she longed to capture him on video. With Herculean effort she resisted. For his part, Stefan swam out and around, circling them in a wide arc, and some of the equipment he carried on his own weight belt looked suspiciously lethal. Another reminder that despite all appearances, this wasn’t really a lazy afternoon in the Mediterranean.
Nicki was legitimately tired by the time they pulled themselves out of the water, gratefully accepting Stefan’s help as he took her equipment and stacked it on the deck.
“Stay here,” he said when she cleared the ladder. He was already stripping out of his wet suit, and she followed his lead. “There’s food, and we can see what you captured on film. It’ll save time.”
She watched him as he took the camera and popped the drive, transferring it to a large-screened laptop that had been brought to a shaded alcove of the deck. She grabbed a handful of grapes and a towel, then flopped down on a teak bench to dry herself off as Stefan reviewed the footage.
It was as spectacular as she’d hoped it would be when viewing it under water. The fish were large and exotic. The centuries-old boat—while no bastion of lost treasure—was charmingly authentic, and the Garronois guard Tamas was handsome and fit and truly at home in the water. There were shots of Nicki too, taken by Tamas to continue the illusion that they were the only two down there, as she glided over a thick coral bed, then pointed the camera toward the glittering, glinting surface of the rocks.
Abruptly, Stefan’s hand shot out and froze the screen. “What is that?” he asked, the impassive calm of his voice at odds with the urgency of his fingers on the trackpad.
Nicki stopped toweling her hair.
“That’s great, isn’t it?” she asked. “Something bright stuck into the coral. I assumed it was debris, but the way it’s wedged in there is cool. It’s obsidian, maybe—or some sort of thick glass. Something cut with facets to reflect all that sunlight.” She pointed to two bright spots.
“Tamas.” Stefan turned and spoke rapid Garronois to the other man, who stared from him to the screen, then stood and crossed the deck to scoop up his discarded snorkeling mask.
Nicki frowned. “What?” she asked. “What do you see?”
“The chunk of glass you’re pointing out could be simply glass, nothing more. Rock. Debris. But it is also could be glass that has been shattered into specific facets, such as the glass monitors of aircraft tracking equipment.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think it’s part of Ari’s plane?”
“I don’t.” he shook his head definitively. “It could be anything. If it is debris, it could be from any plane that has flown over this space and crashed in the last five years. It’s unreasonable that it belongs to Ari’s craft. But it’s at least evidence that planes have crashed here—recent planes, potentially. And that’s a start.”
He stood abruptly. “Go get dressed. I want you to go with us ashore after Tamas recovers a chunk of that glass.”
Stefan scowled as he faced into the wind, their small speedboat cutting across the water at a rapid clip, bisecting the azure waters as they approached the shoreline of the small island. His men had located the scavenger band’s leader, who’d been more than willing to talk to them. The previous night’s storm had yielded more gifts from the sea, and he had much to sell.
Stefan had much to sell, too. And now so did Nicki, unwittingly. The information she had on her video cam, if proven to be a connection to Prince Ari’s airplane, was both good and bad news. Good, if Ari was found alive or dead, without foul play involved. Bad, if the king and queen had indisputable cause to do a full scale search in this area—area which was not Garronois territory, but Turkish. The nightmare of navigating the politics of those permissions, and the inherent insinuation that the Turkish government hadn’t done all they could to find
Nicki was legitimately tired by the time they pulled themselves out of the water, gratefully accepting Stefan’s help as he took her equipment and stacked it on the deck.
“Stay here,” he said when she cleared the ladder. He was already stripping out of his wet suit, and she followed his lead. “There’s food, and we can see what you captured on film. It’ll save time.”
She watched him as he took the camera and popped the drive, transferring it to a large-screened laptop that had been brought to a shaded alcove of the deck. She grabbed a handful of grapes and a towel, then flopped down on a teak bench to dry herself off as Stefan reviewed the footage.
It was as spectacular as she’d hoped it would be when viewing it under water. The fish were large and exotic. The centuries-old boat—while no bastion of lost treasure—was charmingly authentic, and the Garronois guard Tamas was handsome and fit and truly at home in the water. There were shots of Nicki too, taken by Tamas to continue the illusion that they were the only two down there, as she glided over a thick coral bed, then pointed the camera toward the glittering, glinting surface of the rocks.
Abruptly, Stefan’s hand shot out and froze the screen. “What is that?” he asked, the impassive calm of his voice at odds with the urgency of his fingers on the trackpad.
Nicki stopped toweling her hair.
“That’s great, isn’t it?” she asked. “Something bright stuck into the coral. I assumed it was debris, but the way it’s wedged in there is cool. It’s obsidian, maybe—or some sort of thick glass. Something cut with facets to reflect all that sunlight.” She pointed to two bright spots.
“Tamas.” Stefan turned and spoke rapid Garronois to the other man, who stared from him to the screen, then stood and crossed the deck to scoop up his discarded snorkeling mask.
Nicki frowned. “What?” she asked. “What do you see?”
“The chunk of glass you’re pointing out could be simply glass, nothing more. Rock. Debris. But it is also could be glass that has been shattered into specific facets, such as the glass monitors of aircraft tracking equipment.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think it’s part of Ari’s plane?”
“I don’t.” he shook his head definitively. “It could be anything. If it is debris, it could be from any plane that has flown over this space and crashed in the last five years. It’s unreasonable that it belongs to Ari’s craft. But it’s at least evidence that planes have crashed here—recent planes, potentially. And that’s a start.”
He stood abruptly. “Go get dressed. I want you to go with us ashore after Tamas recovers a chunk of that glass.”
Stefan scowled as he faced into the wind, their small speedboat cutting across the water at a rapid clip, bisecting the azure waters as they approached the shoreline of the small island. His men had located the scavenger band’s leader, who’d been more than willing to talk to them. The previous night’s storm had yielded more gifts from the sea, and he had much to sell.
Stefan had much to sell, too. And now so did Nicki, unwittingly. The information she had on her video cam, if proven to be a connection to Prince Ari’s airplane, was both good and bad news. Good, if Ari was found alive or dead, without foul play involved. Bad, if the king and queen had indisputable cause to do a full scale search in this area—area which was not Garronois territory, but Turkish. The nightmare of navigating the politics of those permissions, and the inherent insinuation that the Turkish government hadn’t done all they could to find
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