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“Jack, I’m not too many people. I’m in charge of the largest senior group in the world. I have to protect my membership.”

Jack got up.

“I wouldn’t even know what to tell you now if I did know something. The target isn’t clear and nothing seems set in stone, it’s just what we’re hearing. Let me go to my office, and I swear to God if there’s anything that can help you, you’ll know first.”

“How bad is it?”

“Paul, I don’t know. This is early information. It may be minor.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You know you can’t.”

“I’ll be home,” Paul said. “Anything, anything at all, you have to contact me immediately.” Jack gave him a kiss on the top of the head and left the restaurant. Paul wanted to call Robert Golden—he wanted to be a hero with some secret information—but he didn’t have anything concrete and he didn’t want to be responsible for a sting going badly.

* * *

Max Leonard and Louie were in one van driving toward the port of Miami. Behind them were the four other associates. All of them were wearing uniforms that could help them pass for the retirement ship’s personnel, the same generic white uniforms that everyone from the waiters to assistant captains wore. What made the uniforms look official were the pins.

The pins had a small holographic model of The Sunset that, when first made years earlier, had been hard to duplicate. But they had never been changed and Andre, one of the men on Max’s team who was good at everything technical, easily made fakes that couldn’t be distinguished from the original.

Each night in port, from eleven P.M. to four A.M., maintenance was performed on the ship. Garbage was removed and food supplies were loaded for the next day. Twenty-five people came and went, and some of them had uniforms and others didn’t, but all had identification, which Max and his associates had also successfully duplicated.

They knew that if all six of them went on board together it would cause suspicion, but if two went with the garbage team, two went with the kitchen staff, and another two walked on board as if they belonged on the bridge, they could pull this off.

Andre, the one who built the model that Kathy Bernard had seen, knew these ships inside and out. He had the plans, he knew the nooks and crannies, and he had also worked on one for four months. He knew there were several easily opened storage rooms that people rarely used. One room, on the same floor as the infirmary, held extra medical supplies, everything from oxygen and spare beds to canned food and batteries. During the entire time Andre worked on board he never saw anyone go in that room. He even set up little traps, like leaving toilet paper on the floor just inside the door, something people would disturb if they walked in. After a week, the toilet paper was still there. So not only was this particular room viewed as safe, but it was large enough for the six of them and had food and bottled water to boot. Their plan was to board the ship in small groups and meet in this room at exactly three-thirty A.M.

The next morning at eight o’clock the ship was scheduled to move out of port and go three miles north to the berth where it would stay for the next two months. The retirement ships always overlapped each other. One would pull in while the other was nearby, ready to depart. That would allow people a day or two to mingle with their friends from other ships. The retirees always liked to see how the other groups were living—who had the cleaner pools, the better deck chairs, and the prettier women.

Max and his associates knew if the ship was tied up in port it would be difficult to accomplish their goal, but as soon as it was at sea, even if it was only going a few miles north to the permanent dock, they could execute their plan.

They were shocked at how easy it was to board. They had gone to all the trouble of trying to look like the real crew and no one, not one person, asked them for ID or anything. People who saw them smiled and walked right by. Jesus, we wasted ten grand on these pins for nothing, thought Max.

By four A.M.,