Page 33 of Fake Dating the SEAL
“Ready?” he asked, his voice all business.
Sara met his gaze over her regulator, her eyes bright and clear. She gave a sharp nod. Together, they executed a back roll off the side, the cool embrace of the ocean a welcome shock that instantly cleared his head.
The world below was a comforting blanket of light and color. Golden shafts of sun pierced the surface, illuminating schools of parrotfish that flashed like jewels against the sprawling, intricate architecture of the reef. Sea fans waved gracefully in the current. Fish startled by the intrusion darted away. He watched Sara move through the water, her movements fluid and confident. Her pleasure in the life around her a joy to watch. He fell into his familiar position—slightly above and behind her, a silent, watchful guardian. It was a role he’d played a thousand times, but with her, the stakes felt infinitely higher.
They swam toward the galley site, the energy of the reef life giving way to a more somber, quiet landscape. A short distance away, Kurt and Chloe were already working, their movements slow and methodical. Then, Kenny saw Chloe stop. She hung suspended in the water for a moment, waving Kurt to her side. The two focused on something nearby. Kurt shook his head andthen turned, signaling for Kenny to join them as Chloe held the camera, clicking away.
When they reached the kids, the peaceful beauty of the dive shattered. The delicate, sandy bottom resembled the remnants of a kid’s sand castle washed away by the tide. Lumps where there shouldn’t be, holes where there shouldn’t be, fragile, ancient coral heads were shattered, their white skeletons a stark violation against the blue. This had all the earmarks of a smash-and-grab.
He caught Sara’s eye; her own were wide with anger. Without another signal needed, he jerked his thumb toward the surface. The dive was over.
Back on the boat, the silence was heavy, broken only by the clank of gear being set on the deck. Staring at the images on her daughter’s camera, Abigail shook her head. “Why?”
Kenny stripped off his BCD and walked to the bow, needing a moment of separation before he made the call. Billy at his side, he punched in Nick’s number.
“They were here. And they weren’t gentle. Who knows what they found—or if they’ll be back.”
Nick swore, a low, sharp sound. “That explains the call I just got. A buddy down at the marina says Vance hired a couple of local divers this morning. Let’s just say, these guys aren’t known for their ethics. The kind of guys brought in when there’s no concern over collateral damage.”
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Vance wasn’t going to be patient and he didn’t care who or what got in his way. “We need to start talking about 24/7 site security, and we need it yesterday.”
A few more words and Nick promised to get on the extra help ASAP.
The professor stood by his wife, watching the horizon through binoculars. Before Kenny could explain the newdevelopment, the professor slowly lowered the binoculars. “Well,” his voice quiet and dangerously calm, “it looks like this morning was a bust.”
Before anyone could say a word, the man had his fingers to his lips and was scribbling on a piece of paper. “They’re back. And they’re closing in.”
None of this morning had gone the way they’d expected. Until now. Sara kept a casual eye on the boat cutting slowly across the water, its approach both arrogant and predatory. Unlike the previous days when the boat had stopped too far to see, this time the poachers stopped closer than before, but far enough away to maintain a sliver of plausible deniability. The game had begun.
“Well.” Hands on her hips, Abigail Thorne projected her voice loud enough to ensure she was heard, but not so loud to be out of place. The lady probably would have done a great job on stage. “That makes two morning dives and nothing to show for it except some worthless pottery chips. Could we have made a mistake?”
“Mistake? I’ve spent years following the tides, the storms, calculating.” Though the professor’s words were harsh, his expression was calm. The man played along beautifully. Running his hand through his hair he stood over the charts. “Maybe I was too cocky.”
Sara wanted to applaud. So far the performance was masterful.
“One more dive,” Professor Thorne announced to his audience. “If it’s another bust, we go back to the drawing board and figure out where we went wrong.”
“Don’t worry, Dad.” Kurt put his hand on his father’s arm. “We’ll figure it out, one way or another.”
“I guess everyone back in the water.” Abigail Thorne waved her arms toward the stern.
Kenny bit down hard on his back teeth, the tension in his jaw clearly visible. He pulled out a dive slate and wrote quietly:Don’t want you going back down.
Taking the slate away from him, Sara wrote back:Can’t dive alone. Suspicious if I stay.
She could see him weighing the situation. Finally, he nodded and wrote:Stay close. Very close.
For the next forty five minutes, they swam yards away from the location of the overnight damage. Every so often, Chloe would pull out her camera and snap a picture. They filled a bag with some miscellaneous bits of rock when Sara noticed Chloe freeze. Sara took a look around, wondering what had she seen. When Kurt eased to her side and his head jerked up, Sara knew something was up. Chloe started snapping photos like a photographer at a Paris fashion shoot.
Too curious to resist, she signaled for Kenny to follow her. When she reached the siblings it took her a long while to figure out what had gotten them so excited, and then she realized, the rock encrusted formation underneath them wasn’t rock, it was cannons. They’d found their wreck.
Now getting that assist overseeing the site was even more crucial than before. Chloe and Kurt ascended first, Kenny and Sara just behind them. Unable to say a word about the find, everyone did their best to pretend it was another unsuccessful effort, when Chloe spun around frantically. “No.”
Her father’s brow furrowed. Heads turned, no one quite sure if this was more acting.
Her back to the water between them and the other ship, she whispered, “My camera. I must have dropped it.”
“I’ll get it.” Kenny’s voice left no room for argument. He was already reaching for a fresh air tank.
