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get their briefing as a team a week later at the "farm" in Langley.
    * * *
    The Kawasaki Ninja "rice rocket" rounded the curve on the crushed oyster shell road into the marina. Daniels thought the machine was going way too fast and expected the rider to lose control. Not even close. Perfectly balanced, the machine spun as gravel erupted from the rear tire. The rider compensated and the bike straightened and ran across the grassy expanse, stopping under the wing of Daniels plane tied to the dock.
    Daniels watched the rider dismount. Obviously a she, and easy on the eyes with tight leather pants accentuating the curve of her hips. She took off the full helmet and shook her shoulder length blond hair. Green eyes, beautiful as corral in a tropical sea, serious as laser beams and cold as arctic ice, highlighted a model's face without a trace of makeup.
    The stranger slung a sports bag over her shoulder and walked to the plane. She was short, about five feet. She moved like a jungle cat with quick steps on the balls of her feet. Daniels caught himself staring.
    "What's the matter? Never seen a Ninja before?" She said as she put the bag down at her feet and stuck her hands on her hip.
    "I'm Matt Kelley," she said. No handshakes extended.
    Rollie came up beside Daniels. Before Daniels could say anything he spoke directly at Matt.
    "I think you got the wrong address honey." Daniels thought he'd always been a chauvinistic bastard.
    "Are you Richard Daniels?" she asked Rollie, her eyes locked on his.
    Rollie shook his head and nodded toward Daniels.
    "Then fuck off," she replied as she faced Daniels again.
    "Are there anymore assholes on this team?" she asked.
    "Probably. We just don't like to admit it."
    Daniels smiled and extended his hand. She returned the handshake but not the smile.
    "So how'd you get a name like Matt?" said Rollie.
    "It stands for Matilda, genius."

 
     
     
    Chapter 7

     
    Daniels' team left before sundown for a brief flight to an island he'd spotted previously, just a few miles from Big Lostman's Cay. They anchored the seaplane close to the island, waded ashore and set up camp.
    Daniels ran the team through a series of combat and live fire exercises designed to expose individual skills and weaknesses. Each member was a proven combat expert. The powers that be at the Agency had done a good job of team picking. Despite her smaller size and status as the only woman on the team, Matt held her own. She gave no slack and asked for none. Her skills with firearms were nothing less than phenomenal.
    It'd reached noontime and hot enough to raise blisters when Daniels called a break for lunch and passed out MRE's. The team sat under a bushy Cyprus as insects swarmed around them, fighting past the bug repellent slathered over every inch of skin.
    "So watcha got on the agenda for the afternoon, cap?" Rhineman asked as he scooped grayish paste from a pouch and slurped down spoonfuls before the flying critters could get to it.
    "Cover, concealment and approaches," Daniels said. "We'll see how close you can get before I spot you. I'll be firing machine gun bursts over your head to keep it interesting. You'll try to hit targets on either side of me before I can spot you."
    "You should be good at that, Kelley," Rollie said. "That's what you did in the Marines."
    "Better than you, that's for sure," she replied without looking up.
    "What do you say we make it more interesting, then. Twenty bucks per hit."
    "Bullshit. You want to make it more interesting, clean my boots if I beat you."
    "And what do I get if I win?" Rollie said. "Hey, I got it. If I win, how's about I get into your sweet little panties?"
    Rhineman whistled softly. Daniels looked at each one in turn. The insects buzzed as a slight breeze came up and something splashed loudly nearby. The corners of Matt Kelley's mouth twitched and she fixed Rollie like laser beams from glacial emerald eyes.
    "There's only one way you could do that," she said softly, eyes locked on