Still waiting in her stateroom, she wanted to shout for joy. Yet all she could manage was a long exhale. Steadying her hand against the doorframe, she realized her chest seemed unwilling to release the tension of fear that had bitten into her for the past few minutes. But for all Mitch’s words about her worthless ass, he’d been there to protect her. He’d stood in front of her, ready to face whatever came down the stairs. She’d never forget that. Never.
He motioned her to join them in the cabin, so she slipped out of her stateroom. Breathing in the fresh brewed coffee aroma, she headed straight for a cup. From the looks of Drake and Reese, they could have really been two guys out for a day of fishing.
As for her, she needed caffeine. Caffeine and answers. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the small table.
Technology seemed to have run rampant on the far wall of the boat’s cabin as Reese stood in front of an embedded screen. He increased the radius of the search on the radar. Farther and farther. “That had to be one high-speed drone. There’s no sign of it on radar anymore.”
Mitch picked up a tech-band from the counter then glanced at Drake and nodded. “Maybe they got what they wanted. Ditched the bird in the water.”
From her limited experience, something seemed to be missing. “What about the sound? The hive-of-buzzing-bees sound drones make?”
“What do you mean?” Drake asked.
“I know we weren’t up on deck, but I think we’d have heard the buzzing.”
Drake shook his head. “The hum was low. Really low. Means they put a lot of money into that baby.”
“Maybe they saw Mitch and me in the stateroom.” The men were better informed than her, but still she wanted to toss out all the simple things they might have overlooked. “I mean, if they’re using all this advanced technology, wouldn’t they have used infrared imaging? Or thermal?”
The corner of Mitch’s mouth quirked as he tightened the tech-band on his forearm. “Good questions. Bottom line, this boat was built with up-to-date specs. That includes cutting-edge test material. The kind that blocks imaging.”
“Scrambles sound, too. Wouldn’t want any eavesdropping on our conversations.” Reese input more codes on the keyboard linked to the tracking screen.
She rapidly realized her knowledge was like first grade, and these guys were like they’d graduated with a doctorate in drones and evasive maneuvers.
Watching the way Mitch never took his eyes off the tracking screen, she wasn’t surprised when he and Reese began an intense, rapid-fire, whispered conversation. Mitch pointed to the edge of the screen. Reese keyed in more codes. The images altered. Mitch tapped a button at the side, and what had been one screen changed to a split screen.
The one on the left stayed as the radar tracking screen, the screen on the right showed a satellite view. With a couple more taps, the colors changed. Again, the two men began pointing and pegging images. The more they talked, the less she understood. Evidently, they were speaking OPAQUE jargon.
Mitch raised one eyebrow. “Call for backup, Drake. The drone may be gone, but they’ve got us targeted.”
“Looks like there’s a large yacht trolling the waters.”
“Vacationers?”
“Don’t think so.”
Mitch almost growled with his heavy sigh. “From what I’m getting off the satellite feed, that doesn’t look like a family on vacation.”
“Keith was the elite team expert on the sonar/radar gig, but best I can tell”—Reese pointed at the screen—”that looks like four PWCs zipping away from that boat.”
Liz couldn’t sit still any longer. She stood. She knew she was in the way. She couldn’t help that. She was afraid. Afraid that…
Never taking his eyes from the satellite feed, Mitch reached out and pulled her close to his side. “They’ve got a smaller boat being lowered into the Gulf. Looks fast. Damn fast.”
Drake slammed his fist on the table. “How long till they get here?”
Chapter Twelve
How long till Coercion Ten arrived?
The tracking screen in the boat’s main cabin calculated in knots and minutes. Mitch calculated in specifics. Answer— Never, if he had anything to do with it.
He might not have all the specifics on this case, but he’d already figured out this was no ordinary Coercion Ten versus OPAQUE. So far, only Drake held all the answers.
Answers Mitch planned to have soon. Real soon. “Reese, get this boat moving, stat. Buzz our Navy contact for rescue. Tell them we’ll be running south till further notice.”
“Got it.”
