Henri’s pale eyes looked at him, and Cole felt him asking for forgiveness.

“You had a family to think about, Henri.”

The old man nodded, then opened the box and withdrew a sheet of paper. He handed it to Cole. “This is a sketch of what I could see on Îles de la Petite Terre and the other island Marie Galante. I went back on my father-in-law’s fishing boat after the war and came up with this best guess as to the position where Surcouf went down.” He pointed to an X on the sketched chart. “The water is thirty to fifty meters deep and then –” The old man lowered his hand to indicate the drop off. He started coughing again, and his granddaughter walked around behind him and patted him on the back. When he could speak, he reached out and grasped Cole’s forearm. “Do what I should have done years ago. Find her. Find Surcouf and Operation Magic for me and for your father.”

Cole knelt down in front of the old man and looked into his pale blue eyes, now red-rimmed and shiny with tears.

“I will Henri. I promise. And when I do, I’ll come back to tell you all about it.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

Aboard the Bonefish

Scott’s Head Bay, Dominica

March 30, 2008

3:05 p.m.

Riley screwed the cap on the diesel jerry jug she had just emptied into her tank, and she looked up at Cole. “We’ve got to get moving.”

Bonefish was rafted up alongside the Shadow Chaser in the Scott’s Head Bay anchorage. Earlier, as they had hurried back to the dinghy from Michaut’s house, Riley mentioned she was concerned about how much fuel she had left on board after motor sailing nearly the whole way from the Saintes to Dominca. Cole insisted she bring her boat alongside the big trawler to top off her tanks.

He pumped his hand like a conductor signaling the violins to bring the volume down. “Almost there,” he said.

Theo’s face appeared at the rail. “Hey cap, I’ve got the radar running and we’ve got a suspicious target out there.” He hoisted another yellow plastic jug over the cap rail and handed it down to Cole. “This is the last one, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole said.

Riley checked her watch. “Cole, it’s almost 3:30. Theo, what was that about the radar?”

“We’ve got an AIS receiver, you know the Automatic Identification System, so I can see the names on some of the radar targets. There’s a cruise ship and a smaller cargo ship up off Roseau. On my screen, when I go out to the twenty-four mile range, there are a couple of boats that aren’t broadcasting any AIS data. We don’t know who they are. And one is headed south along the coast, coming fast. Faster than that boat the Brewsters had in the Saintes – racing boat faster. It might be a pleasure boat, but it worries me.”

Riley poured the last of the diesel into her fuel tank deck fill. She didn’t like that news much either. They’d tarried too long here already. “Theo, have you thought about going outside Dominica — along the Atlantic coast?” she asked. “It would mean a bumpy ride, but it would put the island between us and anybody who might be heading south looking for us.”

Theo slapped his hand on the cap rail. “I like the way you think, Captain Riley. I’ll go check the milage on that route.”

She screwed the cap on the last jug and stood. Her legs were stiff from kneeling on the deck.

Cole slipped his arms around her. “I wish you’d come with us on Shadow Chaser. Leave Bonefish here. We could set a second anchor.”

“I can’t, Cole. She’s my home. God only knows what that maniac would do to her if he found her unattended. I know your boat is faster, but I’ll be right behind you.”

“And if that maniac finds you alone on your boat in the middle of the channel? I’m having a hard time putting that picture out of my head.”

“If he’s going to find anybody, it’s going to be you. You’re bigger, more visible from satellites and it’s possible there is some sort of tracking device on there.” She nodded toward his boat.

“Right. You know I’ll be searching for that damn thing all night,” he said. “Do you have a weapon aboard?”

“No, most of these islands impound your weapons while you’re visiting. And I never wanted to lie on my Customs declarations. Of course, now I’m wishing I had. What about you?”

He shook his head. “No guns. Same reasons.”

“Cole, listen, if we’re all together on your boat and we don’t have any weapons, what makes you think I’d be safer with you? He’s already tracked your boat to Dominica once. They’re on one boat. It’s standard operating procedure not to put all your eggs in one basket. It makes more sense to split up.”

Theo leaned over the rail above their heads. He coughed and they moved apart. “Riley, I think you’ve hit on a great idea. It’s only a few miles more for us to go out and around the southern tip of the island. After that, it’s a straight shot to the area your man has marked on his chart. It will be rough, though. The forecast is for winds a little north of east at eighteen to twenty knots, stronger in gusts.”

Riley grabbed one of her shrouds and shook it. “She’s a tough old girl. She’ll be fine. It will slow us down, but we’ll get there by morning.”

“And what about you?” Cole asked, his arm around her waist again.

“I know how to take care of myself. You know, we’d better get moving.”

He swung around to face her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and lifted her feet off the ground. Nose to nose, he said, “You know, you are one stubborn lady.”

“Right back at ya, Mister.”

 “You be safe, Magee,” he said and then closed his mouth over hers.

It did not take long for Shadow Chaser to disappear over the horizon once they’d rounded the southern tip of the island. That had happened even before it got dark. Now, she and Bonefish were alone, pounding into the wind under a double-reefed main and partially rolled up headsail,  making no more than five knots over the bottom. The sea was confused with a large north swell and the smaller wind chop from north of east. The combination made the ocean here feel like a popcorn patch.

Riley adjusted the lines on her safety harness and pulled up the hood of her foul weather jacket. She sat tucked under the dodger, thankful her autopilot was handling the steering for her so she didn’t have to sit back there behind the wheel where spume filled the air most of the time. The air temperature was warm enough, but with all the spray flying across the boat, she was shivering. Her T-shirt beneath the jacket was already damp from a wave that had caught her without her hood up and doused cold seawater down her neck. She was still only wearing shorts and her feet were cold and puckered from the constant wet.

“Ah, the joys of sailing, eh Mikey?” Her brother hadn’t ever cared much for foul weather.

Riley remembered that time when they’d sailed with their father back to Antigua and they had been caught in a squall with full sails up. Her father had ordered Michael to take down the main and Riley had shouldered her brother aside and lowered the sail herself. She knew her brother could do many things in math or science that she would never be able to do. They each had their strengths.

Her father had called her brother a weakling who’d let a girl do his job. His disdain for his son had always been there. That was why she had always “blamed” him for Michael’s death.

“Oh dad,” she said aloud. It appears you were the weak one – unable to protect your own son. And yet, he was her father, too, and in spite of his weakness, he had not deserved to die like that. All last night as she’d traveled south, she had gone over and over it in her mind. The real blame lay with a man she had once slept with, maybe even loved – and the organization.

Riley shuddered and pulled her rain jacket closed under her chin. Concentrate on the task at hand, marine.