Chapter 6 – High Seas Exposure

 

Burke was up long before the sun, and not just to replenish his tanks and stock up on food and supplies. He’d been caught unawares the previous morning and hadn’t had the opportunity to get a better understanding of his dive site, and he wasn’t about to go out without being properly informed a second time. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and hunched his large frame over the laptop in the v-berth of Empire.

The topographical and diving-specific details were a little different but still predictable to someone with his experience. He could see why the tide was so powerful in this location. Checking the lunar tables, he recognized that the flow would grow stronger each day as the moon exerted greater and greater influence, getting a few minutes later in the evening. Burke made a mental note to keep that in mind; with only his tether connecting him to Julian’s Empire II as he dove, it was imperative that he stay ahead of any problems.

But that wasn’t the only reason Burke was surfing the web while stars still shone brightly overhead. He wanted to know what Kensie was after. Of course, he had no reason to care why this young woman wanted to travel all the way out to some hump of sand – he was being properly compensated for his time – but Kensie’s story just didn’t add up. And for some unknown reason, he was desperate to know more.

She was far too intelligent to be treasure hunting on a whim, and her careful and methodical search pattern was scientific and precise. The geology and topography of the area was interesting, but hardly unique. She could have done her “research” in a hundred other places from Nova Scotia to Florida instead of travelling all the way down here. And her metal detector? She’d claimed it was to locate magnetic anomalies, which made about as much sense as using a divining rod to search for a lost wallet.

He pulled up a listing of shipwrecks and started plotting their locations against Fraunce’s Shoal. Not surprisingly, there were many more known wrecks on the western side of St. Vincent than the east. What sane captain would want to take his ship through the rougher, less-predictable Atlantic when he could stay in the relatively safe confines of the Caribbean? Even the triangle that could be formed between St. Vincent, Grenada, and Barbados had only a few wrecks marked there. If there was a sunken ship near where they were diving, Kensie appeared to be the only one that knew about it. He should’ve asked around the island for more details about the location, but there hadn’t been time.

He kept running into dead-ends with each theory. No matter how he tried to configure a voyage, there was no reason to steer so far offshore towards Fraunce’s Shoal, when an inshore track, nearer the lee of the islands, would do. It was far safer, especially if this trip had been before modern electronic communications, and good sailors respected the sea and the power it held. You would only be that far offshore to stay hidden from other ships… or people on the islands… who might see or remember something… if asked in the right way.

Like if you were a pirate and had just stolen something.

The idea made Burke smile at first. Was he after real, actual pirate plunder? Buried treasure? That was the stuff of fanciful legend and old books and, although he wanted to dismiss the idea as a delusion of his not-totally-awake mind, he could not think of anything that would force him to disqualify the possibility.

“Son of a bitch,” he mused to the bulkhead. It would explain the white lies Kensie was telling him and everything about her diving habits. He’d have to watch her with a more critical eye today.

A hint of dark blue on the eastern horizon caught his attention, and he looked at his watch. It was time for him to stop playing detective and start being a boat captain. Gathering up yesterday’s exhausted tanks, he put them, along with the oversize cooler, on his little pull-cart and headed down the dock to get the supplies he needed for the long day ahead.

***

Burke was doing his final gear check when he saw Kensie’s lithe figure moving down the dock towards him. He made a show of inspecting the mask that he currently held, appearing to concentrate hard enough to see the molecular structure of the plastic, but the mask could have been made from rock candy for all he saw; he looked past it to home in on the tiny wag of her hips as they propelled her towards him. He found himself nearly mesmerized by the rhythm of her movements and imagined she was doing it for his benefit.

“Morning, Captain,” Kensie said in the hushed tone that suggested she hadn’t quite shaken off the last vestiges of sleep. Burke dropped any pretenses and gave her his full attention – and nearly dropped the mask he held. Unlike yesterday, the button-down shirt she wore was open, exposing her upper body through her bathing suit. Even though it was a one-piece that covered her midriff, the material was both thin and clingy enough that he could make out the bottom curves of her impressive breasts and the outline of her nipples in the dim morning light. He blinked, but it wasn’t easy taking his eyes off of her.

Her shorts did little to hide the pronounced curve of her hips, and he somehow found that more enticing than upper body. He felt powerless to stop the mental movie that played in his head, of him lying on his back in his bunk, his hands grasping those hips (but without those shorts) as Kensie straddled him, those expressive lips parted in a silent moan, her head thrown back, her naked chest heaving as she slid up and down on his rigid –

“Uh, Captain Burke?”

He started back to reality. “Sorry, Kensie. You caught me in the middle of a thought.” He glanced at his watch, even though he knew exactly what time it was. “You’re early.”

Kensie nodded. “I figured I could give you a hand getting ready. I’ve got a limited amount of time left here, and there’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“That’s true. I’m actually pretty much all set, so come aboard and we’ll shove off.” She complied and stowed her pack as Burke fired up the clamorous engines, and momentarily they were out of the privacy of the little cul-de-sac and moving through the main harbor. There was a little activity ashore as people made preparations for another day on the water, but no other boats were moving yet. He expected Kensie to stand by the conn as she had yesterday, but instead she sat at the small table in the main cabin, spreading notes and papers about and making small piles as she skimmed each one. As soon as he cleared the entrance and ensured that there were no boats or other obstacles in their proximity, he put the autopilot on and leaned over.

“Whatcha doin’?”

She gave him a quick glance. “Since we have all this time, I need to record my findings and progress from yesterday and see if I found something I can use.”

“Wouldn’t you recognize a clue right when you found it?”

“Not necessarily. There’s far too much data to analyze real-time,” she explained patiently. “When you see trends or things that can’t be coincidental, that’s what you follow.”

“Oh, I see,” Burke said neutrally. Of course, you didn’t notate a damn thing yesterday. Why are you lying to me?

“In fact, I might have to bring up some sand to take back to school for more study.”

“You do realize that you can’t bring sand or rocks from the island – or any island, for that matter – into the US without the permission of the USDA Plant Protection and Quarantine Permit Unit?” By the look on her face, he was willing to bet that the issue had not crossed her mind.

“No, I didn’t. I guess I’ll have to figure that out before I head home,” she said kind of lamely.

“Yeah, you might,” Burke said, working to contain his amusement. “Maybe you can do your analysis before you get back on the ship.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she answered. “Maybe I won’t have to take stuff home, or maybe just a tiny amount. Do you really think a customs agent is going to be looking for a little baggie of dirt?”

“No. They’ll be looking for other stuff in baggies.”

She laughed. “If you knew me better, you’d realize how crazy that idea is. I tried pot one time in college – I turned green and almost threw up.”

She’s trying to change the subject. “You do strike me as a little clean-cut.”

She raised an eyebrow sarcastically, affecting an offended look. “Do I now? What do you use as a measuring stick?”

“Mostly the clientele I take out,” he said before turning a little more serious. “You’d be amazed at the number of people who either board the boat shit-faced or swig a dozen beers and then think they’re all good to go down.”

“Really? Do people have that little common sense?”

“I don’t think it’s a lack of common sense. It’s the lowered inhibitions. They’re in the tropics, on vacation, they want to have a good time, and the rules don’t matter for the week they’re here. But I don’t think I have to worry about that with you. You’re working and, like I said, I don’t see you as someone who needs to let her hair down so recklessly.” He stood up quickly and scanned the horizon to make sure everything was still clear before addressing her once more. “I’ll let you get back to work. I’ve got a boat to drive, and maybe we can get out there a little faster today.”

“Thanks.”

He returned to the wheel, adjusting course and pushing the throttle forward a bit further than he had yesterday. I’ve got a funny feeling this is going to be an interesting day.

***

Kensie wasn’t thrilled with the questions that Burke was asking, even though she would have done exactly the same thing had their roles been reversed. She was shocked when he mentioned the restrictions about taking items from an island back to the states, because that was the first time she realized that similar rules probably applied to salvage that had a significant monetary value. She didn’t really know – and hadn’t considered – the legality of doing so. She could try and pass it off as cheesy fake jewelry (who would expect anyone to come back with something worth hundreds of millions of dollars?) but had no idea if that would work. You might be smart, Kens, but you didn’t think this one through.

Well, she’d have to deal with that issue when and if it presented itself. There was no sense worrying about Step 38 when she was still on Step 5. She looked at the markings she’d made, wondering if she could figure out a way to cover more ground in less time but still be thorough. Her plan, to cover every inch of ground by going back and forth, probably wasn’t going to cut it, at least not until she found something that she could use as a new starting point. Maybe she could alternate grid spots? A debris trail would spread out all over the place, so she could double her search speed and still find anything that was there.

She ruminated over her plan, and soon the rocking of the boat and the grinding of the engine faded into the background. Kensie wondered if she could enlist Burke’s help beyond having him just stay as top cover. He seemed competent and knowledgeable, and she figured she could request his services with a decent-sounding cover story that didn’t divulge her true intentions. She’d have to figure out how to get him out of her way if he found something so she could be the one to actually find the Couronne and keep it hidden from him. He seemed nice enough, but there was no telling what he might do if he was next to her when she found it or actually dug it out of the mud himself. Good job, Kens. You picked a guy who’s 6 inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier than you, and you’re out here alone with him. She shook her head; sometimes her own audacity surprised her.

If she did find the Couronne, she’d wondered where her financial obligation to Burke ended. Did she owe him anything more than the agreed-upon fee (which she’d already given him for today), or was he entitled to a percentage of the salvage? Right was right, and it would be an affront to her sense of decency to hog all the credit and any reward she might get. She’d have to give him something extra for being willing to take her out here.

And what kind of ‘extra’ are you thinking about?

The thought jumped into her mind unbidden, but she wasn’t willing to ignore it. She caught the way his eyes locked onto her chest at the dock, and only belatedly realized that the cool morning breeze off the water had given her nipples a bit of an early wake up call. He’d played it off, but it took no great leap of woman’s intuition to know what the male mind was thinking at that moment. Rather than offend or bother her, she felt a little flattered. Kensie wasn’t usually the object of a man’s attention, so when one as drop-dead gorgeous as Burke assessed her body and gave it at least a passing grade, she took it as a complement, staring at his lips as they’d stumbled through his poor excuse for ogling her.

Truth be told, she had no objection to the thought of having those lips all over her, at least as an abstract idea. In contrast to the chronic scruff on his jaw, they appeared soft and inviting, and she could imagine the way they would feel capturing her neck between them, softly sucking at the skin, moving downward over the top of her breast bone, pulling aside the fabric of her swimsuit to find that her nipples had gone from slightly-hard-in-the-chilly-air to rock-hard-from-the-way-he-used-them-on-her. And when they closed over the sensitive nub, she could feel her own mouth drop open at the exquisite tingling that ran from her chest down through her belly and right to the very center of her –

The engines quieted and the boat began to slow. Shaking her head to get back to reality, she got up and stuck her head out through the hatch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Burke said, giving her a funny look. “We’re here.”

Kensie glanced at her watch. “Already?” It had only been about an hour and 50 minutes, far less than their travel time the day before.

“Better sea conditions, so we ran a little faster,” Burke explained. “Are you OK? You look kinda flushed.”

Kensie realized the mini-fantasy had gotten the better of her. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little stuffy below and I was kind of focusing on work and not paying attention.”

“Cool,” Burke replied, shrugging. “I’m going to put us right on the same GPS spot I used yesterday. Does that work for you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.”

“OK. I’ll drop the anchors. Go ahead and suit up.”

***

Kensie waited for the bubbles that accompanied their entry into the water to dissipate before she keyed her mic button. “All set?” she asked Burke, who was treading water a few feet above her.

“You’re good to go,” he responded.

She used her hand-held GPS to return to the area she had already searched, immediately creating a new way point and getting down to the tedious but necessary task of waving the detector back and forth like she was weed-whacking the bottom. She didn’t want to ask Burke to help her search, not yet. She still had time. Today was going to be the day, she kept telling herself. Today I’m going to find something that confirms that I’m in the right place, that my theory was right, that points me in the right direction.

Reality disagreed. When Burke called down to remind her to check her air, she hadn’t gotten a single hit. She looked back at the underwater slope, surprised at how much she’d covered, but daunted by how much more was waiting. With a little frustration, she kicked her legs to propel herself upwards.

“How’d it go,” Burke asked once she was back on deck, handing her a bottle of water as she took a few minutes to rest. Diving was hard work.

She drained a third of the bottle with one prolonged gulp. It seemed weird that, after being immersed in water for the better part of an hour, she was always parched after a dive. “Well, I covered a lot of ground. No anomalies, at least nothing I noticed. But that just means I’m eliminating all the wrong spots and getting closer to the right one.”

Burke gave her a crooked smile that suggested she was being a bit pollyanna-ish. “You don’t lack for confidence.”

If you only knew how much I’m faking that. “I’m one of those people who thinks a positive attitude helps you get things done.”

“Well, then far be it for me to dissuade you. Whenever you want to get back to it, I’m ready.”

***

Keep going. Just keep looking. The more ground you cover, the better chance you have. Kensie kept repeating the encouragement to herself, almost like a chant. Self-doubt was poking around the edge of her consciousness, and letting it in would be like admitting defeat. She couldn’t just expect something like this to fall in her lap, she knew. She had to work at it.

Knowing that and believing it, however, were very different things. She was getting angry; at her stupid idea, at the NAS for not listening to her, at the world for not letting her find what she needed to find. So she pressed on. Scan. Mark. Move. At least the monotony kept her from thinking about how she would feel if she – wasn’t successful. She almost used the word wrong but stopped herself. She knew she was right. She just had to be patient.

Weeahhhwuhh!

Kensie was so surprised by the emphatic response coming through her headphones from the detector that she nearly dropped it before regaining her senses. Waving the head back and forth several times, she got a rough fix on whatever she had found and immediately marked a waypoint on her portable GPS. She turned to look surreptitiously at Burke, but he either hadn’t noticed her abrupt movement or hadn’t cared. With slow, steady movements, she removed her shovel and started to delicately dig, pushing the sand aside and trying to ignore the voice in her head that was telling her hurry up!

She dug deeper and deeper, throwing up a huge cloud of sediment so big that eventually there was no hiding what she was doing. It couldn’t be helped, but the less she told Burke, the better. Sure, he was cute (OK, fucking gorgeous!) but she still wasn’t comfortable giving him any more information than necessary.

She heard Burke key his transmitter. “You find something, Kensie?”

Shit. “Maybe. There’s quite a shift in the magnetic field right here. It’s worth checking out.”

Burke merely grunted. He seemed to vacillate between insightful questions and casual disinterest without rhyme or reason, but this wasn’t the time to care. She had to concentrate on her work. If there was something of value right below her, she couldn’t lose it or damage it by being careless or hasty.

Clink.

It was the softest of reports, barely enough to feel through the handle of the shovel, but it was unmistakable, unlike the natural metal deposit she’d struck the day before. It felt different. Carefully, she reached into the sand, pushing down slowly to get under the return so as to not further displace whatever it was. Her index finger hit something solid and straight, and she knew from experience that straight lines rarely existed in nature.

Leaving her hand in place, she retrieved her seine net and started working it into place a couple of inches behind the object so she could scoop it up. She refused to break contact with whatever it is; it would be far too easy to lose it despite it being so close, so she pushed the net along her hand until she was sure it was directly underneath the item. Then, with agonizing slowness that belied her urgency, she pulled it up and guided the artifact until she felt the mesh give way to the unyielding presence of an item far larger – and heavier – than sand.

Gotcha!

Of course, pulling it out released another storm cloud of sand and sediment, so she had no choice but to wait one more interminable minute until the water cleared and she could get a good look at it.

It was a nail, but not a nail that one would buy in bulk from Home Depot. The head was rounded, but unevenly, and the first centimeter or so of the shaft was round as well, while the remainder of it was four-sided, tapering down to a dull point. Even in the water, Kensie could feel the substantial weight, making the nail wrought-iron. She felt almost light-headed. This was a lead, a real lead.

More. She needed more. One nail could be a random occurrence, but several established a pattern. Not only would it help her search, it would be real evidence – even if she didn’t find the Couronne, it would be enough to convince her colleagues that she’d been right. That would be almost – but not quite – as satisfying as pulling the jeweled headdress itself up from the bottom.

Carefully, like it was alive and might swim away if she allowed it, she transferred the nail from the net to the pouch on her belt, making sure that the draw string was secured tightly before resuming her search with renewed enthusiasm and gusto.

***

She’s onto something.

Burke watched from his vantage point about 15 feet over Kensie as the brown cloud spread out under her. He waited as long as he could stand, but when he asked what she was doing, her answer was such an obvious lie that he felt insulted and considered calling her out right then and there. His irritation, however, morphed to curiosity as she pulled her net and fished something from the sand, placed it in her bag with care, and started waving the detector around once more.

“What’d you pick up?”

The excitement in her voice was unmistakable. “A nail. It looks pretty old, like early 19th-century. One of my colleagues will go ape shit when I tell him I found this here.”

At least that lie was a little more plausible. “That’s interesting. I can’t wait to see it.”

“I’ll be glad to –” With her finger on the transmit button, her voice was drowned out in favor of the sound of the metal detector indicating it had come across more items. Kensie must not have realized that, as she continued her sentence unabated when the noise ended. “ – looks like I found some more.” She grabbed her shovel and resumed digging.

Burke thought about going down to join her, but his job was to watch her back, and he had to take that role seriously no matter how curious he was. She moved a little faster, digging a little more aggressively, every few seconds depositing another item in her dive bag before waving the detector around again. She settled into a pattern: dig, collect, move, scan with the detector. He listened as she worked; either by accident or design, she’d left her mike open. She had a habit of mumbling to herself when she was concentrating, and her current running commentary was sprinkled with excitement. “OK… right there! Careful… got it! Nope. OK, wait. What was?… oh, nothing. This looks… what the?… wait. Oh wow!” Burke felt like he was listening to a football game on the radio with the worst announcer in the world.

Kensie worked in a meandering line down the underwater slope, going deeper with every item she retrieved. He watched carefully, trusting her smarts but thinking she might follow the trail to the abyssal ocean bottom if left to her own devices. She was getting close to 60 feet when he checked his watch.

“Kensie, check your air. You’ve got to be getting a little low.”

“Already?” She checked her regulator. “Shit. OK. Do I have time to get this last thing I’m reading?”

At least she’s asking. “Yeah, you’ve got a couple of minutes, but make it quick.”

“Fast as I can, I promise.” She starting digging. “All right, let me mark my final spot.” She pressed a few controls on her GPS and started her ascent, pausing near Burke. He could tell she was trying to control her breathing, which was still forceful. He doubted it was from the exertion of digging down 24 inches in soft mud.

“Looks like you hit some kind of motherlode,” he said to pass the time.

“Yeah, I did. The things I found are pretty cool!”

“Does this play into your magnetic distortion theories?” He watched her face through her mask intently as he asked the question, and his hypothesis was confirmed by her reaction and momentary blank stare.

“My what?

“The magnetic distortion issues. The reason you told me we were diving.”

“Oh. Actually, no. This is just kind of a surprise, but a good one.” Her eyes reminded him of his little nephew’s on Christmas morning looking at all the gifts that he was about to open.

“You seem pretty enthused about it though,” he remarked.

“It’s a discovery,” she said. “Some of this stuff is 200 years old, and I’m the first person to see it since then. That’s kinda cool, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s head up.” I need to find out what you’re really doing here.