humming and blinking boxes propped up on every available surface. "Mark, the network goes inside the ship, yeah?"

"Lemme get rid of this." Mark trotted over and divested himself of his load, handing it off to a harried looking tech. "A ton of our stuff came in, but they ain't got no space for it yet."

"Ah." Kerry walked over to a carton and examined the packing slip. "Yeah, I was expecting this today. Good." She looked over at Mark. "Guess they came through after all, no matter where they got it from."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, I talked to our guy today, just checking on stuff. He's still torked."

"Too bad." Kerry put her hands on her hips. "So, you brought it all in here?"

"Nuh uh." He shook his head. "I got told it was coming in here, and that I was supposed to do something useful with it."

Dar cocked her head. "Who in the hell had the balls to tell you that?"

Kerry was already smiling, half covering her face with one hand.

"Your dad." Mark cheerfully supplied. "I figured I'd better listen to him."

"My dad." Dar appeared to have developed a headache, from the way she was rubbing her temples. "Okay, fine. So you are...?"

"Setting up, burning in, and testing the network here," Mark said. "Configuring it after that, so when they do have someplace to put it, we'll be ready."

Dar absorbed that, then nodded. "Makes sense." She said. "John around?"

Mark pointed toward the entrance to the ship. He watched Dar limp off, then turned to Kerry. "Hey...um...I got something kinda skanky to show you."

Kerry tore her own eyes from her partner's retreating back, and focused on him. "Skanky?"

She followed Mark over to a pallet that was covered with a gray, dusty tarp. Mark took hold of one end of it and pulled it free, exposing a stack of boxes. "Dar's old man dropped this over here too. Said it was delivered to us by accident, but we should just keep it hidden."

Kerry looked at the packing slip. The receiving name was Telegenics. "This isn't ours."

"Yeah, I know." Mark agreed. "It's the same stuff we ordered, but it's for those jerk wads down on the other ship." He pointed. "Got three more pallets full."

"The four orders."

"Yeah."

Kerry walked to each pallet, and examined the labels. They were all identical. Proof of Telegenic's duplicity--or was it? Could that have been done by accident? "Mark, did you ever ask the goofball if they questioned those four orders?"

Mark walked over and leaned an elbow on the boxes. "Yeah, I did. He told me he was told to shut up and mind his own business, and just deliver what was ordered."

And didn't that just sound like Shari? Kerry slowly let out a held breath. "Well, well." She flicked her fingers against the cardboard, suddenly aware that she held the fate of the bids in her hands, at least the Telegenics one. There was no way for them to get replacement gear for anything less than truly exorbitant prices if this batch went missing, chiefly because they themselves dried up the channel.

What goes around comes around. Wasn't that the saying? Didn't it serve Shari and Michelle right to have this happen after what they'd tried to do?

It was just good, hard business sense for Kerry to keep these pallets right here, under cover, maybe filing a mis-delivery with the carrier that would take several weeks to resolve, right?

Absolutely.

"You have a really funny look on your face, chief." Mark commented.

"My head's having a cat fight with my conscience." Kerry let her hand fall. She turned and spotted a cluster of people near the office. "Now what?" She started toward the group, leaving the pallets behind for the time being.

Mark stood by and watched, until one of the techs came up next to him. "Hey." The tech said. "You show her these boxes?"

"Yeah." Mark nodded.

"What do you think she's gonna do with 'em?"

Mark scratched his neck. "I dunno." He admitted. "C'mon, we've got shit to do." He headed back toward the piled gear, shaking his head a little.

Chapter Twelve

DAR LIMPED UP the gangway, wincing at both the pain in her foot and the glaring spotlights surrounding the pier. She could hear men cursing ahead of her, and suddenly in the rumble of sound she caught a familiar drawl.

She stopped at the top of the gangway, unable to go further due to the cramming of boxes, people, gear, and packing material stuffed in the entrance. Briefly she paused, looking for a way around it, then shrugged and tipped her head back a little. "Dad!" She let out a yell.

One hundred percent of those inside the hold were men, and a significant portion of them were fathers. However, only one shouted. "Dardar, that you? Careful of that there mess, will ya?"

"What in the hell is all this crap?" Dar pushed against a box. "You building an ark in there?"

Abruptly a box moved then disappeared, allowing Andrew to stick his grizzled head into the hole it left. "Lord, I will tell you there are more stupid human beings inside this here boat than I met in all mah years in the Navy."

Dar leaned against the boxes. "What are you doing here?"

"Long tale, young lady," her father said. "Anyhow, them folks are trying to get all this here new stuff up one itty-bitty elevator and it ain't flying. You get them boxes inside? That's all your stuff, ain't it?"

"Yeah," Dar said. "My people are setting it all up and getting it ready."

"Yeap." Andy nodded again. "Folks seem like they know what's up inside there."

"Of course." Dar felt a prickle of pride. "Hey, why don't you put some of this packing crap out on the pier? You'd have more room."

Her father gave her a look. "Cause them there folks," he pointed at a sextet of jacketed individuals watching the ship, "do not want no garbage exiting this here vessel."

"Ah." Dar exhaled. "EPA?"

"Yeap."

"How in the hell did they get into all this?" Dar wondered.

Andy cleared his throat. Dar looked at him. They exchanged knowing glances. Dar scrubbed her face with one hand, and mildly resented this additional complication to an already complex and morally questionable series of actions. "Christ."

"Well," Andy sighed, "them boats are leaking."

"I know." Dar leaned against the side of the ship entrance. "But there are so many questionable things involved with this circus right now, if that gets out...I don't' know." She shifted her weight off her injured foot. "It's a mess."

Andrew was watching her like a hawk. "Something hurting you?"

"I got my foot bit by a fish." Dar answered absently, her mind churning over the possibilities.

"How in the hell did that happen?"

"Long damn story." Dar turned and put her hands on the gangway railing. "All right, let's just do what we can, and make the best of it." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Thanks for watching out for us."

Andy regarded her. "You going inside there? Let you know when a body can move inside this place."

Dar nodded. "You need anything? Drinks or whatever? I saw our catering truck outside."

Andy grinned.

"I'll take care of it." Dar turned and made her way back down the ramp, wondering what possibly could happen next to screw up a situation already so screwed up it defied explanation.

Then she figured she'd better stop wondering in case it happened.

KERRY STOOD INSIDE the small office, surrounded by busy people. She had taken a cup of cold water, and she was slowly sipping it as she listened to the many conversational threads around her.

But her mind wasn't really on the business in the room. She rolled the cold, almost tasteless water around in her mouth and swallowed it, feeling the chill slide down her throat and into her stomach.