Not forever.
It wasn’t who they were.
She felt that even more keenly now.
Accepting this, she took in her surroundings. Life stirred all around her, as rich as the densest jungle. The trio whisked through a school of sleek black-and-silver barracuda, scattering them like a flock of birds. Sea turtles hung motionless in the water, watching them pass with unblinking eyes, while gorgonian sea fans waved from ridges of hard coral. Elsewhere, eagle and manta rays glided out of their way with an unearthly elegance. For several yards, a googly-eyed grouper as large as a Volkswagen van paced alongside them before losing interest and lumbering away.
Across this wonderland, they slowly made their way along the promontory, intending to circle past its tip to reach the far side. Their only weapons were the element of surprise and one dive knife each. Seichan regretted their lack of firepower, especially after hearing those earlier rifle blasts.
“Slow up,” Ben radioed through their comm units.
As they bunched together, Seichan reached a gloved hand to the sandy bottom to steady herself. Before she could touch the seabed, Ben knocked her arm away.
“Watch yourself,” he warned.
The sand where she had been about to place her palm suddenly sprouted spines. A creature burst from beneath the silt — and swam away.
“Stonefish,” Ben explained. “Most venomous fish in the world. Get stung badly enough by those spines, you can die in seconds. Sometimes just from the sheer pain. Only safe place to grab them is by the tail.”
She retracted her hand to her chest.
I’ll pass.
“We’ve cleared the promontory,” Ben informed them, while checking a wrist GPS. “I’ll take the lead from here as we head back along the far side toward Simon’s coordinates.”
The coordinates of a dead man.
If that thought wasn’t ominous enough, the terrain around them quickly changed — from multicolored splendor to gray desert. They had reached a section of the bleached reef. Sea life appeared to have fled the desolation.
“My god…” Gray mumbled.
Ben explained as they worked back toward shore, using the distraction to temper the tension. “It’s not as hopeless as it appears. The bleached coral is still alive. It’s just been stressed by the higher temperatures to expel the symbiotic algae that give the reef its vibrant colors. If left unchecked, the coral polyps will eventually die. But if the stressors can be eliminated in time, the reefs can return to life. Unfortunately, the Great Barrier Reef has suffered back-to-back bleaching events. If this continues, by some estimates, the entire reef could vanish in the next couple decades.”
“Solving that particular danger will have to wait for the moment,” Gray said, and pointed ahead.
Thirty yards away, two large shadows hovered above, linked to the seafloor by taut anchor cables. One boat had a single keel. The twin hulls of the other marked it as the scientific team’s catamaran.
Ben eyed the larger single-hulled craft. “Definitely unwanted company.”
Gray drew closer to him. “How far off are we from Simon’s coordinates to the sea cave?”
Ben pointed toward the promontory coastline. “Fifty meters farther along.”
Gray nodded and turned his attention toward the surface.
Seichan could guess the question plaguing him. With no knowledge of the situation above, they faced a troubling choice.
Which boat should they attempt to board first?
The answer was taken from them — suddenly and violently.
The dark shadows beneath the catamaran suddenly erupted with a fiery explosion. The ship lifted out of the water for a breath, then crashed back down. Its shattered hulls crumbled in on themselves, then slowly sank as the sea flooded its compartments.
Seichan shook her head, expelling a breath.
The concussion of the blast ached in her ears and chest.
If we’d been any closer…
Ben swore as he gaped at the sinking wreck.
Seichan spotted a body rising off the broken deck, trailing blood.
One of the oceanographers.
The earlier gunfire echoed in her head. She pictured the ravaged body of Ben’s friend. Whoever these pirates were, they had moved beyond executing their prisoners. They were cleaning house.
But what did that mean? Were any of the other scientists still alive? And what about Simon’s daughter?
Are we already too late?
Only one way to know for sure.
“Let’s go,” Gray said coldly.
Gray hung in the shadow of the boat with Ben. The craft appeared to be an old fishing charter with a wide open rear deck, a small raised wheelhouse, and a cubby cabin beneath the bow.
He and Ben had taken up position under the steel dive deck at the stern. Across the length of the twenty-foot hull, Seichan hovered near the bow. She clutched one hand to the anchor cable. Over her head, the line rose out of the water and up to a bow roller and a winch. She would use the cable like a rope to board the boat from that side.
At the moment, they dared not even use their radios, fearing that in such close quarters the enemy might hear them. He couldn’t risk losing their best weapon.
The element of surprise.
He rose up until his palm rested against the starboard side of the dive deck. Ben followed him, taking a position on the port side.
Once ready, he eyed Seichan — then sliced his free arm through the water.
They all moved at once.
Gray grabbed the edge of the dive deck and smoothly pulled himself out of the water and twisted around to land his backside on the steel. He kept his head below the stern rail. Ben mirrored his maneuver on the far side. With no alarm raised, they shifted to get their legs under them and freed their dive knives.
As he crouched, he heard low, furtive voices, one deep chuckle, and someone softly crying. All the sounds seemed to be coming from the open rear deck — but was anyone in the ship’s wheelhouse or in the lower cabin?
Only one way to find out.
He waited for the right moment — and it came with a shout of surprise from the deck. Upon that signal, both he and Ben burst up and hurdled the stern rail. Across the boat, a figure stood exposed atop the bow deck.
While still underwater, Seichan had unzipped and stripped down the top half of her wetsuit. She stood now in her bikini top, leaning nonchalantly with her hips cocked, a hand leaning on the neighboring rail. With her bottom half still encased in her black wetsuit, she looked like a mermaid stranded atop the deck.
Her sudden appearance — along with her bored expression — momentarily baffled the two armed men guarding a pair of kneeling prisoners. Even before they could shift their weapons toward her, Gray came up behind and knifed the first man in the side of the throat. Ben was less lethal and clubbed his target with the hilt of his weapon, striking him expertly behind the left ear. Bone cracked, and the man crumpled limply to the deck.
Gray grabbed the Desert Eagle pistol carried by his target and focused on the empty wheelhouse, where a closed door led down to the cubby cabin. He collected the other weapon and tossed it to Seichan, who caught it one-handed.
She quickly crossed to the door to the cubby cabin, kicked it open, and surveilled the cramped space below. “All clear,” she called as she retreated to join them.
The two prisoners were a red-haired young man and a woman in her late forties.
Ben knelt before them as they stared wide-eyed and stunned at the sudden assault. “We’re friends of Simon,” he assured them. “I’m guessing you’re part of the ANFOG team working with him.”
The woman took a shuddering breath, wiped tears from her cheeks, and nodded.