The two shook hands, and while the Coasties returned to their cutter, Cabrillo and his team returned to the Oregon. The “problem” with the davit had been rectified and the lifeboat was secured once again. They made a show of lugging their little inflatable up the lowered boarding stairs and stowing it on the cluttered deck. No sooner were they aboard than Max had them moving off deeper into the storm, keeping track with their stated destination of Nassau, the Bahamas. He kept to the course and a speed of just twelve knots until the threat detection gear showed they had steamed beyond the cutter’s effective radar range.

Only then could they go after the stealth ship being pursued by MacD and Eddie in the RHIB. Cabrillo was still in the shower when he felt the engines spool up and the ship begin to pour on the power. They’d lost several hours on their target, and it felt as though Max intended on making it up as fast as possible. Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a Norwegian roll-neck sweater, Cabrillo entered the op center.

“How are our boys?” he asked, taking his command seat.

“Still in pursuit,” Max replied.

“What’s their fuel status?”

“If we can maintain forty knots, we’ll reach them when they still have an hour’s reserve.”

“That’s a bit tighter than I like,” Juan remarked. “If we’re delayed, they’ll need to break off the chase so they don’t run out.”

“Not much we can do about that,” Hanley said. “Coasties took their time reaching the wreck. Could’ve been worse if they’d wanted to board us and go over our papers.”

Juan didn’t reply. What so concerned him was that in these seas, his men needed to keep headway in the RHIB to avoid being swamped by a wave. If their fuel load dropped to a certain point, they would need to slow down to stretch out their time under power. That meant letting the stealth ship escape.

Over the next hours, Cabrillo sat wordlessly drinking coffee while the plot showing the Oregon’s position and the blip representing the RHIB according to its locator drew closer and closer. Because they didn’t know their quarry’s capabilities, they were maintaining strict radio silence. Juan was relieved by the fact that they were maintaining a steady southeasterly course. The RHIB hadn’t deviated more than a couple of degrees since the chase had begun nor had it changed speed. They’d also maintained a steady fifteen knots.

It was well past dusk when they had closed to within twenty miles of the RHIB and thus about twenty-one from the stealth ship. Juan judged they were close enough to have MacD and Eddie break off and return to the Oregon. He knew where his target would be over the next hour and wanted to be in a position to do something about it.