“Run it again,” Chana told him.
“What’s to see?”
“Maybe that fiddler crab escaped,” Talbot snickered.
“Just do it,” Chana stated.
With a shrug Lee rewound the tape, pushed the button and the scene came alive again. When it got to the end Lee asked quizzically, “So?”
“Once more,” Chana stated.
Lee went through the procedure again. This time Chana held up her hand right after the detonation and just as the picture cleared she said, “Stop.”
Lee hit the pause button.
The mine lay there like something long dead, ugly hunks of metal in a blown-out sand hole. “What do you see?” Chana asked.
After a few seconds Talbot said, “Beats me.”
“You, Lee?”
He shook his head.
“Don’t look at the mine.”
Again they started, but saw nothing at all. Chana picked up a pencil and pointed to a dot in the background at the crest of a sand hill. Lee and Talbot looked at each other, perplexed.
“Tap it up a half second further, Lee.”
He hit the start and off buttons quickly and they looked back at the screen. There was another dot beside the first one.
“Do it once more,” Chana told Lee.
A half second later the two dots were still there, but farther to the right this time. Another time increment and the dots were almost off the screen.
“We had visitors,” Chana said.
“Could have been animals,” Lee added. “Or birds.”
“Let’s keep it as a worst-scenario viewpoint,” Chana said quietly. “They were people.”
“Supposedly, this island is deserted,” Talbot said. “If anyone came here, it would be by boat. In that case, they would have had to land on the far side to keep us from seeing them.” He looked at his watch and frowned. “It would be an hour by the time we sailed around there, so they could be long gone.”
“Why don’t we check while we still have some light?” Chana suggested.
They all agreed, even though they weren’t hopeful about results. As Talbot had said, it was an hour before they made their way around the island and by then the tide was almost full again. They beached the dinghy and looked for signs of other boats having landed, but there were none. The incoming water had totally blocked out any traces of evidence, so they motored back to the Tellig, put the dinghy in the chocks on deck and headed back to their base.
Overhead the stars were beginning to show and there was a dull, ominous rumble of thunder in the west. All around them, the sea was empty of boats. Lee Colbert said wryly, “I wonder if that thing has had its supper tonight.”
Talbot grunted and glanced at the scope on the side scanner. “Well, if modern electronics can pick it up, we’ll see it before it takes a bite out of us.”
“What if one of those mines is floating on the surface directly ahead of us?” Lee said.
“That would make someone I know real happy,” Chana told him.
Hooker had outguessed the crew of the Tellig. It was only by accident that he had picked up the flash of light from the lens of the TV camera and realized that the detonation was being photographed. He knew that they were in a partially exposed position and started to scurry out of sight after the blast; and taking no chances, he boarded the Clamdip, ran for the other end of Scara Island and was out of sight when the Tellig dropped anchor.
The pair was sitting on the side of the inflatable, watching the night close in around them, Billy’s eyes darting toward Hooker every so often. Finally, the big man stood up, stretched, grinned at his buddy and said, “Billy, me boy, don’t get all bent out of shape. We’ll spend the night here on the beach.”
“Oh, mon, I do thank you, sar!”
“Come on, I couldn’t stand your moaning and groaning all the way home. How come you act like some superstitious old lady?”
Billy grinned good-naturedly, now that he knew they could be safe on the sand that night. “That’s why that lady got so old, sar.”
“Okay. Now, tell me something. How long do you think those mines were on Scara?”
“Not long.”
“How many days?”
“Sar, I do not know that, but two months ago I was here and there was nothing on the shore.”
Hooker stretched his legs out and dug holes in the sand with his heels. Seven mines left. The tide brought them in, all bearing signs of deepwater submergence for a long time, most likely since the wartime years of the forties. There were no known minefields in this area that anyone remembered, but here they were, and, most likely, all from the same source.
“Billy... your people tell stories about the old days?”
“That they do, Mr. Hooker, sar.”
“Any that tell about mines like these around here before?”
For a few minutes, Billy let himself get lost in thought. “A very long time ago, yes. Two fishing boats from Ara caught one in a net. One boat wanted to tow it in. The other said it was a bad thing and wouldn’t touch it. They watched while that first boat went very close and saw it touch, then there was a great explosion and the boat was no more.”
“How old were you then, Billy?”
“Maybe eight, maybe ten.” He paused, made a grimace and added, “There was a sinking. Many life jackets floated by. Tins of food.”
“Whose ship was it?”
“I remember... American flag on the jackets. Small, up here on the collar part.”
“Any attempt at recovery?”
“No divers, no cranes. The water is deep there.” He looked at Hooker, a frown crease between his eyes. “What is it you are thinking, sar?”
“If those mines broke loose from a U.S. vessel, the publicity can be pretty bad and right now that wouldn’t be good at all.”
“That one they blew up, sar, it hardly even made a hole in the sand.”
Hooker nodded, toying with an idea. “If a real one, a big fat live one, blew under some important foreign ship, who would know the difference? What a beautiful terrorist operation and all the heat would go right on the U.S. of A.”
“Who would do a thing like that, sar?”
“Nobody you would know, pal, but it’s something to think about.”
“I think about all the work on Corin Island, Mr. Hooker, sar. Many of our people will make more money there than by fishing.”
Hooker shook his head in amazement. “How long have you known about that project, Billy?”
“Six months, maybe, when the lumber ship put in for water. They asked how many men would move there.”
“And...?”
“None of the old men would leave. The young men, they want the money, see new things. They like the new ways.” Billy saw Hooker’s expression and smiled sadly. “Our people, they don’t talk much.”
“You mean to outsiders like me.”
“Yes.”
“Why not?”
“If I say, you will not get mad?”
“No, I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Because to outsiders we are not really people. We only live here. Our language is like for children. Do you know we have words for everything you have?”
A laugh started deep in Hooker’s throat. “Billy, you amaze me. Your insight and intuition are absolutely phenomenal. Can I tell you something now?”
“But certainly, sar.”
“You will not get mad?”
“Never.”
“Okay, buddy.” He let the grin get bigger and said, “You think the same way about us, don’t you?”
“How did you know, sar?”
“Hell, it just figures. Good thing we like each other, though, isn’t it?”
“A very good thing, that, sar.”
“Quit calling me ‘sar.’ My front name is Mako.”
“I do not wish to make Mr. Shark mad, sar.”