The helicopter was moving in a northeasterly direction when Herbert’s phone beeped. All eyes save the pilot’s turned to him. Herbert could not see the eyes clearly in the dark. But he knew what was in them.

Hope. They wanted information, a shred of intelligence, a place to look. Anything. Jelbart lowered the binoculars he had been using. He and Loh looked to Bob Herbert’s expression for a quick indication of whether Op-Center had learned something.

Herbert listened for a moment, then shook his head once. Without comment, Loh and Jelbart went back to looking out the windows. Ahead of them was Osprey Reef, which lay 210 miles from Cairns. It was a popular shark-watching spot for tourists. Herbert wished that were an omen.

The pilot turned to his passengers. “We’re nearly at the point of no return,” he shouted back. “If we don’t start back in the next fifteen minutes or so, we won’t reach the refueling depot.”

Herbert acknowledged with a nod. He looked past the reef. It was odd. He had never felt trapped in his wheelchair. But he felt trapped now in a fast-moving helicopter unhindered by roads and mountains. That was because he lacked information and the means to get it. Ignorance was not bliss. It was a prison.

Herbert blinked his tired eyes. He raised them to the horizon. It had a slightly ruddy hue. He looked at his watch. It was not quite three A.M. It was too early for dawn.

“People, have a look at the eastern horizon,” Herbert said. “What do you make of that?”

“It can’t be sunrise,” Loh said.

Jelbart turned his binoculars in that direction. “No. There are individual lights out there.” He tapped the pilot on the shoulder and pointed. “Let’s have a look before we go back.”

The pilot nodded and swung the Bell toward the faint glow. Jelbart continued to study the lights with his binoculars.

“You know, those lights are the color of distress flares,” Jelbart said.

Herbert thought the same thing. White flares were for a person overboard. Yellow flares were for working a line-throwing apparatus. Orange meant the user was stranded but safe. The colors were different so that the flares could provide light without needlessly summoning surrounding vessels.

Jelbart lowered his binoculars and pressed the headphones to his ears. He and the pilot were obviously receiving a message.

“One of the planes saw the light, too,” Jelbart said excitedly. “Definitely flares, looks like a ketch is going down.”

“Any fires?” Herbert asked.

Jelbart shook his head.

“Lifeboats?” Loh asked.

“Not that they could see,” Jelbart replied.

“A ketch,” Herbert said thoughtfully. “A boat like that wouldn’t seem out of place here, would it?”