51

Connor yawned and looked at his watch—5:30 a.m.

Zipping up his jacket to fend off the chilly sea breeze, he paced the top deck. Through the night-vision lenses of his sunglasses, the stars appeared overly bright in the sky, like theater spotlights, and the sea shimmered as if awash with mercury.

Raising the binoculars to his eyes, he performed another sweep of the horizon. So far the only other vessels he’d sighted were a fishing trawler and the long, low profile of an oil tanker. Both had glided by in distant silence, no more than ghosts in the night.

Connor stifled another yawn. His lookout duty was progressing with painful slowness. He couldn’t believe that he still had another two and a half hours to go, but at least the sun would be up soon. The faintest of glows was now visible to the east, pushing back the curtain of night.

As he completed his sweep, his eye caught a glint of something directly to the Orchid’s stern. Adjusting the focus on his binoculars, he zoomed in on the point near the horizon, but the roll of the yacht made it hard to keep the image steady.

Was that a boat? A wave? Or just another whale?

He’d spotted a small pod of humpback whales within the first ten minutes of his watch. The spray from their blowholes had looked like fountains of silver through his night-vision glasses. It was his first encounter with these magnificent creatures, and he’d been spellbound by their appearance. Then the whales had dived deep and he’d lost them among the waves.

It seemed this was the case again. He scanned the ocean once more but saw nothing. Then his attention was grabbed by the faint reflection of a flashing light from the main deck below. He leaned over the rail, but couldn’t detect the source.

Descending two flights of steps, he made his way to the starboard side and discovered Emily standing beside the rail.

“Morning,” he said.

She snapped her head around in surprise, but quickly recovered and greeted him with a wry smile. “Barely,” she replied.

“Did you see a flashing light?”

Emily shook her head. “Only just got here. Maybe it was from the salon as I walked through?”

Connor frowned. “Possibly, but the beam seemed more focused than that.” He looked up and down the deck, but all was dark.

Emily stared at him, then waved a hand in front of his face. “Can you even see? Why are you wearing sunglasses at night?”

“Oh, these.” Connor flipped them back off his head. He wasn’t sure if Amir wanted the secrets of his gear revealed, so he replied, “They’re part of the standard-issue Guardian uniform. Sometimes I forget I’m wearing them.”

“Well, you’re missing out on the sunrise,” said Emily, turning to the rail and admiring the expanding halo of red fire on the horizon.

Connor joined her. “Is that why you’re up so early?”

“Not really. I was finding it hard to sleep.” She glanced timidly at him. “Nightmares.”

Connor nodded, but didn’t press any further. He could only imagine what horrors she dreamed of after her kidnapping ordeal.

The sun continued its ascent, heralding another glorious day at sea.

“I’m feeling a little hungry,” Emily announced. “Chef usually leaves some snacks in the galley. Can I get you anything?”

Having risen so early, Connor suddenly realized that he was ravenous. “That would be great. I’d kill for an orange juice and a piece of toast.”

“No need to go that far!” Emily laughed. “I’ll see what I can find.”

She headed inside, leaving Connor alone with the sunrise. Its first golden rays graced the ocean, streaking the tops of the waves a deep molten orange. Lulled by the view, Connor almost drifted into Code White . . . but was snapped back to full alert by the glimpse of several dark shapes on the horizon.