Copyright:  Thursday, March 10, 2005 07:05:51 PM         PARADISE ISLAND ATLANTIC OCEAN MID-AFTERNOON - DAY 5               Sergeant Levitz had been in the Marines for a long, long time. Joined up right after high school, survived the sadistic DI’s at boot camp, did his time in the trenches of a dozen different hostile countries. Worked his way all the way up to Chief Gunnery Sergeant before being transferred to the U.S.S. Kennedy. And that lucky break had changed his whole perspective on life. The past three years had been a slice of heaven for a once-skinny Jewish misfit from the Bronx slums.            Two days ago, he’d have sworn that he’d seen everything there was to see, and done everything there was to do. But this assignment was different, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.            Oh, he’d done his share of hostage rescues. They were never easy, and the price for failure was always terrifyingly high. He had nightmares sometimes, though he’d never have admitted it to his teammates, of crises going horribly wrong and exploding in his face. Literally.            Okay, so think it all through. Agent Doggett was Hewitt’s old partner, and he’d begged a favor from his lifelong buddy. That was fair enough, nearly everyone in the service owed their partners life-debts. Who hadn’t almost gotten killed at least once? Levitz owed Kenny a few favors himself, which was why he’d volunteered for this mission.            But the mission itself didn’t make sense. How could they do their jobs properly when they were obviously on a wild goose chase?            Doggett seemed sane enough, yet he persisted in believing that a bunch of castaways--no one knew how many--were stranded somewhere on this island. And his pretty little partner claimed that trained assassins were trying to kill them.            The entire thing was crazy! How could survivors from a plane crash hundreds of miles away be on this remote little island? If every minute was so precious, why had the Chief insisted that they row to the island, instead of using the raft’s onboard motor? And why were armed assassins chasing a bunch of shipwrecked civilians, anyway?            Maybe it was only an elaborate training exercise--Hewitt was always searching for new and innovative ways to keep his men sharp. If so, it certainly took the prize!            But Levitz didn’t dare lower his guard--just in case. There might not be any real refugees or assassins on this island. But if it was a training exercise, Kenny was sure to have cooked up something really bizarre! You could always count on him for that. Things were never boring around Chief Warrant Officer Hewitt.            A sudden noise somewhere ahead caught his attention, and his eyes narrowed. This was where things were sure to get interesting.            Kenny was several yards higher up the mountain, and a few feet in front of Levitz. He’d heard that stealthy sound, too. And nothing in his manner hinted that this was just a drill. So Levitz aimed his weapon and, like Hewitt, melted effortlessly into the scenery to watch and wait.            A shallow ravine cut down the mountain, twisting and turning as it meandered toward the distant golden beach. A faint gurgle of trickling water was just barely audible through the sultry silence. Even the fitful wind seemed to hold its breath in sudden anticipation.            Two dark shadows were cautiously slinking across the shadowed ravine like vengeful spirits. Even from his hiding place, Levitz could see that they moved like professionals--and they were not members of his own elite cadré. His nerves tightened with renewed enthusiasm. Maybe this wasn’t a training exercise, after all!            Kenny lifted one hand in a silent command. Levitz peered through his M-16's high-powered scope, and took careful aim at the lagging assassin. One well-placed round, and it was all over except for the burial party...            Then he hesitated, and his eyes widened in blank disbelief. Another figure was warily peering over the tumbled boulders above his target--and he’d swear that it was a little old man in a torn flannel shirt!            Far north of their position, gunshots suddenly rang out. The two assassins whirled, and started to scramble back down the ravine. But before they could take a single step, the old man jumped up and hurled something solid at the nearest one.            The big assassin yelped and staggered back, clutching his bruised shoulder. His partner whipped back around. Bullets ricocheted through the ravine as the old man swiftly ducked back down, out of danger’s way.            This was no training exercise--and those thugs were about to pulverize that crazy old fellow! Levitz took careful aim again. His finger tightened on the trigger...            Suddenly the entire hillside seemed to come alive! A deep rumbling filled the air as rocks tumbled haphazardly down the narrow ravine. Levitz stared in shocked wonder as another graying head popped up from the bushes, and an old woman’s wrinkled face began to beam with impish delight.            Both assassins were heavily armed--but they didn’t stand a chance against a massive rockslide. Levitz shook his head in bemused wonder as the ominous rumbling swelled to a full-fledged roar, then slowly died away again. Deathly silence returned to the steep mountainside, amid a thick haze of dislodged dust.            Kenny’s eyes danced with suppressed laughter as he carefully edged backwards. "C’mon," he whispered in a muted undertone, "don’t let them see you. Anyone that clever deserves to enjoy their moment of triumph!"            Paddy and Hawkins were scurrying up the hillside, their weapons cautiously drawn. Kenny whistled a soft, distinctive cadence to catch their attention. Both Marines visibly relaxed, and dropped down into the bushes with their older teammates.            "What happened, Chief?" Paddy demanded, staring in dismay at the dust-filled ravine beyond them. "You weren’t attacked, were you?"            Kenny quickly shook his head, and outlined what he and Levitz had just witnessed. "Damnedest thing I ever saw," he chuckled, "Methuselah and Grandma Moses taking on armed assassins with rocks and coconuts--and winning!"            Hawkins raised one black eyebrow, and flashed his white teeth in a broad grin. "An’ you dragged us out of our nice comfy bunks why?" he demanded. "Sounds to me like these natives have the situation well in hand!"            "For the moment," Kenny nodded, sobering again. "But you all heard those gunshots further north. There are others still roaming loose. Paddy, I want you and Hawkins to check out the ravine, make sure that rockslide did its job. Then shadow our castaways. If I’m right, they’re heading for that beach cave Doggett told us about. Keep them safe without revealing yourselves.            "Levitz and I will loop around and investigate those gunshots," he added, rising to his feet. "We’ll meet up with you at that cave. Good hunting, Marines!"            The two younger men swiftly vanished down the hillside. Kenny cast one more admiring glance at the ravine’s settling dust, and chuckled. "C’mon, Levitz," he urged, "let’s go find us some more perps, and trigger our own rockslide!" • • • • • •           "What was that?" Alexander Stanwick spun around and stared into the thick trees, horrified, as gunshots echoed down the beach.            Doggett recognized those distinctive reports. Someone was firing a high-caliber handgun in rapid succession.            It wasn’t the Marines; they were all equipped with precision-fire rifles. That left one of three choices: assassins were firing at the unarmed castaways, his missing partners were firing at the assassins, or they were firing at each other. Either way, someone was likely to get killed.            He choked back a powerful impulse to dash down the long, curving beach. Kenny had left Monica and him behind to protect Senator Kensington and Alexander Stanwick. No matter how much he yearned to join the fight, his primary responsibility was clear.            "Nothing," he lied, rising to his feet. "Branches hitting together, probably."            Kensington leveled a hard glare in his direction. "Bullshit," he grated. "I know trouble when I hear it. And there is no way I’m staying tamely here in the shadows when Penny’s in trouble!"            Stanwick was already shoving his borrowed gun into its holster. "You can stay here and guard the raft if you want," he crisply informed Doggett. "I’ll answer to your Marines myself--after I’ve made sure that my son is safe."            Their continued safety took precedence over watching the raft. Doggett and Reyes exchanged glances, briefly weighed their choices, then slung their M-16's over their shoulders. "All right. Those gunshots could have been a deliberate feint, to draw us out of cover. And we’ll do Max and Penny no good if we walk right into a trap. So we’ll go slowly and cautiously," Doggett ordered. "You’ll follow my lead at all times. Understood?"            Stanwick looked rebellious, but Kensington slowly nodded. "Agent Doggett’s right," he warned the fuming millionaire. "Listen, the gunshots have stopped. Whatever’s happened is already over. We’ll only start them firing again if we go charging in like crazed madmen."            "That’s right." Doggett kicked leaves over the roiled sand where he’d been kneeling, and motioned for them to hurry. "Come on, let’s go."            Yet before they’d ventured more than a few yards from their hiding place, deep rumbling from somewhere up the mountainside jolted them to an abrupt halt. Dust was roiling through the humid air, dimming the thick green foliage overhead. He carefully scanned the steep hillside, but saw no signs of movement.            "Rockslide," he murmured, meeting Monica’s worried gaze. "Kenny must have set it off."            Senator Kensington slowly shook his head as they crouched in the scraggly weeds, motionless. "Then there are assassins here," he breathed. "I’d hoped it was just another of his schemes, to bring us here for his own benefit!"            Stanwick scowled at his longtime friend. "Who?" he demanded, his accented voice sharp with angry suspicion.            "The same damned bastard who killed my wife!" Kensington snarled, baring his teeth in a feral snarl. "He’s responsible for this somehow, no matter what he told Agent Skinner!"            Doggett and Reyes both motioned them to silence. "Hold your positions," Reyes commanded. "If Hewitt’s rockslide didn’t take down our enemies, they’re still out there. And they’ll be heading this way, to escape his attack. We move, and they’ll cut us down before we can even aim our weapons."            "But..."            Doggett spun around, his blue eyes blazing with fury. "Need I remind you, we are breaking orders!" he grated. "Let’s not get shot while we’re at it! Understood?"            A reluctant smile quirked Kensington’s lips, and his tensed muscles slowly relaxed. "Understood. How much longer will we have to wait here?" he urged.            Doggett glared up at the lowering sun. "Not one minute longer than we absolutely have to. Kenny’s fire team is equipped with concussion grenades and sniper rifles. If we don’t see or hear anything within the next five minutes, I think we can safely assume that their rockslide resolved the situation, and we’ll move on."            Neither of his companions liked the necessity--but even Stanwick recognized the logic in his terse command. Sighing, they grimly nodded, and settled down to wait. • • • • • •           Reuben gestured sharply with one hand as Esther gleefully scrambled to her feet a few yards above him. "Stay down a little longer," he warned in a muted undertone. "That noise could bring more of ’em running."            Esther reluctantly huddled in the low bushes again, and stared down into the ravine. Nothing moved as the dust slowly settled.            "We got them, didn’t we, Reuben?" she whispered, her dark eyes gleaming with vindictive pleasure. "Both of them!"            Her husband slowly nodded. "I think so. But there could be others nearby. Can’t be too careful. So we’ll move slow and quiet until we’re well away from here."            Puzzled, he peered down into the narrow rock-strewn gorge. What had caused that huge explosion of rocks? Esther had helped him push two big ones into position--but at best, those would have only triggered a few others in their downward tumble. It was almost, he thought with a wondering frown, like someone had fired a half-stick of dynamite under their feet!            Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice. Either his guardian angel was working overtime, or someone else was definitely looking out for them.            Huge fish that practically begged to be caught, fruit that was three times its normal size, fizzy water that cured cuts and scrapes, tight tunnels that seemed to widen just when you needed to get through. He was starting to wonder about this innocent-looking island.            Esther cautiously followed on silent feet as he crept away from the battered ravine. She was so proud of Reuben--his clever plan had worked just perfectly, catching those nasty killers unaware! Served them right, for trying to hurt everyone!            Suddenly she hesitated, and glanced back over her shoulder. She’d swear she heard a stealthy noise somewhere behind them...            Reuben froze in his tracks, and pressed her into the shelter of a large palm tree. "What’s wrong?" he hissed, glancing anxiously around.            "I thought I heard something, back there," she whispered, pointing back over her broad shoulder. "Like someone was following us."            Reuben peered back the way they’d come, but the vast forest was still and quiet. Too quiet, maybe. Because their rockslide had frightened all the birds away--or were more assassins lurking nearby?            "I don’t see anything," he finally murmured. "C’mon, let’s get going. Max and Penny need us at the cave."