Page 82 of Still See You Everywhere

“Exactly. Watched at all times.”

“Uh, Mac. Look around you. We don’t exactly have the facilities or the manpower to be incarcerating the crew. Unless, of course, you’re volunteering your guys.”

Silence, which I take to mean no.

“Move him to your office. You got a lock on that door, don’t you?”

“Lock him in with the main computer, comm control, and gun cabinet? Sure, let’s do that.” Vaughn doesn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

“The plane, then. He can stay with Marilee and Brent.”

“There’s not enough room for three people on that plane. Hell, Marilee and Brent shouldn’t even be staying there. If you’re this concerned, have them fly him back to Honolulu. We could use the empty cabin.”

“The Cessna doesn’t leave without me.”

“Perfect. You can go with them.” This time, Vaughn is not sarcastic.

“Lone. Engineer.” Charlie is speaking up in clear, clipped tones. “Don’t care what you think of me, mate.” I take it he’s addressing MacManus. “But I’ve kept this camp running on a wing and a prayer. Despite ocean air that corrodes wiring almost as fast as I can replace it, and a dingy comm tower half the size and power of what we really need. Your guys good with plumbing, electrical, and fiberglass hull repair? Are they boat captains and crack fishermen, capable of bringing home fresh dinner for the masses? Cuz if not, sending me home leaves this place right fucked.”

“I’m sure we can manage.”

“Uh, Mac—”

“I’m not tying up the plane with a lone reprobate,” Mac continues. “But he can stay, as long as he does exactly as we say and remains under constant supervision. Is that clear?”

“Right-o, boss man. Have rocker, will enjoy the view.”

“No. Constant supervision. Vaughn?”

“Hell no, I’m not babysitting; I got an entire camp to run. Like I said, we don’t have the manpower—”

“Busiest place in the camp? One with nearly constant activity? Mess hall, I’m assuming.”

“Sure, the kitchen—”

“He can remain there. There’s enough space for an extra body to be hanging out.”

“I can’t ask my camp caretakers to serve as prison wardens—”

“Then don’t. I will.”

“They’re cooks, not guards. How are they supposed to protect themselves if he decides to pull something?”

“Easy, mate!” Charlie, sounding insulted.

“Please. Chef Kiki is there now. Don’t let her small size fool you. She knows more than how to debone a chicken with a knife.”

Complete silence, as if no one, especially Vaughn and Charlie, know what to make of that statement.

“It’s decided. Elias, escort Charlie to the mess hall. Explain the situation. Come nightfall, Vaughn can bunk with Charlie in this cabin. Case closed.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” Vaughn, no doubt raking a hand through his hair.

“Do I need an escort to hit the head?” Charlie drawls now. “Or just piss in a cup when the need arises?”

“Someone will take you.” MacManus, still irritated.

“Fuck this!” Vaughn, more irritated. “This camp runs on trust. Our safety depends on it. You don’t trust this man. Fine. Then send him back to Oahu. But to do this—put one of our own under constant guard? The camp will grind to a halt. Hell, we might as well all go home.”

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