Parnell chuckled quietly to himself.
‘Something funny, Ian?’ Roe asked, looking up from her laptop. An hour ago, she’d given up on trying to work during the long flight from London to Santo Domingo. Her computer screen now displayed a half-played game of solitaire.
‘I was just thinking that if one of us had acquired Mr Cole’s device a few years ago, we might never have met.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Ian. We move in the same circles. I’m sure we would have bumped into each other at some point or another.’
‘Quite right,’ Parnell replied, amused at her double entendre.
A smile crossed Roe’s face as she thought about the first time she’d met British business consultant Ian Parnell. His light brown hair had been a little longer than it was now, and in place of the Savile Row suit and the Burberry shirt that was tailored so well to his lean five-ten body, he had worn a suit of black Gore-Tex then.
Five years ago, Alex Roe had been hired by a corporate client to acquire technology from a German competitor. The technology had to do with methods of very precise measurement, and the German competitor was apparently able to size very small things with greater accuracy than was her client. She’d entered the German firm’s research facility late one night, with the cleaning crew, and set out to locate the design documents relating to this device. While carefully negotiating a darkened room to avoid a night guard, Roe quite literally bumped into Parnell. Both quickly realized that they were working on the same assignment and decided to pool their resources and charge the client double. Since then, they had worked together on a variety of interesting and profitable projects.
The flight attendant arrived with a small bottle of champagne and two glasses.
‘A toast,’ Parnell offered, tapping the rim of Roe’s glass with his. ‘To the Holy Grail.’
‘Why the Holy Grail, Ian?’ Roe asked before sipping the effervescent beverage.
‘It’s what you’ve discovered, the Holy Grail of our profession. We are on the brink of acquiring a skeleton key, one that can unlock storehouses of information around the world.’
Their flight arrived in Santo Domingo in the late afternoon and, after clearing Dominican Customs and Immigration, they boarded a private helicopter for a short flight to Barahona. Parnell worked hard and he liked to enjoy the fruits of his labor; being whisked over the Dominican capital was one of life’s simple pleasures.
Roe soaked in the tropical atmosphere with delight as the helicopter raced westward over the sandy shoreline. Their destination was an exclusive resort that offered numerous amenities to its guests, including secluded beaches, all manner of water sports, five-star dining, and excellent accommodations. While these were enjoyable, the resort also met their far more crucial needs for privacy and flawless digital communication.
Bellhops collected their bags from the helicopter, hustling to beat the new guests to their rooms. The resort catered to wealthy tourists and the management frowned on anything less than impeccable service from its employees. Praise by a guest meant an additional bonus in the next pay envelope, and each employee worked hard to shine in front of the guests. Poor service-or worse, rude behavior-could result in disciplinary action ranging from a reprimand to job termination. With a long waiting list for job openings, the staff at Las Brisas rarely did anything to jeopardize their employment.
A woman in her mid-thirties with flowing black hair and a perfect figure stood waiting for them as they walked to the edge of the helipad.
‘Senor Parnell, Senorita Roe,’ she said with a warm smile, ‘welcome to Las Brisas. I am Delisa Santiago, the resort manager. If there is anything we can do to make your stay here more pleasant, please let me know.’
‘Ms Santiago,’ Parnell replied, ‘if Las Brisas lives up to its reputation, I’m certain that my associate and I will enjoy our holiday immensely.’
The manager pointed out items of interest along the walk to their bungalows. The resort’s lobby and walkways were decorated with various objects d’art, ranging from pre-Columbian to contemporary, gathered from around the Caribbean.
Mayan statuary was mixed in with islander masks and jewelry; artifacts of peace and war, of life and death, added a unique dimension to the resort. Objects that had once helped a community of people know the gods they worshiped and understand their place in creation had become decorations in a tropical playground for the wealthy.
Even though they’d made reservations only a week ago, Parnell had little trouble arranging two bungalows near the beach. Those holding the original reservations were provided accommodations elsewhere, with the management’s sincere apologies for ‘double-booking’ the room.
Both bungalows were identical in layout-each offering its occupant an entertaining area, a kitchenette and bar, a guest bedroom and bath, and a full master bedroom and bath with an ocean-view terrace. In looking about the rooms, Roe noticed that her luggage had already been delivered and set inside the walk-in closet. She found her toiletries and decided to cleanse the long flight from her body.
It seemed as if only seconds had passed when Roe heard a knock at the bathroom door. She turned the shower off and wrapped a hotel robe around her dripping body. Opening the door cautiously, she discovered Parnell standing at the bar, mixing a drink.
‘Ready for dinner?’ he asked lightly.
‘Not quite, but give me a couple of minutes. How’d you get in, anyway?’
Parnell fingered the gray plastic card key in his hand. ‘The manager, a wonderful woman, configured the keys to work on both of our suites. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I made a drink while I waited.’
‘Rather presumptuous of you, Ian. Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a bit.’
Roe quickly blow-dried her shoulder-length brown hair. After she finished up in the bathroom, she selected a lightly colored cotton dress that appealed to her sense of style and tropical comfort.
‘When is Cole due to arrive?’ Parnell asked as he took another sip of his gin and tonic.
‘Around six, which leaves us about a half hour to kill.’
‘We could have a drink here or head to the dining room.’
‘I cast my vote for the dining room. I’m starved.’ Roe adjusted her dress in the mirror and mentally declared herself presentable. ‘Not to knock British Airways, but airline food is still airline food. We can leave word at the front desk for him to join us once he arrives.’
‘Very well,’ Parnell tossed back the remainder of his drink. ‘You know, I must admit that I’m rather excited to meet this Cole fellow. If everything you’ve told me is true, we may have found ourselves a golden goose.’
‘Hello, Michael,’ Roe said as Cole entered the restaurant lobby. Cole looked tan and rested. He wore a light cotton sweater over a golf shirt and a pair of khaki trousers. Slung from his shoulder was a small briefcase containing his laptop computer.
‘Hello, Alex. This is a nice place.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Roe replied; then she turned to Parnell. ‘Ian, this is Michael Cole.’
Parnell held his hand out and clasped Cole’s. Cole’s grip was firm, but not punishing. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you finally. Alex has spoken very highly of you and your work.’
‘Thank you. She’s told me a little about you, but I’d like to hear more.’
‘Well, that’s what tonight is about, a proper introduction.’
The tuxedo-clad maitre d’approached. ‘Your table is ready,’ he announced in lightly accented English. ‘If you will please follow me.’
They were seated at a circular table near a large plateglass window with a view of the bay. The spectacular panorama caused all three to pause for a moment to take it all in.
‘If you think this is nice,’ Cole offered, ‘wait until you see the sunset.’
They took their seats at the table; Cole and Parnell sat opposite each other, with Roe in between. She recognized that, as this was their first meeting, her dining companions were sizing each other up. A waiter took their drink orders while another server filled their water glasses.
‘So, Michael, how has your holiday been?’
‘Great. Yesterday, I dove on a wreck of the Conde de Tolosa, up near Samana Bay. It was indescribable.’
‘Alex and I both do a little diving, don’t we?’
‘I’m not in Michael’s league, Ian,’ Roe added coyly. ‘I only dive in warm, tropical waters.’
‘Say,’ Parnell said brightly, ‘I’ve chartered a boat from the marina for the day after Christmas. Alex and I were
