Josh had learned all of this from Lieutenant Commander Cornelius Sykes — one of the ranking officers on board the USCGC Kodiak. They had crossed paths before, as Josh’s squad had often cooperated with the Coast Guard on ocean interdiction, and had an amiable enough acquaintance. Sykes had visited sick bay during the blood-loss-induced haze of the night before and then again this morning, in an attempt to keep Josh company. He didn’t have much by way of a sense of humor, but Sykes was a good guy, intelligent and purposeful, and took obvious pride in his work.
While Dr. Dolan cleaned and dressed the bullet wound in Josh’s shoulder, Sykes had taken it upon himself to educate Josh about the Kodiak and about the Coast Guard, and had picked up on the theme this morning. Josh had actually found the information about the ship interesting, and reassuring — especially considering there were two Island Class cutters and a two-hundred-and-seventy-foot Medium Endurance cutter in what Josh had started to think of as their “fleet.” But when he stepped out onto the deck of the Kodiak and spotted Sykes, he hoped the lieutenant commander had lost interest in lecturing.
“Hey, Josh,” Sykes said, eyes narrowed with his usual intensity. “How’s the shoulder?”
“Good, Cornelius, thanks. Listen, have you seen Agent Turcotte? One of your guys told me he was out on the deck.”
Sykes nodded. “With the captain, just down to starboard. But do you really think you should be—”
“Thanks, man.” Josh clapped him on the shoulder and strode away.
Sykes mumbled something but did not call after him. Josh hurried aft and quickly came in sight of a small gathering at the starboard railing. He shielded his eyes from the sun — it was another pristine blue Caribbean day — and could make out all six of the figures up ahead. His partner, Rachael Voss, stood with Ed Turcotte and Dan O’Connell from the Counter-Terrorism squad. They’d been joined by the Kodiak’s captain, Bud Rouleau, and a couple of his officers.
Two hundred yards off to starboard, the Antoinette loomed on the water, silent and apparently abandoned.
“Agent Turcotte!” Josh called as he hurried up. His shoulder ached and he blinked the sun from his eyes, craving caffeine.
Turcotte saw him and knitted his brows in disapproval, but Josh had no interest in pleasing him.
“Good morning, Agent Hart,” Captain Rouleau said.
“And to you, sir,” Josh replied, before focusing on Turcotte. “No disrespect, Ed, but what the hell are you doing?”
O’Connell scoffed. “No disrespect, huh?”
Voss glared at O’Connell, then turned a warning glance on Josh.
Turcotte raised his chin. “Shouldn’t you still be in Dr. Dolan’s sick bay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Josh snapped. “Which is a lot more than I can say for the poor bastards you sent over to the Antoinette. I told you the whole story, and still you’ve got a team boarding her with, what, sidearms? If any of those things are still on board—”
“First of all,” Turcotte interrupted, “this isn’t your case, Agent Hart. You’re out of it. Second, even if these things are real—”
“Real enough to kill the whole fucking crew!”
“Boys,” Voss said, trying to pacify them. O’Connell just rolled his eyes, but Captain Rouleau studied Josh intently.
Turcotte held up both hands. “Okay, okay. They’re real, whatever they are, but you said they burn in the sun, and that they only come out at night. The others we pulled out of that lifeboat said the same thing. If you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty sunny out here. If they run into anything out there, they only have to retreat to sunlight—”
“If they get a chance,” Josh said.
“Christ’s sake, Hart, two seconds ago you said ‘if’ any of them are still on board! You don’t even know. And if they are, we’re the FBI, not the damn Cub Scouts!”
Voss sighed. “Ed. Cut him some slack. He’s lucky to be alive.”
What surprised Josh the most was not the almost friendly tone with which Rachael had addressed the leader of the squad that constantly attempted to snatch their cases, but that Turcotte actually relented. He gave a small shrug and a nod.
“Go on, then. Talk to him. I don’t have time for this shit.”
Voss led him a few steps away from the others, then stopped to study Josh. “You really okay? You did get shot last night, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“The bullet went right through. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to ask Pavarotti what you’ve let slip during pillow talk?”
She flinched. That irked her, and Josh was glad. He loved Rachael, but she needed to stop treating him like something fragile.
“You want to say that again?” Voss asked, the warning clear in her tone.
“Let’s move on,” Josh said. “Maybe start with, ‘Hey, partner, I’m glad you’re alive.’”
“Jesus, you’re needy. I freakin’ hugged you last night, and that’s all the love you’re getting. If you’re on the job — which I want you to know I’m against — then you’re on the job.”
Josh smiled. “You missed me.”
She rolled her eyes and glanced away. There had always been an intensity between them, but they had agreed early on to direct those feelings into their professional relationship. Voss tended to find distractions in short-lived romances, and Josh had gone through a numbing divorce. Now he had a new fascination, and new feelings — and though he would have to report it himself to avoid worse censure if it came out later, he still did not want Rachael to know about what had developed between him and Tori. She would tell him how stupid he had been, and she would be right.
“Seriously,” he said. “You want to tell me what Turcotte’s thinking, because this is incredibly stupid.”
“He’s thinking that, anytime now, this whole mess is going to be taken away from us and might just blow up in our faces,” Voss said. “And if the guns the Rios were smuggling are on that ship, he wants to lay claim to them for the Bureau, and at least get that win on the books before the DOD starts hunting monsters.”
Josh nodded. He did not agree, and knew that Turcotte would soon regret his choice, but he understood the motivation.
“Fine. But what’s the DOD got to do with anything?”
“We’re in a holding pattern right now,” she said. “Turcotte and Captain Rouleau made their reports and in both cases — FBI and Coast Guard — we’ve been told to secure the area but otherwise stand down and await the arrival of some Navy ship. The ICE ships that were along with us on the hunt for the Antoinette have been called away. They’re out of it. The Department of Defense is taking over.”
Just a few feet away, Turcotte and the Coast Guard captain seemed to be commiserating on that very subject. Josh couldn’t help but note the irony that someone had finally done to Turcotte what the Counter-Terrorism unit had so often done to everyone else in recent years. But he knew now wasn’t the time to revel in that — not when he could see men moving on the deck of the Antoinette just a couple hundred yards away.