Colonel Patel had been kind enough to leave Madeline to grieve, but had eventually had to pull Neal aside so that he could ask the many questions he was required to ask.

Neal’s answers had been circumspect, but not unreasonably so. He was not a sailor, and had said this ignorance was the very reason he and Madeline had stayed ashore. It was several hours later that his assistant informed the colonel that a representative of the American embassy was calling from New Delhi, asking to speak to Neal.

When Neal was handed the phone he was surprised to hear a familiar voice.

“Neal, this is Tim Hamilton, at the embassy,” Neal took a moment to recognize the name without its usual prefix, “no doubt this conversation is being overheard so I’ll keep this brief. Firstly, are all of you all right?”

The voice of the senior admiral who had overseen the project, disguised as it was as being from a member of the American Embassy in India, had thrown Neal off for a moment. Then the admiral’s suggestion of brevity sent a chill through Neal, reminding him of James’ warning note. In thinking that they might be being eavesdropped on, the admiral may be righter than he knew.

He replied carefully, “Err … Tim, how are you? I didn’t expect to hear your voice. Umm, we have had some sad news here, it looks like the boat James Hawkson and Laurie West were on has gone down, there do not appear to be any survivors.” He paused a moment, the admiral silent at this confirmation of what had previously just been a rumor.

Neal, still fearful of the potential that someone other than the Indian government was also listening in, continued, “As of right now there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of how or why this might have happened.”

The admiral had hoped for some kind of explanation, but his training made him err on the side of action in the face of ambiguity, so he moved on. Sounding concerned but firm, he said, “Neal, we’re going to overlook for a moment that you and Madeline were out there with them in the first place, and just be thankful that you didn’t somehow make it onto the boat as well.”

Neal sighed, almost relieved at the familiar stern tone of the admiral.

The officer continued, “I think it best that you and Madeline come home immediately. Take the next bus or plane back to New Delhi and I’ll have one of the embassy staff meet you at the airport with your tickets home. Clear?”

“Absolutely, Tim, we’ll see you in … Delhi,” said Neal, and, hearing the line go dead, handed the headset back to Colonel Patel who replaced it in its cradle so they could return to the final questions the Indian officer had for his copious forms.