Natasha and Kurath, who seemed as friendly as they had been at the party, stood guard. Tiber was forward in the wheelhouse. Forrest took the cruiser back to the island. Before he left, there was a disagreement of opinion. Tiber called from the wheel, “I say get rid of ‘em.” “Not yet,” Forrest said. “There could be a slip-up. Do it as we planned.” Natasha looked angry. “As you planned, you mean. Why should we stay on that damned island all day?” “To get ready for tonight,” Forrest said. “The boats will be coming in about ten.” He moved insolently toward the other cruiser, which was neatly grappled to this one. Knox looked at Kurath, who had watched the interchange with bored disinterest. “What’s your stake in this?” “I’m just along for the ride,” he said. Lighting a cigarette, he wandered away, standing on the deck to watch the receding lights of the other cruiser. Knox said to Natasha, “You’ve just been made a sucker of, baby.” She looked at him and sneered.
