Temporarily blinded by the bright light, Austin ducked low over the handlebars, knowing that his reaction came too late. He had hoped to get close to the barge before being discovered. Even the shortest glimpse of his Caucasian features and pale hair would have identified him as a stranger, and by definition, as the enemy. He put the Jet Ski into a sharp turn that kicked up a wall of foam. The light found them within seconds. Austin swerved in the opposite direction, not knowing how long he could keep up the water acrobatics, or even if the slalom turns would do any good. He yelled over his shoulder.

“Can you douse that light?”

“Keep this thing steady and I will,” Zavala shouted back.

Austin obliged by slowing the Jet Ski and putting it broadside to the catamaran. He knew he was giving those on board an easy shot but felt he had to risk it. Zavala raised his shotgun to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The gun boomed. The light stayed on, and the beam found them again. Ears still ringing from the first blast, Austin felt rather than heard the second shot. The light blinked out.

The men on the boat broke out their flashlights. Soon, thin beams probed the darkness, and Austin could hear the rattle and snap of small-arms fire. By then, he was outside the range of the lights, keep- ing the Jet Ski at a low speed so its wake wouldn't be so obvious. They could hear the bullets ripping up nearby sections of water. The cata- maran had pulled anchor and was moving again.

Austin was certain that the encounter had not delayed the evil task of those on board, but only hastened it. He suspected that if he tried to pull the boat over like a traffic cop, he and Zavala would end up with more holes than a sieve. Precious seconds went by as he scoured his brains. He recalled what Ben had said about the cata- maran, and an idea came to him. He outlined his plan to Zavala. 'I'm starting to worry,“ Zavala said. 'I don't blame you. I know it's risky.”

'You don't understand. I like the plan. That's what worries me.“ 'I'll make an appointment with a NUMA shrink when we get back. See if you can soften up the opposition in the meantime.”

Zavala nodded and leveled his shotgun at a figure of a man who had the bad judgment to stand where he was silhouetted by the run- ning lights. The shotgun thundered and the man threw his arms up and disappeared from view like a duck in a shooting gallery.