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a
lot more to contend with at the edge, like plates moving against each other. It
can be a lot more unstable, kind of like being on the frontier of the Wild
West.” He grinned and made a shooting gesture with his hand.
    “But volcanoes in
Hawaii still erupt.”
    “Hell yeah they do.
Kilauea is going right now. Has been for years. People don’t realize that
eruptions can last for decades. Not all of the peaks blow their tops in grand
fashion. A lot of them are low-grade oozers. That’s what I call ‘em.”
    “So you don’t think the
two are connected, what happened to us near Manado and what’s going on at Mauna
Loa?”
    “Anything is possible.
But statistically, it’s just a coincidence. What happened back there was a
freak occurrence. I’m sure we’ll be perfectly fine.”

 
     

     
     
     
    “P aul, wake up. We’re almost there.”
    Cassidy gently shook my
shoulder until I opened my eyes, then she dropped back into the seat across
from me.
    “I wasn’t expecting to
sleep.”
    “All that spying on me
must have worn you out.”
    “You know, that must
have been it.”
    She started throwing
balled-up napkins at Flint, who was still sleeping, as I walked up to the
cockpit. Pierre was focused on a distant speck of land in the ocean ahead. It
grew steadily larger as we approached.
    “Everything okay up
here?” I asked.
    Without looking away
from the window, he pointed at the headset in the copilot’s seat. I put it on
and sat down, admiring the walnut inlay surrounding the complicated controls
before me.
    “Everything is fine,”
he said. “We will land shortly, but look…”
    He gripped the plane’s
steering column and slowly tilted us a few degrees to the right of our
destination. I was about to ask what he was doing when the first sign of gray
appeared in the sky. As the plane banked to the side, my view was filled with
an enormous thunderhead; a bulbous mass of dark cloud, the front of which was
expanding toward Hawaii.
    “What is that?” I asked.
    Pierre tapped a button
on his dashboard and a glowing screen flicked on to show a radar scan of the
area. In the upper left was the trademark outline of the Hawaiian Islands. In
the upper right, ragged in appearance but unmistakable in shape, was the
outline of a newly-forming hurricane.
    “A monster,” said
Pierre. “Her name is Valentina, and she is predicted to make landfall in two
days.”
    “Headed right for the
islands?”
    He nodded. “Picking up
speed as she goes. Category three at the moment.”
    “Levino didn’t mention
anything to me about a storm,” I said apologetically.
    “Do not feel bad. I
would have offered to fly you anyway.”
    We sat for a moment in
silence, watching the clouds roll through the sky in slow motion. Pierre gently
eased the plane back on course.
    I said, “Can I ask you
something without offending you?”
    “We shall see.”
    “Is Pierre Jacques your
real name?”
    “But of course. Why?”
    “It’s just so
very…French.”
    He threw back his head
and laughed heartily. After he settled down, he said, “Well, then, it fits,
because I myself am very French.”
    “Did I offend you?”
    “Not at all, my friend.
My name and my heritage are sources of pride for me, so if anything, you have
given a great compliment. Je vous remercie .”
    He flipped a switch
above him and spoke to Air Traffic Control on the Big Island, clearing us for
landing. I put my headset back in the copilot’s chair and joined Cassidy and
Flint at the back of the plane to prepare for landing.
    “Did you play nice?”
asked Cass after I sat across from her.
    “I have no idea what
you’re talking about.”
    She gave me a little
half-smile that made me tingle all over. “Now that’s a first.”

 
     

     
     
     
    P ierre flew us to a private airstrip off Hilo Kona Road, a
twenty minute drive from the Mauna Loa Observatory where Roger Levino had
promised to meet us.
    I got my first glimpse
of the ancient volcano as we descended