“Rogue wave!”
Above them the green apparition followed.
At fifty feet, the two stopped diving and looked back. The frothy water seemed to have disappeared.
“I think it’s passed,” Genevieve said.
“Yeah, but whether or not the Maria Helena survived it, I don’t know.”
The two swam to the surface again.
There was nothing around them. The only remaining light were the millions of stars visible above them and all the way to the horizon.
“Well. This might be a long wait.”
The sea appeared unusually calm. With his buoyancy control device inflated Tom relaxed, floating on his back and stared up at the stars above. They were as beautiful as they were plentiful.
Tom removed the golden eagle from his dive belt and held it up against the night’s sky. “We might be here a while Genevieve. We may as well enjoy it.”
She followed his suit and floated on her back in the almost perfectly still water, staring above. “I could think of worse places to have to wait.”
“What are you doing with that?”
“I’m trying to make sense of it.”
She laughed. “By looking at the stars?”
“Yes. I can only guess that it is some sort of celestial map. Hopefully it will lead us to where they once lived.” Tom watched her face. It was glowing with interest. “Who am I kidding? Hopefully it will lead us to their real treasure cache.”
“What makes you so certain it’s a map?”
Tom swam slightly closer to her so that that his face rested next to hers. Close enough that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. He then held the golden eagle up into the air so that the tiny holes in the wings spread across the sky. “See these tiny dots?”
She nodded her head.
“I believe they represent a constellation of stars. Once you reach a point where the holes all line up to stars directly overhead, you will be above the desired location — whatever that might be.”
“But none of those holes match up to any of the stars in our sky?”
Tom lowered the eagle. “I noticed that too.” He held the eagle directly next to her and pointed directly at a series of holes. “See these. I believe they represent the Southern Cross.”
“Which means the Antiqui Nautae lived in the southern hemisphere?”
“Exactly.”
Neither person spoke for some time after that. Tom noticed that Genevieve was still resting her head on his chest. She’d moved even closer, if that was possible. It surprised him. Genevieve had always been a sort of enigma aboard the Maria Helena. She was kind and nurturing to everyone, but there was also hardness there, too. Some sort of deep-rooted toughness that went further than her exterior.
Tom wrapped his arms around her out of comfort. He waited for her to show her displeasure, and when she didn’t he cuddled her.
She was quick to make new friends, but those friendships never surpassed the superficial stage. After two years on board she had refused to open up about her previous life. One thing was certain — she had gone to great lengths to remove any history of it, and had no intention of dating or getting close enough to anyone, of either sex, to relinquish her past.
Sam knew it. Tom was certain of that. Sam carefully vetted everyone in his team aboard the Maria Helena. He only accepted the brightest and best in any field and was willing to pay big dollars to ensure that’s all he received. Elise was probably the world’s best data miner and Sam would have used her talents to discover the truth about Genevieve’s past. Whatever it was, Sam must have approved, because he’d kept her aboard. When Tom had asked if she was single, Sam had laughed and told him that of all the people aboard, she was the only one he was certain wasn’t interested in a relationship.
Sam had brought her on board two years ago after she’d answered an advert for a quality chef, who was willing to live at sea and anywhere around the world, and would have an acceptance to participate in other duties whilst on board. Everyone quickly learned that not only was she a three hatted gourmet chef, she excelled at every new skill she learned. They also noticed she had a unique repertoire of skills not officially listed on her resume, such as martial arts, hand to hand combat and weapons training — suggesting a history in the military. But for which country, was anyone’s guess.
Tom sighed. He shouldn’t push his luck. “What’s your story anyway, Genevieve? I know you weren’t always a brilliant chef.”
“No, I’ve always been a brilliant chef. Cooking came naturally to me ever since I was a little girl.” She smiled at him — there was uncertainty in it, as though she was deciding if she was ready to tell her story.
He should have left it alone. But they were adrift in the Atlantic in the dead of night. They had no way of knowing if the Maria Helena had survived, and if she hadn’t it would mean that no one would come for them in the morning. So Tom persisted. “What else came easy to you?”
She looked at him. Tom wondered if he spotted the slightest of tears — it could have easily been seawater. “Killing people.”
It was the sort of thing people said as a joke. Only she wasn’t kidding.
“Who did you kill?”
“There were a lot of people. But I remember every single one of them. I worked for a man who’d survived the Gulag in Russia. You know the death camps?”
Tom nodded his head. He’d read a book about it years ago.
Genevieve continued. “He adopted me when I was very young. Taught me things. Worked with my natural talent and I began killing people. I’m out now, but it’s a past that’s best hidden.”
Genevieve then turned her head and kissed him. It was tentative at first. Then as his lips parted, it became more passionate. They were responding to each other’s desires hungrily, until she suddenly pulled away and stared at him. “You really do have nice hazel eyes.”
“What was that for?” Tom asked. A large grin formed across his face like a teenager who just got to first base with his prom partner.
“Because you saved my life earlier.” She smiled seductively. “And because I’ve always wanted to. Oh, and by the way. If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”
On the horizon a new light glowed.
Tom moved back from Genevieve, and prepared to dive again. The light could have been another rogue wave. Then he heard the familiar sound of the Sea King’s rotor blades whirling. It hovered directly above them.
Veyron opened the side door and leaned out. The noise was horrendous, but through it they could just make out Veyron’s words. “You kids want a lift somewhere?”
Chapter Fifty Seven
Sam looked to the left side of the helicopter where Tom climbed the steel ladder. He looked wet, tired, and relieved. There was something else he spotted about him, but couldn’t quite be certain — did he look embarrassed? Behind him, Genevieve slumped into the seat. Her short dark brown hair, normally tied back tidily, was tussled. Her large breasts, slim figure, and athletic frame, cut a striking image through her skin-tight neoprene diving suit.
“Sam Reilly, what are you staring at all dumb? Haven’t you seen a beautiful woman before?” Genevieve said.
Sam turned his head as he laughed. Then he waited for Veyron to close the door, before he gained some altitude. “I’m just glad you two are okay.”
“We’re fine, but what about the Maria Helena and the rest of them?” Tom asked.
“They’re okay. I’m not sure how they did it, but the rogue wave seems to have missed them completely.”
Veyron noted the marker beacon of the Maria Helena on the GPS. Sam nodded his head and followed the directional marker. It took them due south.
And then the radio began to make noise. The person’s voice at the other end was hidden by the strong static. Veyron adjusted the radio and then waited for whoever was on the other side to transmit again.