Mick squeezes her hand tighter. Without moving his lips, he whispers, “Too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous? Why? What do you think is down there?” She releases his hand as Dr. Blackwell’s therapy session ends. “Mick, Foletta lied about everything. I found out he’s going to Tampa to be the director of a new maximum-security facility. You’re being transferred next week.”

“Help me escape.”

“I can’t—”

She stands as Dr. Blackwell approaches. “Intern, I didn’t realize you were such a Star Trek fan. I take it this movie is more important than my therapy session?”

“No, sir. I was just—I was just checking on this patient. He nearly fell out of his wheelchair.”

“That’s why we have orderlies. Here, take these.” He hands her a thick stack of patient files, then leads her away from Mick. “I want every chart updated and sent to billing within the hour. Be sure to note today’s therapy session. When you’re finished, you can join our team meeting in the conference room on the second floor.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“And Intern, stay away from Dr. Foletta’s resident.”

Gulf of Mexico

The forty-eight-foot fishing craft, Manatee, plows its way southwest through two-to-three-foot seas, its bow bathed in golden light as the setting sun kisses the horizon.

Below deck, Iz Axler pours himself a mug of coffee while his best friend, Carl Reuben, cooks dinner in the small galley.

The retired dentist rubs a hand towel over his balding scalp, then wipes the steam from his thick bifocals. “God, it’s hot down here. How close are we to this mysterious location of yours?”

“Three more miles. What’s for dinner?”

“I already told you, grilled dolphin.”

“We had that for lunch.”

“Catch lobster, and you’ll eat lobster. Tell me about this spot. You say it has no fish?”

“That’s right. We call it a dead zone.”

“Why’s it dead?”

“Don’t know. That’s why I want to take a look.”

“And how long are you planning to keep us in this dead zone?”

“How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Well, if there’s an oil rig sitting over the area like I suspect there is, we’ll be in and out of there by dessert.”

Iz leaves the galley and heads up on deck, savoring the smell of the salt air seasoned by the scent of grilled fish. For him, Carl, and Rex Simpson, the annual five-day fishing trip is the highlight of their year. After a long hurricane season, the Gulf waters have calmed and the weather cooled, offering ideal conditions for boating. Two days have yielded a dozen dolphin fish, eight yellowtail, and one grouper. Facing the fading sun, Iz closes his eyes and inhales, allowing the warm gusts of wind to soothe his sunburned face.

A dull thud causes him to turn. Rex repositions the air tank, then finishes strapping it to the back of a buoyancy-control vest.