“What’s the matter, Lancer?” I whispered. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.” I turned to view Devoke Water’s surrounding terrain, seeing his dog on a promontory. “Nobody’s here but us.”
    “My husky hears different. Back to the car, Joshua. Get the boat. Plug in the pump. The compressor’s noise will be cloaked. Switch the hazards on. Keep smiling as though nothing is wrong.”
    “Eh? Why you talking like something’s wrong, Lancer?”
    “Because,” he whispered, “something is very wrong, Joshua. Our ‘unpleasant rendezvous’ has arrived...” 
    Pulling out the reinforced fabric roll from the GT-R’s boot, a partially inflated kayak sprang open at my feet and I switched the GT-R’s hazards on. Freezing cold rain, hailstones and deafening gusts were returning, so I struggled to fit the nozzle into the rubber valve and push the electric adaptor into the 12-volt socket. He’d been correct... The noisy pneumatic compressor couldn’t be heard over the GT-R’s deep gargles as the kayak’s structure grew in length, width, depth and stiffness. 
    Lancer climbed up onto the boathouse to survey the area,
surreptitiously placing something on the slate roof before
returning and leading me to a shadowed area, all 
the time smiling and nodding...
    I asked, “You think we’ve been followed?”