Justice (10 page)

Darkness was in their favor, though there were no streetlights so he couldn’t turn off their lights entirely. He discovered a set of fog lights and used those instead. Fortune continued to smile on them, as he actually turned on three paved cross streets in succession over the course of about five miles. Rolling to a stop about fifty feet down a dirt road lined with trees, he felt that they were as safe as they could be under the circumstances.

Bones popped out of the back onto his feet and let out a whoop. “Man,
that
is what I call an adrenaline rush! We have got
to try that again sometime. But I get to drive.”

After multiple nights of no sleep combined with the recent adrenaline-laced escape, Maddock didn’t have the energy to laugh.

“Okay Bones. Next time we propel a cart out the back of a moving vehicle, you drive.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” He turned to gaze down the darkened street. “I guess that’s that. What do we do now?”

Maddock grinned. “The Sons might have the journal, but they don’t have all of it.”

Sterling frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I took a page out of Billy Lee’s playbook. Pun intended.” He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

Sterling folded her arms. “You didn’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t take it personally. We’ve learned not to trust people.”

The look in her eyes said that Sterling didn’t find the answer satisfactory, but she kept her silence.

“I actually translated the last page before I worked on anything else, and it contains a clue I think is worth following.”

“What’s that?” Bones asked.

“We’re going to find the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
.”

Edmonia Jennings Wright
picked up the phone with some hesitation. She hated having to keep someone else informed. Her alliance with the individual on the other end of the line could never be a relationship of equals. Still, she was fully prepared to go it alone if the balance of power skewed any further in the wrong direction.

The phone rang and was answered on the other end.

“Hello, Edmonia.”

Even the familiarity of the greeting served to highlight the power of the speaker. Wright had spent decades honing the ability to push aside irritation and even dissipate it the instant it appeared. No trace of frustration adorned her voice.

“I have a status update. We recovered the journal. It’s in code, but that won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent. How long do you anticipate it will take to translate it?”

“Not long. The cipher is a common one used during the colonial period. I expect it will be complete in a few days at the most.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “The two SEALs have escaped with the park policewoman.”

The man on the other end paused.
“I thought you said you put your best man on it.”

“I did. He failed.”

“Perhaps he needs replacing.”

“Perhaps.”

Another pause.
“Do I need to get more involved?”

“That is of course up to you. This sort of endeavor never proceeds without setbacks. We have the journal, which is what matters most.”

“You don’t think
your
escapees will cause more problems?”

The emphasis on
your
grated at her nerves.

“Let them try. There’s no way they had time to translate the entire journal, assuming they managed to break the code at all. If they want to continue the chase, they’ll have to take it back from us, and that isn’t going to happen.”

“I have to go. Inform me the minute you have more information that gets us closer to the prize.”

It was a typical ending to these conversations. Wright decided then and there only to make another call when discovery was imminent. Perhaps not even then.

Jamison’s loss of Maddock and Bonebrake was disappointing, but she wouldn’t be too hard on him. Men like Jamison were hard to come by, and disposing of everyone who made mistakes only sounded good in the movies and at Congressional hearings. The fact was that they had the journal, putting them one step closer to their goal.

Soon, her search would be at an end.

A single beam
of golden light sliced through the dusty air in Hunter Maddock’s private library and shone on the antique map spread out on the desk. Elizabeth never missed a chance to comment on this room’s need for a thorough cleaning, but Hunter liked it this way. It reminded him of the old library he’d frequented as a child, devouring books like Treasure Island and Journey to the Center of the Earth. Besides, it was nice to allow himself one aspect of his life that wasn’t shipshape and Bristol fashion.

His eyes drifted from the map to the framed photograph on his desk. He took out a handkerchief and brushed the dust from the glass. Three faces smiled back at him. Hunter, with fewer gray hairs; Elizabeth, looking as beautiful as the day they’d met; and Dane in his Full Dress uniform. As always, Hunter’s chest swelled with pride at the thought of his son.

The phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. As always, he picked up on the first ring.

“Hunter Maddock.”

“Dad? How’s it going?”

“Dane. I thought you were off mountain climbing with that…interesting friend of yours.” Hunter still wasn’t sure what to make of the big, roguish Cherokee whom his son had befriended. He had to admit, the man had a certain charm, and Dane vouched for him, so that was something.

“We were diverted.”

Hunter thought he detected a note of hesitation in his son’s voice.

“Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” Dane said too quickly. “I wanted to ask you about your pirate research.”

A chill ran down Hunter’s spine, and for one irrational moment he wondered if Dane knew about… No, it was impossible.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes. I’m just surprised that you’ve finally taken an interest in treasure hunting.”

Dane laughed. “Sort of. It’s hard to explain.” He cleared his throat. “I know Captain Kidd is your thing, but do you know much about Blackbeard?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Not much, though I’d be happy to hear all about it next time I’m home for a visit. What I’m specifically wondering is, do you have any idea where
Queen Anne’s Revenge
went down?”

Now it was Hunter’s turn to laugh. “You have caught the bug. Don’t deny it. But the answer to your question is, yes, I have a very good idea where she lies.”‘

“Really?”

Hunter smiled at the excitement in his son’s voice.

“A private corporation believes it has pinpointed the wreck. I have it on good authority that the spot lies just off the shore of Fort Macon Park in Atlantic Beach, North Carolina. I can’t be more specific than that, but word is, they’ve got people out there right now doing sonar scans and taking underwater photographs. They’re trying to get enough documentation to justify permits and get funding.”

“So, I find the researchers and I find the wreck. Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

Hunter bade his son goodbye and hung up the phone. Once again he stared at the framed photograph. With a sigh, he took out his wallet, reached into a tiny compartment, and took out a photograph of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl.

“I ought to tell him,” he whispered. “And I would if I were half the man he is.”

Maddock allowed himself
to relax completely as he dropped to the bottom of the ocean. The descent took only a few seconds, and he found both feet planted in a bed of rocks and sand. Switching on his headlamp, he spotted Bones a few feet away. They’d easily found the location. As his father had warned him, researchers buzzed around the area, but had left before sunset and hadn’t returned.

The wreck of Blackbeard’s flagship lay in less than thirty feet of water within sight of Atlantic Beach on the North Carolina coast. The alleged wreck, Maddock reminded himself. It wasn’t likely to be certified as authentic for some time. But Maddock kept himself up to date about interesting shipwrecks, and everything he had seen told him that the ship was indeed the legendary
Queen Anne’s Revenge
.

This would be one of the easiest dives he had ever undertaken. No need for decompression stops. No need for communication with the surface. The current near the surface was several knots, but down at the bottom he could stand without having to steady himself at all.

The main concern here was secrecy, which is why he hadn’t switched on his light until now. They were exploring after midnight in a prescribed location. He didn’t figure the archaeological team would be diving the wreck tonight, but the need to stay silent and dark remained. A SEAL specialty.

Sterling had no diving experience and remained on board the rowboat they had used to traverse the mile from the shore. A little exertion with the oars was a small price to pay for avoiding the tell-tale sounds of a motor. After dropping anchor, they had slipped over the side.

Bones motioned with his flashlight along a trench in the seabed. Maddock knew that a number of these trenches dotted the area, designed to assist in locating items which scattered when the ship struck bottom. Without some structure to the digging, over time the sea would defeat all attempts at methodical searches.

Their target was the ship itself. He didn’t know what they would find, but he and Bones had one big advantage over the archaeologists: They didn’t have to follow any defined safety rules when exploring the wreck. Neither man wanted to damage the site, nor did they want to meet a quick end from a falling timber. But they could swim through the wreck without any kind of detailed plan of action.

As they reached the hull, they glided over what had to be one of the cannons entombed in silt. The ship had settled in a generally upright position, though of course it leaned to one side. Maddock felt a sort of reverence as he settled just above a square opening in the deck and peered into darkness. He felt something similar any time he dived on an old wreck, imagining that doing something like this for a living after leaving the military would have great appeal.

The beam of Bones’ light cut through the gloom, and Bones moved slowly into the opening head first. Maddock gave it about ten seconds after the big man’s feet disappeared before following into another world.

Everything was covered with various forms of aquatic growth, but he could still see what was intact and what wasn’t. Moving slowly, he made his way deeper into the ship through a couple of different openings. At one point he stopped and backtracked a few feet. He had almost missed a tiny container tucked under a collapsed beam. He opened it, discovering several coins inside. How could you beat diving on a pirate ship and finding a treasure chest? He shook off a twinge of guilt as he slipped the coins into his dive bag.

Some time later he spotted Bones’ light. Closing the gap, both of them swum up through another opening to leave the interior of the wreck. Maddock looked at his watch and was only partially surprised to find that over thirty minutes had passed. He jerked his thumb upwards and Bones nodded.

He left his flashlight on during the short trip to the surface, but kept it pointing downward.  A brief flick across the surface confirmed the location of the rowboat, and he switched it off for good. A few freestyle strokes saw him climbing smoothly over the side.

“Where’s Bonebrake?”

“What’s the matter, did you miss me?” Bones raised himself into the boat a moment later.

“No, but I’m going to miss the peace and quiet. Did you guys find anything?”

Bones shook his head, spraying brine in her face. “Just a few coins.”

“So it was all for nothing, right? This was our final clue.”

“I don’t know,” Maddock said. “There was no treasure, but I didn’t get the feeling that the wreck had been plundered.”

“Me neither,” Bones said. “It’s doesn’t have that vibe.”

“Vibe?” Sterling asked.

Bones winked. “Trust us. Besides, no one’s ever been certain of the location of this wreck, and as far as I know, no treasure associated with Blackbeard has ever shown up.”

Maddock looked at Bones, but even with a sliver of moon visible, he couldn’t see enough to make eye contact in the darkness. “That gives me an idea. You and I both know someone who might be able to find out more about these coins.”

“We do? Oh yeah, Jimmy Letson. We keep calling him every time we need research and we’ll owe him so much Wild Turkey we’ll need to buy stock in the company.”

Sterling still didn’t sound pleased. “Who the hell is Jimmy Letson?”

“He started SEAL training with me and Bones. Great guy, a genius with computers, but couldn’t hack the physical side. He’s now a reporter in DC. He was traveling when we first hit the area, but I’m pretty sure he got back yesterday. We’ll show him the coins and see if he has any ideas.”

Sterling just grunted in reply, which Maddock took as a sign that the discussion had ended. He settled himself into the center, set the oars in the locks, and started rowing.

He allowed himself to disappear into the repetitive motion, thinking about the coins. Letson would come up with something. He always did.