Joe wrapped his arms around the bundle of multicolored nylon, making sure not to tangle the lines leading to the harness. Jade stepped into the harness and put her arms through the shoulder straps. The Hawaiian checked the straps that crisscrossed her hips and chest, making sure they were all snug and secure. He patted her on the back and flashed another big grin.
"All set," he called to Joe. "Just wait until I'm back in the boat, and then let go." He ran into the water and splashed his way back to the motorboat.
Jade tugged at the harness. "I'm not sure this is such a hot idea."
"It's too late now," Joe replied. "I already paid him - and I don't think I could get you out of that thing, anyway."
Joe saw the Hawaiian climb back in the boat, and he got ready to let go of the parachute. But then he saw another boat pull up next to it. This one was a flat, sleek white speedboat. Painted on the side was a red lightning bolt. On the stern, Joe could see the name Big Deal.
Two men were on the speedboat. They shouted something across to the other boat. Joe couldn't make out the words, but he could see that the newcomers were backing up their argument with a pistol. Then the long, thick line that ran between the boat and the parachute was untied and tossed over to the more powerful speedboat.
Jade glanced nervously at him. "Joe? What's going on?"
Joe dropped the parachute and ran toward her. He heard the deep growl of the diesel engine as it roared away. He saw the slack go out of the line. The parachute billowed and rose upward.
Just as Jade was jerked off her feet and into the air, Joe leapt up and grabbed the harness. The parachute dipped slightly from the extra weight. Joe's feet brushed the sand.
"Let go!" Jade screamed. "You'll be killed!"
Joe clutched tighter. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew Jade was in danger and needed his help. Suddenly there was no ground beneath his feet. The parachute started to gain altitude rapidly.
After catching his breath, Joe looked down. The Pacific Ocean sparkled far below him already. How high had they soared? Fifty feet? A hundred? It was impossible to tell. Either way, it was too late to change his mind now.
He'd never survive the fall.
Chapter 8
The speedboat skimmed over the water, towing the parachute far from the shoreline. Joe's arms were starting to tire - the harness cut into his skin and burned the palms of his hands. He didn't know how long he could hold on, and he didn't want to find out the hard way.
"What do we do now?" Jade yelled.
With the wind rushing through his ears and the speedboat engine blaring below, Joe could barely hear her. "There's a Swiss army knife in my right front pocket," he shouted. "See if you can get it."
She reached around and managed to pull the knife out of his pocket. "Okay, I've got it. What next?"
"Cut the line!"
Jade opened the three-inch blade and stared at it. "It's going to take a while."
"I know," Joe responded. "But it's all we've got - unless you have a better idea."
Jade shook her head and started sawing at the thick nylon line. Joe twisted his head around and looked back at the island of Maui. He had his doubts that they could swim that far - and he had even bigger doubts that whoever was in the speedboat would give them a chance to find out.
He scanned the area for nearby ships. In the distance, he thought he saw a few navy battleships. They were too far away to take notice of a lone parachute, though.
The speedboat was headed in the direction of a small island. Maybe, if they got a little push from the wind, they could make it there. If they came down on dry land, Joe thought they might stand a chance of getting out of this alive.
They could run. They could hide. They could make weapons out of sticks and rocks. It wasn't much, but it was better than floundering in the water, waiting to get picked off.
"Got it!" Jade suddenly yelled.
The feeling of being dragged through the air abruptly fell away - along with the rope that splashed down into the blue water below.
The parachute started to drift downward, but the stiff trade winds were much stronger out in the open water, giving them a little extra lift and pushing them right where Joe wanted to go.
The speedboat circled underneath, like a hungry shark, waiting to see where the parachute would come down.
***
Frank had seen the speedboat pull up next to the Hawaiians' boat, but he was too far away to see what was going on. He didn't know anything was wrong until he saw Joe lunge at the parachute harness just as it lifted Jade into the air.
He ran down to the water, but the boat was already far out to sea. He watched the brightly colored parachute grow smaller in the distance. Just like that, Joe was gone as the rumble of the big diesel engine faded away. All Frank could hear then was the high-pitched whine of jet-skis, droning along the shoreline.
The two Hawaiians in the small motorboat watched in silence as the speedboat raced away. Frank waded out into the ocean, waving frantically to get their attention, but they didn't notice.
Frank swam out to the boat, grabbed hold of the gunwale, and hauled himself out of the water.
That got their attention. "What do you think you're doing?" the man clutching the wheel asked sharply, twisting to face him.
The other man moved toward Frank, fists clenched. "Crazy haoles. First you steal our para-sail ride. Now you think you can steal our boat, too?"
Frank held out his hands. Both men were stocky and muscular. Although Frank was taller than they were, he doubted that he had a weight advantage over either of them. Even if he could take them out, he didn't want to start a fight.
"You've got it all wrong, guys," Frank quickly said. "When they stole your parachute, they kidnapped my brother and a friend of ours. So crank up the engine and let's get going."
"Go where?" the skipper replied. His anger had subsided, and now he looked at Frank with mild curiosity. "You can't take a boat like this into the interisland channel. It's too rough out there."
"Yeah," the other man agreed. "Besides, what would we do even if we could catch up with them? They had guns, man. Big guns."
"You can't just sit here and do nothing!" Frank yelled. "How about the coast guard - or the navy?"
"Good luck," the skipper said. "By the time you get to a phone and cut through all the red tape, that boat will be long gone."
"Terrific," Frank muttered.
He spun around to dive back in the water and saw something lashed to the side of the boat. He had climbed in from the other side, so he hadn't noticed it before. It looked like a cross between a motorcycle and a snowmobile - except it didn't have any wheels or treads.
Frank turned back to the two Hawaiians. He pulled a soggy wallet out of his soaking wet pants. "How much do you want for the jet-ski?' he asked.
"You'll never make it on that thing," the skipper said. "We just have it in case the engine breaks down and we have to ferry people back to shore. You can't take it out in the channel."
"That's my problem," Frank snapped. "How much do you want?"
The man shrugged. "Take it. Who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and catch those jerks. If you do, just remember to bring back our parachute."
"I'll bring it back," Frank promised. "But how will I find you?"
"We'll be here," came the reply. "If we're not, just ask around for Freddie or Mike Ahina. All the locals know us."
Frank bent over the side and untied the lines that secured the jet-ski. He climbed down onto it, holding the side of the boat with one hand to keep steady. He pressed the starter and twisted the throttle on the end of the handlebar. The small engine sounded like an angry swarm of bees.
"Oh, well," Frank told himself. "It sure beats swimming in wet clothes."
Even though the engine wasn't very big, Frank discovered the jet-ski was pretty quick. It was made of lightweight materials and designed to skip across the surface of the water. That was exactly what it did. Every time Frank hit
a small wave, the jet-ski flew into the air.
It took some getting used to. It was like waterskiing and motorcycle motocross racing jumbled together. Frank almost lost it a couple times, coming down hard and wobbly on the front ski. But after a while he started shifting his weight whenever the jet-ski took off, keeping the front end up and forcing the back end down.
The water started to get choppy farther out from shore, and it was harder to control the machine. Frank knew it would get a lot worse before it got any better. The volcanic mountains of the islands acted as giant windbreaks, keeping the ocean calm along the coastline. The winds whipped the water into whitecaps out in the interisland channel, though, and that was where the speedboat had gone. So that's where Frank was going, too.
A wave smacked the jet-ski broadside. Frank fought for control. Saltwater sprayed over his face and shoulders. He couldn't jump these waves as he had the smaller ones near shore. They were too big - and getting bigger.
He tried to weave between them. This is like running a marathon in a minefield, Frank thought. Except these mines are moving.
He began to think the Hawaiians had been right - he'd never make it across the channel on the jet-ski. Dodging one wave after another meant he had to swerve off in one direction, then cut back to get on course again, only to veer off again to skirt another whitecap. His chances of catching the speedboat had been slim when he was moving in a straight line. Threading a twisted path through the rolling hills of water didn't exactly improve the odds.
Frank knew he'd never catch them this way. He was about to give up and try to make it back to Maui when he saw a bright shape flashing across the waves. It was a white speedboat, with a ragged streak of crimson on the side.
Frank looked at the red lightning bolt. He couldn't believe his luck. They were almost headed right at him. But where was the parachute? Where was Joe?
Frank pushed those questions out of his mind. One thing at a time. And the first thing, he told himself, is to get on that boat.
He aimed the jet-ski at the oncoming speedboat. Frank held his breath, waiting for them to change course to avoid him, but the speedboat cut a straight line through the water. Frank closed the gap between them. Still no reaction.
Why don't they do something? Frank wondered. Can't they see me? He glanced down at the blue-and-white jet-ski and chuckled. He was wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. Perfect camouflage against the blue ocean and the white wave crests.
It suddenly occurred to Frank that he had no idea how he was going to get on the speedboat.
they sure weren't going to stop and offer him an invitation. "I'll just have to wing it," he muttered to himself.
A wave started to rise up between Frank and his target. Frank saw his chance. He twisted the knob on the handlebar and hit the swell at full throttle. The jet-ski soared over the crest and became airborne. It hurtled toward the speedboat, but Frank could tell it was going to fall short. The combined weight of Frank and the jet-ski was too much.
So he let go of the handlebars and kicked off with his feet. The jet-ski dropped away, and Frank sailed right above the boat and thudded onto the deck, landing on his side.
There was a sharp pain in his hip, but Frank ignored it. He jumped to his feet and whirled around to face two hulking brutes. Both were wearing dark suits and sunglasses. They definitely didn't look like sailors.
They definitely didn't look Hawaiian, either. The one holding the wheel had short, light brown hair with a small bald spot in the back. He turned and gave Frank a cold, hard stare. "Get rid of him," he growled to his partner.
The second man nodded and reached into his coat, but Frank slammed his foot into the man's stomach before the gun had cleared the shoulder holster. He doubled over from the blow, and Frank's hand came down on the back of his neck with blurring speed. The man slumped to the deck.
Frank didn't stop to admire his work. The thug behind the wheel was turning, starting to make his move. Frank spun around, swinging his left leg up for a roundhouse kick. The side of Frank's foot smashed into the man's jaw. The thug's sunglasses flew off, and his head smacked the steering wheel.
Frank didn't give him a chance to fall. He pushed him up against the side rail and reached inside the man's coat. He felt cold steel and leather and pulled out a .45 automatic pistol. Frank thumbed off the safety and shoved the gun in the man's face.
"Where's my brother?" Frank rasped.
The thug sneered. "You mean the jerk with the girl?"
Frank pressed the gun against the man's skin. "The only jerk I see is the one with the barrel of a forty-five up his nose. Now, where are they? I won't ask again."
The man shrugged. "It don't make no difference anyway. There's nothing you can do. They're on Kahoolawe."
***
"What's wrong?" Joe asked. He was standing on a rocky beach, the parachute bunched up in his arms. "Those guys aren't coming after us. As soon as they saw us land here, they took off. They probably would have ripped the bottom out of that boat if they tried to bring it in here."
Jade didn't respond. She had the harness half off and was staring at a signpost stuck in the sand. Danger! it warned in big red letters. Keep Off! Beneath that was a single Hawaiian word, Kahoolawe.
"Hey," Joe said when he saw the sign. "I thought you said all the beaches in Hawaii were public. Who's this Kahoolawe guy?"
Jade turned to him. There was fear in her eyes. "That's the name of the island," she said. "The whole thing belongs to the navy."
"So we'll get arrested for trespassing on government property," Joe replied. "It's better than wrestling with sharks."
Jade shook her head. "You don't understand. Nobody comes here - not even the navy.
"They use the island only for target practice."
Chapter 9
The Big Deal raced toward Maui. Frank had the throttle wide open. Every time the boat hit a wave, the bow reared up out of the water and then crashed back down. Salt spray splashed the windshield.
Frank checked the fuel gauge. Almost empty. Barely enough to make it. If he had tried for Kahoolawe, he would have ended up stranded there with his brother and Jade. He glanced back at his two passengers, firmly tied up with the anchor line.
He pulled into the small marina in the harbor at Lahaina, ignoring the No Wake signs. He killed the engine and let the speedboat drift to the dock. He was already standing on the bow when it scraped against the pier. He jumped off and wrapped the bowline around a post.
"Hey, man!" a voice called out. "Where's our para-sail? You said you'd bring it back."
Frank turned and saw Mike Ahina, his brother Freddie behind him.
Frank nodded at the white speedboat with the red lightning bolt. "I got something almost as good," he replied. "The creeps that stole it."
Frank looked at the two hired thugs bound hand and foot on the deck of the boat. One of them was still out cold. The other was glaring back at him.
Frank turned back to the Hawaiian brothers. "Listen, could you keep an eye on those two until the cops get here? I'll call them right after I get through to Pearl Harbor."
"You know somebody at Pearl?" Freddie asked.
"No," Frank replied. "But my brother's stuck on Kahoolawe, and only the navy can get him off."
"Kahoolawe?" Freddie Ahina said. "You know what they use that island for?"
Frank nodded quickly. "Yeah, but I don't know when they plan to use it next. So I'm kind of in a hurry. Where's the nearest phone?"
Mike Ahina scowled. "You'd just be wasting your time, man. They won't call off a bombing run just because some kid calls them up and tells them to."
Frank looked at him. "You mean they're going to bomb it today?"
Freddie shrugged. "They bomb it all the time, but they've got some big exercise going on right now. Lots of battleships out there. Only thing you can know for sure - Kahoolawe's going to get a brutal pounding before it's over."
"Then I've got to get back there now!" Frank burst out.
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"I know the fastest way to get you there," Freddie said. "Let me make a call and set it up."
While Freddie Ahina was gone, his brother jumped into the speedboat to check on the two thugs. "Hey, what's this?" he called to Frank. "Looks like a picture of the girl who was with your brother."
"Let me see that," Frank said. It looked like a photocopy of a page torn out of a magazine. It was a picture of Jade all right - but she looked a few years younger. She was holding a surfboard. Standing next to her was her father, Kevin Roberts.
"Where'd you get this?" Frank asked.
"I found it on the deck," the Hawaiian responded.
***
Ten minutes later a helicopter swooped down out of the sky, hovered for a moment, then settled down gently on the end of the pier. Frank was surprised that the dock could hold all that weight, but he didn't stop to analyze it.
The door of the cockpit swung open. Frank ducked and ran over to it, the rotors whirling just a few feet over his head. He started to climb in, grabbing the door frame with both hands and stepping on the front of the skid bar.
The helicopter wobbled slightly. Frank looked down. The machine wasn't resting on the pier at all. It was hovering just a few inches above it. Frank glanced across the seat at the pilot.
The man flashed a wide grin through his bushy beard. "Welcome to Doyle Island Tours. I'm your pilot, Hank Doyle. Hurry up and get in. I charge by the hour."
Frank clambered into the copilot's seat and strapped himself in. "Let's go," he shouted over the deafening howl of the engine.
Doyle tapped his headset and pointed to a similar unit on a hook on the side of the copilot's seat. Frank put it on. The headphones covered his ears, cutting out some of the noise. A small microphone was attached on one side.
"So you're a friend of Freddie Ahina's?" a voice crackled in Frank's ear.
"Actually I just met him today," Frank admitted.
The pilot turned to him. "You mean I'm supposed to take on the U.S. Navy for some lousy tourist? I owe Freddie a favor, but this is really pushing it. Who are you, anyway?"
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