“Are we lucky it wasn’t a civilian. But coast guard, huh? I don’t like it. Did they see inside the cabin?”

“No, not really. The bodies are still in the part of the plane that’s underwater. We lucked out there.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean by ‘not really’?” Reyland said, squinting.

“Well, the coast guard went through standard rescue procedures when they spotted it. One of the rescue divers went down to check for survivors. Don’t worry. I’m already getting any and all tape and making plans to isolate the crew.”

“We on the way?”

“Yes, Ruiz should be wheels up with our team by now. Luckily, there was a salvage vessel out of Norfolk out training. It’s six hours away. Ruiz has some ex-SEALs with him. They’ll go under and get everything that needs getting off. All in all, it’s looking about as good as we could have hoped.”

“I don’t like it,” Reyland said. “The coast guard is out of our purview. I don’t have to tell you the lid we need on this.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t be a problem,” Emerson said. “I’ll send word again that the coast guard is to completely stand down and babysit until Ruiz and the navy vessel show up, and we get it all the hell out of there.

“By the way, London called again. Twice. But I stalled them like you said. Also, have you figured out how you’re going to tell Cathy?”

“Who?”

“Cathy. You know, Dunning’s wife.”

“Oh. No. I haven’t. Not yet. Shit. She thinks he’s at a conference in Italy. I mean, imagine? Add telling her the great Dunning is dead to the list of my magic tricks.”

“I could do it, boss, if you want,” Emerson said quickly.

Reyland’s gray eyes squinted as he sat up, suddenly noticing the eager-beaver tone in Emerson’s voice.

He was really all over everything, wasn’t he? Reyland thought. London. Their military contacts. You bet he was. Trying to use the crisis to climb a rung or two.

What’s the expression? Never let one go to waste?

There was a long beat of silence in the cold of the small room. Down in the living room, Reyland heard the wind in the chimney suddenly chime like a bell.

“You’re right, boss,” Emerson finally said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

9

After over an hour of monotonous black ocean, the sudden deck lights of the USCGC Surmount were as bright as a rock concert.

Ruby’s stomach churned in time to the change in pitch of the chopper’s turboshaft engines as they came to a hover. She loved flying in airplanes and was actually a licensed pilot herself, but like so many others in the military, helicopters always made her nervous.

As they swung in above the rear flight deck helipad, outside the window she could see several sailors in life jackets and hard hats along the 270-foot cutter’s aft rail.

“Okay, Lieutenant, if you’re ready, we’re going to lower you down in the bucket,” the Dolphin crew chief said with his Southern accent in her intercom headphones.