Dan opened his eyes. The room was still dim, the windows in their room glowing with the ruddy red of the early morning sun. Tasha was curled up with her back against him, her breathing slow and regular. He sighed deeply. He’d like another go at her this morning, to redeem his honor, but they didn’t have the time.

Last night, he’d gone down in the third round as she rode him like a bucking bronco. He thought he’d had plenty of time to cool his ardor as they bathed, but when she got him in the bed, she’d fucked him until he exploded. They’d started out with him taking her from behind, the first time he’d done that, but watching her firm ass as his cock slid into her heated him up too much, so they switched to her being on top. That was even worse. Watching her passions play across her face and the way her luscious breasts swung and moved had been his undoing. He’d fought it to the bitter end, but she’d ground him down until he simply couldn’t hold out anymore.

In the seconds before he cried out his completion, he’d been disappointed she hadn’t climaxed. After his orgasm had passed, he’d made gentle love to her as they touched and kissed softly until he’d begun to soften. He wanted to finish her with his mouth, but she had brushed it aside to cuddle and had seemed tremendously pleased that she’d finally broken him.

As carefully as possible, he slipped his arm out from under her pillow. He needed another bath to wash off the sweat from last night. She was still sleeping as he exited the bathroom. He smiled. Lying in bed, sleep tossed, her mouth slightly open, he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Since she’d learned his story, especially when she was in his arms, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt since Gretchen. It had only been a few days since they’d become lovers, but he could already feel the guilt of what happened in Mexico losing its grip on him. They had talked several times about what had happened, both to him and to her, since he’d taken her into his confidence. She knew what he was going through, she hadn’t condemned him, and her steadfast refusal to allow him to accept the blame was beginning to heal him. He only hoped he was doing the same for her.

He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her lips softly. “Tasha. Time to get up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He smiled. “We have work to do. If you want a bath, I’ll go get us breakfast.”

She groaned, low and deep, then rolled over to her back, her eyes blinking slowly. “Yeah, okay. But you have to give me a proper good-morning kiss first.”

It was just after eight when they pulled to a stop in MPE’s lot. They didn’t have a lot of time to get this done, but like always, he would simply follow Tasha’s lead.

“We don’t have time to be subtle,” she said as they walked to the door. “It’s going to get ugly, so be prepared to run.” He opened the door and she stepped into the office.

Today she was a blonde. So far, he’d seen her as a brunette, a raven-haired beauty, and now a blonde. She looked terrific with her short blonde wig, his second favorite look for her, but nothing could compete with her natural red hair. He resisted the temptation to scratch at his own blond wig and would be glad when he didn’t have to wear one anymore.

“I’d like to speak to whoever is in charge of renting the mobile generators,” Tasha said as she stopped at the desk where the pretty woman with large, dark eyes was sitting.

“That would be Mr. Kambuntu. Please, have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here. Your name, please?”

“Carol. Carol Whembly.”

“Please have a seat Ms. Whembly, and Mr. Kambuntu will be right with you.”

They sat down in the indicated chairs. “He’d better be quick or we’ll looking for him,” she muttered under her breath.

A few minutes later, a fat man with a quick smile appeared. “I’m Jonathan Kambuntu. How may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to you about a generator you rented,” Tasha said as she rose. “This would be best discussed in private.”

Jonathan’s smile began to fade. “Yes, of course. This way, please.”

They entered his office, and Dan took up his position by the door. The only difference between him now and when he pretended to be a Russian thug was he wasn’t wearing a suit and Tasha spoke in her normal voice. Jonathan sat down at his desk.

“Now, how may I help you?”

“I want to know where General Yessa Kangka took the generator you rented to him. The one without any record of it being rented.”

Dan saw fear play across Jonathan’s face. If he saw it, there was no way Tasha could miss it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tasha stood and leaned across Kambuntu’s desk. “I don’t have time for you to fuck me around. You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’ll have my associate put a bullet in your head, got it? Now, where did Kangka take the generator?”

“I haven’t rented a—”

“Kill him,” she growled with a jerk of her head.

He stepped forward as he drew his weapon from under his shirt. There was no way he would shoot this guy. Not yet. They didn’t know if he was even guilty of anything. But Jonathan didn’t have to know that. He placed his weapon to the man’s temple and cocked it. He didn’t have to cock it as it was a double action, but doing so gave the man something else to think about.

“Wait!” the man cried as a stain appeared in his crotch.

Dan held the gun tight to the man’s head but kept his finger off the trigger, just in case Jonathan jerked.

“You have something to say?” Tasha asked.

“I didn’t rent a generator to anyone named Kangka, but I did rent one to someone who paid cash and told me to not record it as rented. Two, actually.”

“Who was the man?”

“I don’t know. I swear. He didn’t give me a name.”

“Does he drive a silver Mercedes?”

“Yes! That’s him. He paid for six months, in advance, at double the rate! Then he came back this week and rented a second one. Same terms. Please, that’s all I know.”

“Where did you take them?”

“Nowhere. Someone came and picked them up.”

“How?”

“They’re both 62kw units, mounted on a trailer. They can be pulled by a truck.”

“You didn’t think this was a little suspicious?”

Jonathan nodded. “Yes, but he was paying under the table, in cash. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t think it would hurt anything. It’s only a generator. I’m sorry. I swear, I won’t do it again. Who are you people?”

Dan saw Tasha glance at him and he pulled the weapon slowly away from Jonathan’s temple.

“We’re the people who make sure people like you don’t try to hide income,” she said. “You better claim this on your taxes or we’ll be back.” Jonathan nodded frantically. She plucked a pen from a holder and scribbled a number on a piece of paper. “If the man comes back, don’t tell him we were here but call this number. We want to have a word with him.”

Jonathan again nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes. Anything you say.”

They turned and walked out. The interview had only taken fifteen minutes. They still had plenty of time to make the tour.

“We’re with the IRS now?” he asked with a chuckle as they pulled away.

She grinned. “After he thinks about it for a couple of minutes, he’ll realize we were probably lying, but I still think he’ll do what we said. You scared him so badly he pissed his pants.”

“I noticed.”

“You make a good heavy.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

She grinned. “Women do like the bad boys. It turns me on when you get all tall, dark, and silent.”

He snorted at her teasing. “Whose number did you give him?”

“Mine.”

“Are we going to take the tour?”

She shrugged. “I guess. The trail is a dead end until Kambuntu calls.”

“What if he calls while were in the middle of nowhere?”

“Then we’re fucked. But what if he doesn’t call and we don’t go? Bruanwa Ecotours was where the lab equipment went, so we need to run that down too. Hopefully, something will come up because we’re running out of time.”

On the way to Bruanwa Ecotours, they tossed their wigs. They’d booked the tour as Daniel and Laura Connolly using their own appearances. It wouldn’t do to show up looking like someone else. They pulled to a stop in the parking lot, and Dan pulled their bags out of the hatch of the car.

“Dan,” Tasha hissed, nudging him in the ribs.

He turned to look where she was staring and watched as a large generator with a green lightning bolt in a circle with MPE written underneath was swung over the boat.

“Looks like we might have found the off-the-books generator,” he said.

She smiled. “I think we’re onto something on this tour. Let’s go.”

They walked toward what had to be the Hangula Queen. She was a large, wide vessel, but handsome in her brilliant black and white paint scheme. She was obviously old but had either been meticulously maintained or freshly restored.

“Are you here for the tour?” a young man decked out in a white sailor’s uniform asked as they approached.

“We sure are!” Tasha gushed, her Alabama accent in place.

“Your names, please.”

“Dan and Laura Connolly,” Dan replied.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Connolly. You’re a little early, but we’ll get you settled in as soon as we finish loading.”

“I thought this was a cruise ship,” Dan said, nodding as the deck crane lowered the generator out of sight into the hold.

“Yes, sir, it is. The Queen is a converted freighter, but in our Premier Cabin, you will be comfortable. While the Queen carries mostly passengers now, she can still carry a little cargo. Sometimes the Captain will haul cargo up river. But be assured, it won’t affect your journey in the slightest.”

“What kind of cargo do you haul?” Tasha asked.

The porter shrugged. “It varies. Nothing bulk because it takes too long to load and unload. Mostly pallets of supplies for villages.”

“Well, so long as it doesn’t affect us getting to see all the animals, I guess we won’t mind,” Tasha said with a grin.

“No ma’am. You won’t even notice. The cargo will be unloaded while you are out on your mini-excursions.”

The porter turned his attention to another couple as they approached, checking their names against the passenger manifest.

“This is it,” Tasha whispered. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah. But how are we going to follow the generator when they unload it? For that matter, how will we even know when they unload it if we’re gone on some damned tour?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.”

They stood around, watching as various items were loaded into the ship and chatting with other passengers, keeping an eye on what was going into the hold. Dan and Tasha were by far the youngest couple aboard, the next youngest couple appearing to be in their mid-forties, about fifteen years their senior. The rest of the passengers appeared to be in their late fifties and early sixties. They were also the only Americans. The rest of the passengers were from Italy, England, or France.

“Here you go, Mr. and Mrs. Connolly,” the porter who had greeted them on the dock said as he opened a door and stepped in, their bags in his hands.

“Thank you, Phillip,” Dan said, slipping the man a hundred Marand note as a tip. He wanted Phillip eager to please.

Phillip didn’t look at the bill, but he’d remember the large tip later. “Thank you, sir.”

“Not bad,” Tasha murmured as she looked around.

Their room was on the upper deck, just below the pilot house. It had obviously been designed for use as something else but had been converted into a stateroom. It extended the full width of the ship, so they had large windows on both sides, both of which were open to allow a cooling breeze to pass through. The room was wide but not deep, the space making up the main room with a bed, a small sitting area, and a small private bath. As they unpacked they heard the thrum of heavy diesels starting, then a moment later, cool air began to waft from a vent.

“Thank God!” Dan said as he closed the windows.

The room was uncomfortably warm, but with the windows closed and the air-conditioning working, the room began to cool quickly.

“Shall we explore?” Dan asked once they were finished unpacking.

Tasha smiled. “Yes! Let’s.”

They spent the next hour reconnoitering the boat, learning their way around in case they had to do a little snooping or evade anyone. What they did learn was they had by far the largest and nicest accommodations aboard the ship. Passenger rooms were along the sides of the boat, with crew quarters down the center. The rooms they could be peeked into as they wandered showed tiny rooms with bunks that folded into the wall. With the bunks down, there was barely enough room to stand in the room with your back against the opposite wall. The rooms were suitable for sleeping and, because the beds were so narrow, little else. There were four other larger rooms, but like the others, when the bed was down, there was no room for anything else. At least the bed was big enough for two to sleep in, but none of the cabins, save theirs, had a private bath.

Once they were comfortable they’d seen all they could, they returned to their room and began to plan.