“Where are you?” the Doctor said without preamble.

“I’ve just finished the business in Colombia. Another success.”

“Good. I’ve got another job for you.”

“I’m planning to go to Mexico tomorrow to meet with one of the cartel members.”

“It can wait. There’s a bigger problem. An unusual ship. It’s called the Oregon. They’ve got some information that could damage our whole operation, and they don’t even know it.”

“If they don’t know it, why is that a problem?”

“Because it’s only a matter of time before they do know. Can you have an assassination squad in Jamaica by tomorrow?”

Montego Bay, Jamaica

A light breeze ruffled the palm fronds above the outdoor section of the Sunset Cliff Spa. The idyllic setting had been carefully chosen by the resort to take advantage of the spectacular view of the Caribbean Sea. Tourists frolicked along the picturesque beach that stretched from the twenty-foot-high cliffs that gave the resort its name. During the day, white canvas tents were erected atop the grassy cliff so that guests could receive an open-air massage free from the prying eyes of passersby. Before dusk, the tents were removed, giving guests and sightseers an unobstructed view of the sun’s red and orange hues as it dipped below the horizon.

Linda relaxed on a chaise longue and sipped from a champagne flute as a pedicurist attended to her toes. Julia sat next to her with her own dedicated attendant. The two of them had been the first ones off the Oregon when it docked in Montego Bay that morning. They were both swaddled in plush white robes.

“It has been forever since I’ve had one of these,” Linda said, gesturing at the pedicurist’s work.

Julia grinned at her. “Aren’t you glad I talked you into it?”

“I could get used to this.” Although the Oregon was equipped with a Jacuzzi hot tub and a sauna, it just wasn’t the same as a full-service spa.

“We should ask Juan to hire a dedicated nail technician for the shipboard mani-pedis,” Julia said. “As the resident doctor, I know personally that some of the guys could sure use one. Their nails are disgusting.”

“Can you imagine Maurice giving a mani-pedi?”

They both laughed until they cried at the thought of the distinguished steward buffing Franklin Lincoln’s nails. The fit of giggles continued until the pedicurists had finished their work and took away their kits.

“I’ll admit you were right for us to go windsurfing first,” Linda said, rotating her sore shoulder. “I’m looking forward to a good massage.”

“And I’ll admit I had fun. But this is better.”

An attendant returned to escort them to the tents. Linda and Julia followed her to the two bays where they would get their massages. Light classical music drifted from hidden speakers, easily heard now that they were far from the tourists at the beach. Each was open to the ocean, and Linda could hear the waves crashing against the rocks below them. Privacy between the bays was provided by a white canvas drape. None of the tents were currently occupied.

The attendant said that their masseuses would be along in a few minutes and asked them to lay facedown on the tables. She told them there was a coatrack in each bay for their robes and left.

“You know,” Julia said, “if they’re going to be a few minutes, I might go for a bit more champagne to tide me over.”

“Allow me,” Linda said, taking her glass. “I could use another, too.”

While Julia entered the tent on the end, Linda turned to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the movement of shadows against the white canvas. Not one shadow but two.

Someone was already in the tent with Julia. A muffled whimper confirmed that it wasn’t the masseuse.

Linda’s senses went on full alert. She tossed the glasses to the grass and flung the canvas aside to see a man dressed in black holding his hand over Julia’s mouth and withdrawing a knife from his hip sheath.

Acting on instinct and relying on the weekly self-defense training everyone on the Oregon was required to take no matter their position, Linda grabbed the bamboo coatrack and swung it like a kendo stick. The assailant saw her at the last instant and released Julia to keep from being knocked out by the vicious blow, but even though he was able to get a hand up, the rack made solid contact with his shoulder.

“Get help!” Linda yelled. But before Julia could run, a second attacker rushed through from the adjoining bay, where he must have been waiting for Linda. He dived across the massage table and grasped Julia’s ponytail. Linda shoved the coatrack in his gut and he grunted, let go of the ponytail, and dropped his knife, a mean-looking weapon with a serrated edge.

Julia teetered backward and pulled the massage table’s headrest free in her attempt to keep from falling. She landed hard but still held on to the padded headrest, its long, thin steel mounting pins facing out.

The second assailant lunged for Julia, but he was still unbalanced from the blow to his stomach. Linda tripped him and he went down in Julia’s direction. He landed on her and immediately went limp. One of the mounting pins was poking out of his side, the other was lodged deeply in his chest.

Before Linda could help Julia up, she felt her arms pinned against her sides in a bear hug. The assailant wrestled her across the tent toward the cliff, intent on casting her onto the rocks below. She took a deep breath to fight the instinctual panic that threatened to consume her and her mind flashed back to her training.

The man was too tall for her, so she couldn’t slam her head back and crush his nose with her skull. Instead, she shifted her weight and stepped to the side, freeing her fist to strike down at his crotch. Just with the strength of her triceps, she was able to connect with a devastating blow.

The attacker let go, and Linda used the opportunity to smash her elbow into his chin. His head flew upward, spittle flying. Linda kicked him in the chest, and his momentum took him tumbling over the side. She ran to the edge and saw his dead body sprawled across the jagged volcanic rocks, the torso submerged in the water. A small boat bobbed in the cove below.

Linda returned to the tent to find Julia struggling to crawl out from under the other corpse. Linda pushed it aside and helped her up.

“Are you all right?” Linda asked.

Julia looked shaken but nodded. “How about you?”

“Nothing a massage wouldn’t fix.”

“I don’t think we should wait around for one.”

“Me neither. Let’s toss this guy over the cliff, too. We don’t want to be answering a lot of questions from the local police.”

Linda searched the man’s pockets and found only a small amount of cash and a cell phone. Julia pulled the massage table headrest from his torso and they hauled the body to the cliff, where they threw it over. It came to rest next to the other one. By the time the police made sense of the strange configuration, they’d be long gone.

“What just happened?” Julia asked, folding the bloody headrest in a towel and tucking it under her robe.

“This was no random attack,” Linda said. “We were targeted.”

“For what? All our belongings are in the lockers.”

“Exactly. This seems like an assassination attempt. They wanted to do it very quietly, so they anchored their boat down there and climbed up to wait for us.”

“What in the world . . . ?”