surface.
CHAPTER 6
The memory of the skeletons haunted Dane all the way to the surface. At each decompression stop, he wondered if the men trapped on that ship had been alive, desperately holding one last breath, or already dead when they reached this depth. The closer to the surface he got, the more certain he was that those men had been alive when the doomed ship had passed through the water where he now floated; alive and terrified.
When they were just fifty feet below the glittering emerald surface, with the keel of the Jacinta a black gash directly overhead, a visiting tiger shark reminded Dane that perhaps not all of the men who had gone down on the ship had drowned; there were other ways to die. He and Bones ascended back-to-back, gripping unsheathed knives, for the remainder of the ascent. The shark swam lazy circles around them, its coal black eyes betraying nothing of its intent. Because Dane’s attention was focused on the shark, he didn’t notice the more immediate danger until it was too late. As he scrambled onto the low dive platform that hung from the boat’s left side, he found himself staring into the barrel of semi-automatic pistol.
There were two men on the platform, both wearing black tactical gear and matching balaclavas. Their captors didn’t say anything at first, but merely gestured with their pistols. Dane and Bones both held their hands up and climbed the rickety staircase up to the main deck where three more gunmen waited, along with Willis and Professor who were kneeling, hands behind heads in a classic hostage pose. Dane was relieved to see that his friends had suffered nothing more than wounded pride.
Bones shook his head ruefully. “Come on, Professor, I thought you were the responsible one. I specifically said no parties while we’re gone. You put him up to this, didn’t you Willis?”
“Very amusing,” remarked one of the gunmen.
The speaker was, Dane noted, one of the men that had accompanied them up from the dive platform. The man was tall and broad, and carried himself confidently. He didn’t have a discernible accent, which meant he was probably American, and given his professional comportment, Dane figured him for former military, probably Special Forces, now working as a mercenary. Crime was of course an equal opportunity career path, but Dane’s instincts told him that this wasn’t merely a hijacking.
“What do you men want?” he asked, trying to put a little quaver in his voice.
“You found the ship, right?”
Dane sensed it wasn’t really a question.
“Wow, straight to it,” Bones said with a disappointed sigh. “No foreplay.”
No kidding , thought Dane. The ship . These men definitely knew who the SEALs were and what they were looking for.
The gunman nearest to Bones lashed out with his foot, catching Bones behind his left knee. As Bones folded onto the deck, a pistol swiped across the back of his head. A trickle of red appeared from beneath Bones’ dark hair and spattered on the deck. Dane knew from experience that it took a lot more than that to put Bones down, but to his credit, the tall Indian suppressed his instinct to fight.
“How do you like that for foreplay?” snarled the gunman, jamming the muzzle of his pistol against Bones’ neck for added emphasis.
“The ship,” repeated the leader.
There was nothing to be gained by playing coy. “It’s the wrong one,” Dane confessed. “You guys should have given us a little more time to look. There’s a wreck down there, but it’s not the Awa Maru .”
The leader stared at him for a moment, his expression mostly hidden behind his mask, and then burst out laughing. “Maddock you poor dupe. Is that what they told you to look for?”
Dane was more surprised by the reaction , and the fact that the man knew his name, than by the simple fact of the assault team’s presence. Up until that moment, he had suspected that this was might be a group of treasure hunters trying to frighten off a
CHAPTER 6
The memory of the skeletons haunted Dane all the way to the surface. At each decompression stop, he wondered if the men trapped on that ship had been alive, desperately holding one last breath, or already dead when they reached this depth. The closer to the surface he got, the more certain he was that those men had been alive when the doomed ship had passed through the water where he now floated; alive and terrified.
When they were just fifty feet below the glittering emerald surface, with the keel of the Jacinta a black gash directly overhead, a visiting tiger shark reminded Dane that perhaps not all of the men who had gone down on the ship had drowned; there were other ways to die. He and Bones ascended back-to-back, gripping unsheathed knives, for the remainder of the ascent. The shark swam lazy circles around them, its coal black eyes betraying nothing of its intent. Because Dane’s attention was focused on the shark, he didn’t notice the more immediate danger until it was too late. As he scrambled onto the low dive platform that hung from the boat’s left side, he found himself staring into the barrel of semi-automatic pistol.
There were two men on the platform, both wearing black tactical gear and matching balaclavas. Their captors didn’t say anything at first, but merely gestured with their pistols. Dane and Bones both held their hands up and climbed the rickety staircase up to the main deck where three more gunmen waited, along with Willis and Professor who were kneeling, hands behind heads in a classic hostage pose. Dane was relieved to see that his friends had suffered nothing more than wounded pride.
Bones shook his head ruefully. “Come on, Professor, I thought you were the responsible one. I specifically said no parties while we’re gone. You put him up to this, didn’t you Willis?”
“Very amusing,” remarked one of the gunmen.
The speaker was, Dane noted, one of the men that had accompanied them up from the dive platform. The man was tall and broad, and carried himself confidently. He didn’t have a discernible accent, which meant he was probably American, and given his professional comportment, Dane figured him for former military, probably Special Forces, now working as a mercenary. Crime was of course an equal opportunity career path, but Dane’s instincts told him that this wasn’t merely a hijacking.
“What do you men want?” he asked, trying to put a little quaver in his voice.
“You found the ship, right?”
Dane sensed it wasn’t really a question.
“Wow, straight to it,” Bones said with a disappointed sigh. “No foreplay.”
No kidding , thought Dane. The ship . These men definitely knew who the SEALs were and what they were looking for.
The gunman nearest to Bones lashed out with his foot, catching Bones behind his left knee. As Bones folded onto the deck, a pistol swiped across the back of his head. A trickle of red appeared from beneath Bones’ dark hair and spattered on the deck. Dane knew from experience that it took a lot more than that to put Bones down, but to his credit, the tall Indian suppressed his instinct to fight.
“How do you like that for foreplay?” snarled the gunman, jamming the muzzle of his pistol against Bones’ neck for added emphasis.
“The ship,” repeated the leader.
There was nothing to be gained by playing coy. “It’s the wrong one,” Dane confessed. “You guys should have given us a little more time to look. There’s a wreck down there, but it’s not the Awa Maru .”
The leader stared at him for a moment, his expression mostly hidden behind his mask, and then burst out laughing. “Maddock you poor dupe. Is that what they told you to look for?”
Dane was more surprised by the reaction , and the fact that the man knew his name, than by the simple fact of the assault team’s presence. Up until that moment, he had suspected that this was might be a group of treasure hunters trying to frighten off a
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