The man grabbed a pike and reached out again. Vincent grimaced, imagining the dark water below him.  Come on, son, hurry it up, he thought, barely able to watch.

“They’ve found something.” Reggie’s voice made him jump. She was just behind him, a small pair of field glasses to her eyes. She lowered them, and reached out to grasp his forearm. “Hey, calm down, okay?”

Vince felt her thigh against his. He nodded, but couldn’t settle until he saw the small boat speeding back to the Bertholf. They’d hook it back up and haul it aboard in a few seconds, and he jogged back towards the bridge to get an update.

He saluted at the door and entered. Captain Loche graced him with a flat smile, and his 2IC, Lieutenant Mitch Andrews, also nodded to him.

Andrews handed Loche a steaming mug of coffee from a tray held by a junior officer, and Loche sat in his chair, and folded one leg over the other.

“Boat debris,” he said.

A man came to the door, still wet from salt spray and quickly saluted. He entered and stood rod-straight with his arms folded behind his back, and legs spread. He stared straight ahead.

“At ease; report.” Loche blew on his coffee.

“Thank you, sir.” The man relaxed, but his body remained straight. “After an examination of the area we sighted an engine-oil slick, and floating motor yacht debris – name and registration unknown. Most of the debris has signs of charring and explosive force. Looks like a fire and then explosion, sir.”

“Bodies, or any sign of life jackets?” Loche asked slowly.

“Nothing sir, no trace of any sea survival kit on the water. Everything else must have gone to the bottom.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed.” Loche turned in his chair towards Vincent. “Explosion.” He nodded slowly, his eyes on the senior chopper pilot. “Lieutenant Andrews…”

“Sir.” Andrews stopped and listened.

“One more sweep of the area to search for survivors, or bodies… and then we head in.” Loche looked away at last.

“Yes, sir.” Andrews relayed the orders.

Vincent began to protest, but knew he had nothing, and his mouth snapped shut.

Andrews leaned closer as he passed by. “Hey, maybe your monster used an RPG.” He winked and continued on.

“Asshole,” Vince whispered to his back, before heading for the door. There was no more he could do.

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 32

Off the western coast of Mexico's Baja California, near Guadalupe Island

Two of the three men stood in full wetsuits with goggles pushed up on foreheads, and tanks over their backs. The third, Jackson Biggs, moved around behind them, checking their equipment and making sure everything was hooked, strapped, and in tight to their bodies.

Jackson was the dive captain, and his job was to ensure everything that went into the water came back out again – that was doubly true for his charges.