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to finesse the man's face into a full face image.
    "That's him," Jake said. "Now what?"
    "Now comes the tricky part." Matt explained. "I'll land Skeeter on his back collar for a moment." The view on the screen showed the camera sweeping around the target's head and when it was lined up with the back of the man's head, it landed on the back of a pale blue collar. "One limitation of Skeeter's camera is the inability to sweep. We can only see straight ahead. And unfortunately Skeeter weighs a little more than a real mosquito, so when I come off his collar and land on his neck, he'll feel something and try to swat it. I have to land, pull a sample, and get out of there before Skeeter gets squashed."
    "Has that ever happened?"
    "Once," Matt admitted. "Knocked Skeeter to the ground. I was able to locate him later though and retrieve the sample."
    "What's next? Land on his neck?"
    "No. That's how I got caught. I've found the best place to land is behind the earlobe."
    "Behind the ear?" Jake asked. "Won't he hear it?"
    "Possibly, but he won't hit himself in the ear. The tendency is to just wave a hand by the ear and then pull it away. When he pulls his hand away, I'll fly Skeeter out of there."
    "Do it," Jake said.
    "Extending the needle…and here we go." The monitor showed movement toward the man's right ear. The bottom of the ear lobe came into view then filled the screen. "Extracting a sample…retracting the needle, now wait. One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three. Now, let's get him out of there."
    As the image pulled away, the target's hand was seen waving in front of the drone's camera. Then the image cleared the golf cart.
    "Piece of cake," Matt said.
    "Let me see his face again."
    The image on the monitor rotated around and the target's face came into view as Matt maneuvered Skeeter in front of the golf cart.
    Senator Richard Boden.
    "Nicely done, Matt. Now get Skeeter out of there."
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    A bigail Love lay on a beach towel by the pool, her mind running through her mental checklist of things she had to do to prepare for the hit on Martin and Teresa Kingsley. She was staying in a room on the fourth floor of the East Tower and Kingsley and his wife were on the seventh floor of the West Tower. Guests were only allowed access to the building they were staying in unless accompanied by an owner or guest of the adjacent tower. The only common areas were by the pool and at the grill. Logistically an issue, but one for which she had accounted.
    She wore big tortoise shell sunglasses with UV lenses to protect her eyes from the harsh Caribbean sun. She studied the rooftops and balconies; they might be her only choice.
    A shadow blocked the sun from her face and she turned her head to see who it was.
    "Well, hello again," Teresa Kingsley said.
    "I see they let you inside." Love pulled her glasses on top of her head and squinted at the bright sun. Kingsley was tall and thin. She wore a sheer white tunic revealing a black bikini underneath. Her long dark hair and brown eyes accentuated her good looks. For a woman of fifty-four, Love thought Teresa Kingsley looked spectacular.
    "Yes. I had the guard call the manager, he vouched for me." She pointed at the chair next to Love. "Mind if I join you?"
    "Not at all." Love smiled. "My pleasure."
    "Thank you." Kingsley extended her hand. "Teresa Kingsley."
    "Abigail Love." She grabbed Kingsley's hand. "My friends call me Abby."
    "Abby, nice to meet you." Kingsley pulled her tunic over her head and spread the towel across the chair. Without the tunic, Teresa Kingsley looked even more spectacular than Love originally thought. Her French-cut bikini bottom accentuated her already long, tan legs.
    Kingsley pulled a bottle of tanning oil out of her bag and squirted some on her legs and started rubbing it in. "How long have you owned here?"
    "I don't own a unit here. A friend of mine is letting me stay here for a few days." Love pointed to the East Tower. "I'm over there."
    "My husband,