The Fallen Angel entered the reef the following day transformed for heavy-duty excavation, a mailbox mounted on the transom. When swung down and over the propellers, the mailbox-shaped apparatus conducted the backwash straight down, water-blasting the sea surface below. While Jeanne and her team waited and watched below for any artifacts to be uncovered, Gabe used the thrust of clean water from the Angel’s backwash to dig holes in the sea floor.
Later he joined Jeanne and Tex, who worked together dismantling the coral massif where she had discovered the Duke. The two had already discovered that the round stock of wood that she’d found previously was part of a windlass, once used to haul the ship’s anchor and long buried in the sand. Gabe had to admit the lady doc had spunk and fortitude. Determined, she chiseled as best she could with the current tugging her slender form one way, while the seabed tried to bury her flippers. With each blow of her mallet, the edible material loosened from the coral drifted away, where schools of tropical fish stood ready to take advantage of the feast.
Gabe’s pulse echoed the sounds of the hammer striking the chisel in an otherwise engulfing silence. He could feel it in his bones. Any one of the next blocks they cut from the coral could contain some of the gold lost on the Luna Azul—or a greenish-black square of silver coins bonded by silver sulfide, the chest that contained them having long since been consumed by the worms. Judging by the fevered stare behind his friend’s mask, Tex felt it too.
Pitching in, Gabe grabbed up one of the chunks of coral that Jeanne and Tex cut free of the massif and carried it to the basket to be hauled topside when it was filled. It was a grueling routine. Over the next hour and a half, he traded off jobs with Jeanne or Tex. Even with buoyancy adding to their strength, some of the coral blocks were so big that they required both Gabe and Tex to load them.
By noon, the basket sat on the deck of the Angel, filled with artifacts, most still in the debris that encased them. There were pewter spoons; a dagger hilt that appeared to be jeweled; pottery, including large-neck ceramic jugs used to carry water; and pieces of planking.
“Figures,” Gabe said, casting a dispassionate glance at the lot. “My guess is the money the Luna Azul carried in her hold is deeper in that coral. We’re going to have to mine it.”
He took a bite of a tuna roll, compliments of their team leader, who’d received a care package of American products from her mom. As much as Gabe loved Mexican food, the change was a treat.
“This is delightful, sweet. Good of you to share.”
“That’s nothing compared to this.” With a look devilish enough to put similarly wicked notions in a man’s mind, Jeanne delved into the lunch bucket and drew out a sealed plastic bag of what appeared to be . . .
Gabe’s heart nearly stilled. Nothing beat a good, ice-cold Mexican beer except—
“Friends, I give you Neta Madison’s homemade chocolate chip cookies with walnuts.” She held the bag up like the Golden Fleece that it was.
With walnuts. Gabe hadn’t had a treat like that since his own mother, not the apron-wearing baking sort, sent him a gourmet tinful the Christmas before last.
“Whoever finds the first gold or silver, the Duke excepted,” she added, “gets seconds.”
“You are on,” Stuart said, taking up her challenge.
Gabe put his hand out. “I’ll settle for firsts, if you don’t mind.”
It was the thin, near-sighted Stuart who, an hour later and with Nick’s help, hacked out and brought up a chunk of coral embedded on the bottom with black silver coins. By the end of the day, Gabe and Tex had broken loose another lot of the same, fused together in the same shape of the bag in which they’d been stored, and a pie-shaped wedge of silver had been broken loose from the coral’s hold.
Beaming, Remy held up the wedge of silver, from which he’d removed the sulfide, revealing its original luster. “Ladies and gentlemen, there is at least one barrel of this silver nearby,” he announced, in an authoritative tone that almost took Gabe back to days in the classroom. “It was often formed in wedges like this for packing in a round barrel . . . and to fool customs officials out of tariffs.”
Exhausted from working the site and fighting the current, Gabe stared at the roughening sea and savored a second cookie. Thanks to Mother Madison and her offspring’s generosity, everyone received seconds, with Stuart and Nick dividing the remaining two, not to mention the broken pieces.
Gabe hated to stop working. And even more so, he dreaded the thought of what the squall shoving black clouds at them from the south would do to their excavation site. By tomorrow morning, they’d probably have to start over, blasting away the sand that storm currents might throw back over their work area.
But the way the wind was building, there was no choice. He certainly didn’t want to ride out a storm this close to a reef. The only responsible thing to do was head for port. He ordered the mailbox lifted out of the water and tied down.
“You folks batten down anything that can be overturned or shaken loose,” he told the others. “Manolo, boys, let’s haul anchor and get out of here.”
“Pues, you think that we are close to the real treasure?” Manolo asked as he started forward.
Gabe shrugged. “Amigo, we’ll not know for certain when we will find the gold—until we see it.”
But secretly Gabe hoped they’d see it tomorrow.
“Coral, blasted relics, a little silver, but none of the gold and silver coins mentioned in the letters,” Gabe complained to Jeanne as they entered the sheltered harbor at Punta Azul after two days of hard work.
Looking around at the coral-littered deck, which had developed a pungent scent from all the marine life now baking in sun, Jeanne allowed that she was a tad disappointed too.
The Angel had made it back to port before the storm two nights before, and its crew had turned in early so that they’d be fresh for the next day’s dive. And the gang had been so psyched, they’d wasted no time in removing the little bit of sand the storm had redeposited on the site that morning. They hadn’t even taken time to eat lunch together, diving in teams, working two-hour shifts. Now at the end of a second day, they were considerably less enthused.
“We did find the astrolabe,” she pointed out. They’d brought up other things, but the navigational instrument was the highlight of the day.
Pablo had been ecstatic when they finally made out a date in its bronze—1700. The artifact would definitely go to the government for the museum.
“And it means we’re close to the treasure that shipped from Veracruz, if we can count on the letters,” she said, “which have been accurate to date.”
“If we do find it tomorrow, don’t go talking about it during fiesta on Sunday,” Gabe told her. “Although, if we do find it, I don’t think we should stop the work, Sunday or not.”
“We have to take off Sunday,” Jeanne insisted. “I’d like to give the crew the whole weekend really, but—”
“Not Saturday,” Gabe said, his tone and the set of his jaw leaving as little room for discussion about that day as Jeanne’s left regarding the Sabbath.
“Then I’ll compromise, but Sunday is a must. God has blessed us with incredible success to date and—”
“You don’t want to tick Him off?” Gabe grinned, as though he’d told himself a fine joke.
Jeanne groaned, glad for the roar of the engines covering their conversation, although most of the crew was astern, chipping coral away from their finds. “No, that’s not it at all. I just want to thank Him . . . honor Him . . . by honoring His day.”
Gabe cut a cheeky glance her way. “Tell you what, sweet. I’ll make you and your God a deal. We find the gold tomorrow, I’ll even go to your church with you on Sunday—how’s that?”
He just didn’t understand. “You don’t believe that there is a higher power at all, do you?” she asked in frustration.
Gabe shook his head. “I should hope there’s something or someone with a higher power and purpose than mankind. I’m just not sure what it is.” The fading of his cocky grin gave Jeanne incentive to go on.
“I believe it is the God of Abraham, who loves us beyond our understanding. We are totally dependent upon Him for our next breath, so surely our blessings and successes are of Him as well.”
“Like our phenomenal luck on this expedition—Prim aside.”
Always one to choose her battles with care, Jeanne ignored the jibe at Remy. “Exactly.”
She studied Gabe’s proud profile, the thoughtful press of his lips and unfathomable depth of his eyes. Was Gabe’s mind opening to the reality of God’s work with them? Witnesses of all manner filled her brain as the boat glided toward the gas dock for refueling, but not every one of them was suited for this man at this moment.
With a line in hand, Manolo jumped off the Angel and onto the dock in a race to tie off the bow, while Gabe used the engines’ thrust to swing the stern into a parallel position with the gas tanks. As the side of the boat softly kissed the bumpers on the dock and Nick tied off the stern, Gabe cut the engines.
Turning, he gathered Jeanne in his arms and brushed his lips across her forehead. “If it’s any consolation, sweet, you make me want to believe.” With that, he walked away, bounding down the steps to the stern and taking all the warmth with him.
“Oh, oh, big trouble, amigo,” Manolo shouted from the gas tank.
Jeanne pressed her face to the bridge window to see the deckhand pointing to a large handmade sign taped to the tank.
Ninguna gasolina hasta el lunes. No fuel till until Monday.
“Oh, blast—” Gabe broke off, glancing her way. “This won’t do. Not at all.”
Jeanne tried not to look too triumphant. A weekend of rest and a little fun couldn’t hurt. “We’ll be twice as ready on Monday . . . after the truck arrives with the gas.”
Gabe slammed his fist into his palm. “I’m going to make some calls.” He looked at Tex. “What about you? Can you call in some favors?”
Tex chewed on the fringe of his mustache for a moment. “Amigo, just let the dead horse lie.”
Jeanne jumped in. “The way I see it, we have a choice. We can let this ruin our weekend off or we can look at it as a gift, a mini-vacation to prepare us for what’s going to be a long, hard two weeks ahead.”
Gabe glared at her. Clearly, he didn’t see it her way.