“What was that?” she yelled toward his ear. Knowing what she faced had always made her feel better.
“Some kind of game fish.” He handed her an earbud and mic. “Here. This will help us communicate better.”
“Okay,” she said, fitting the piece to her ear.
His idea of game fish was probably anything he might be able to eat. To her, game fish covered a whole lot of species out here in the dark. What if the fish were the hunters, and they were the game?
She swallowed to clear the tightening of her throat. “Well, all I know is that was one damn big…whatever.”
He laughed then throttled up again. “Hold on. We need to make up some time.”
Make up time? What did that mean? After rummaging in a tiny compartment on the dash, he’d fitted an earbud back on. Every so often, she’d almost think he was talking to someone. That didn’t make sense. They were in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. Headed…she had no idea.
At least leaning and tilting had become second nature to her now, but holding on was still her priority. She stood enough to lean close to his ear then tapped his shoulder, and he glanced backward. “Won’t we run out of gas at some point?”
“Like I said, there are a lot of upgrades to these babies. With the fuel they use, they can run forever.”
“Is that why this Q40 balances so well?” She’d seen others ride watercraft, and they’d had more difficulty in side-to-side stability.
“That, and the fact I know how to handle one of these machines.”
Now that was something she could agree with. In fact, he seemed to handle a lot of things well. She should do a magazine article on him and the Q40 when this was all over. “So, is this the beginning of an around-the-world trip?”
“Nope. But it’s time for us to move on.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been circling larger and larger, trying to pick up a sign from Keith. Or OPAQUE. Nothing yet. Means things are too hot to chance contact. So, at this point, we’re running solo.” His tone suggested that was the end of the conversation.
She had more questions. One in particular. “Is that…uh…overly dangerous?”
“Depends on what you call dangerous.” The way he maneuvered the Q40, he must know exactly where he was and where he planned to go. He jerked his head for her to lean against his back. “You should get some rest. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Doing what he said seemed like a good idea at the moment. But she wasn’t ready to chance falling asleep and falling off. Besides, she was a journalist. She asked questions. So, for now, she approached this as research for a story and kept talking.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“Straight across the Gulf of Mexico. At a little spot on the GPS, I’ll veer toward the Florida Panhandle. Then we cruise and wait for contact from OPAQUE.” He stretched his neck from side to side then did quick arm pumps after rolling his fingers in and out. He stretched his legs and stood up. The Q40 ran straight and true.
“You sound like this is just another day at the office. Do you do things like this all the time?”
He sighed loud enough she figured he wanted to stop the chitchat. Too bad.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
“Yeah, I heard you. This is my job. I like what I do. Love the water. And yesterday, I finished up a month-long assignment in South America. Today, Drake sent me to Ft. Myers to pick you up. Never even made it home.” He made a noise deep in his throat, a sound of almost laughter. “The future is history just waiting to be made.”
She laughed at his joke.
On the right, she saw a glimmer of lights in the far, far distance. Maybe he’d change his mind and stop. After all, he was right—she was tired. She’d even consider sharing a room with him as long as there was a warm bath, food, and a soft bed. Make that two beds.
Instead, he steered them away from shore. Back out into the dark. Darker than dark darkness. He didn’t even have running lights on.
She jerked her head upright after bumping his back with her nodding forehead. “So, tell me—”
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? Might help with the case,” Mitch said.
Well, that had certainly been a smooth way of saying “I’m done talking.” But she was okay with the transition. He felt like someone she could tell anything personal to, and it would never be revealed again.
