48

“The investor sent another update,” said Mr. Wi-Fi, presenting Oracle with his laptop.

Lifting the silver-mirrored aviator sunglasses from his nose, the pirate leader peered at the digital photo displayed on the laptop screen. A wash of turquoise-blue waters kissed the white sands of a palm-fringed bay, behind which rose a mist-shrouded peak.

“What island is that?”

“Mahé,” replied Mr. Wi-Fi.

Oracle raised a dubious eyebrow. “There are countless islands that look the same. How can you be so certain?”

Mr. Wi-Fi right-clicked on the image, opening up its EXIF metadata file. “Because the photo has the exact geo-location embedded within it. Along with a time stamp indicating the precise moment it was taken—14:32 today.”

Oracle reclined against his gold-tasseled bolster in the shaded living room and laughed. “Oh, the benefits of modern technology and the naiveté of young people. They’re almost inviting us to join them!”

Reaching across to a cup on an inlaid ivory tray, he took a sip of spiced black tea. He savored the taste a moment before asking, “What other information has the investor provided?”

Sitting cross-legged on the crimson rug before his boss, Mr. Wi-Fi tugged casually at his goatee. “The Orchid is on a northeast bearing, headed for the Maldives. Estimated voyage time four days.”

“And where are my men now?”

Mr. Wi-Fi brought up an electronic chart of the Indian Ocean on his laptop. Zooming in, he pointed to a cluster of tiny green dots visible amid a vast swath of blue.

“They’re seventy-five nautical miles northwest of the target.”

“Then tell Spearhead to stop playing with small fry,” said Oracle, putting down his tea. “It’s time to reel in the big fish.”