Treasure of Love (11 page)

They necked like high-school sweethearts for a little while longer until Dax finally admitted, “We have an early morning. What do you say we turn in?”

Jack raised one eyebrow and looked at Dax, questioning.

“To separate cabins, you idiot,” Dax said.

Jack smiled and held out his elbow. “Please allow me, sir.”

Dax slipped his arm into Jack’s and said, “Chivalry is not dead after all.”

“Not while I’m still breathing,” Jack said as he escorted Dax to his cabin.

They were so into their little game that neither of them felt the stare of distant night vision binoculars, or heard the almost-silent click of a camera documenting their every move.

W
HEN
they got to Dax’s cabin door, Dax slid his arm out of Jack’s and they stood, nervously wondering what should happen next. In the past, Dax had never been shy about going after what he wanted, but this time he didn’t want to make the first move. Being several inches taller than Jack, he looked down and saw the most beautiful crystal-blue eyes gazing up adoringly and locked on his. Dax could almost see a battle raging behind them. Both lust and confusion clouded Jack’s baby blues, and it tugged at Dax’s heartstrings. If Dax pushed, he felt certain that he could convince Jack to spend the night with him, but at what cost? If it didn’t go well, it could affect the rest of their lives—for different reasons, of course. So he did nothing. It was at that very moment that Dax realized he was falling in love with Captain Jackson P. Cameron, and that particular thought sent shivers of fear mixed with excitement down his spine.

A
S
J
ACK
looked up into the dreamiest hazel eyes he’d ever seen, he realized just how much he wanted Dax. But something, or someone, held him back. He knew that once he stepped into Dax’s cabin, there was no turning back. Could he do this? He wasn’t sure. Yes, he wanted Dax—hell, he even needed him—but was it lust, or was it more? He couldn’t use Dax as an experiment. He had to be sure.
Not yet
, he thought.
Not until I’m sure.

Instead of opening the cabin door, he rose up on his toes and placed his lips against Dax’s. The waiting lips were warm and supple and opened for him without delay. Jack’s tongue teased at the taut flesh of Dax’s warm, sweet mouth. His hands moved to grab Dax’s dark head, feeling the silky hair slide between his fingers as his tongue slid between his lips. The heat was building, and Jack knew if he didn’t stop soon, he wouldn’t, so he withdrew and once again gazed into Dax’s sultry eyes. He moved his mouth to Dax’s ear and whispered, “Good night, Dax.”

Dax responded in kind, then slowly opened the door and retreated to his cabin. When he closed the cabin door, Jack placed his palms against the door, as if trying not to break the connection, but it was too late. He fought the urge to slam his palms against the door until Dax opened it and allowed him to enter, but instead he lowered his head in frustration. He took a deep breath and then stepped away from the door and retreated to his empty cabin.

Dax sensed that Jack was still standing outside his door and imagined his palms coming up and resting against it. He slowly placed his hands where he imagined the other man’s to be and held them there until he heard Jack’s footsteps fade into the salon.

Chapter 7

D
AYBREAK
came very early, and everyone started the day with anticipation of what was to come. Brad and Mac were up first and had breakfast going when, one by one, the rest of the crew joined them in the galley. Throughout the idle chatter of their normal breakfast conversation, they went over last-minute details about their day. Immediately after breakfast, Brad and Mac left the galley to prepare the dive equipment while the others stayed behind to clean and discuss the underwater conditions and strategy for the dive.

“Once under the surface,” Dax explained, “we’ll start our dive at what we hope is a propeller shaft and go from there. According to Jack’s reading yesterday, the deepest part of the dive would be no more than thirty-five feet, and as you know, that eliminates or greatly reduces the risk of decompression sickness, nitrogen narcosis, or oxygen toxicity.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Normally,” Dax continued, “the shallow depth would allow us to remain under the surface for a much longer period of time, but because the water temperature is hovering between thirty-nine and forty-one degrees we will be very susceptible to hypothermia and will need to closely monitor our body temperature gauges and limit our dive to about forty-five minutes.”

“I know your first objective is to identify the wreck, but if you do that, what are the other objectives for this dive?” Jack asked.

“You’re right, Jack,” Dax said. “The first dive will be to determine if this is indeed the
Anna Wyoming
. If we’re successful in that task, then we’ll try to determine what condition the hull is in. In turn, that will dictate how we proceed.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” Jack said, “but how so?”

“Well,” Dax shared, “if the hull is breached, once we have our salvage rights, we’ll start by laying down a baseline grid and then do multiple dives to document the site with video, still digital cameras, and basic sketch-mapping techniques before we start the excavation. If the hull is intact, we know that everything on board is contained within its walls, and in that case, we’ll use low-impact underwater explosives to open the ship’s hull for entry and salvage.”

“Got it,” Jack said.

“Now, once inside the hull,” Dax explained, “we go directly in search of the cargo hold. According to the documentation we found, the valuable mystery cargo was being kept in the cargo hold in the center hull of the ship.”

“Is that typical?” Jack asked.

“Not really,” Dona said. “But if the amount of gold rumored to be on board is accurate, the purser’s safe would not be able to contain such a large sum, so the cargo hold would be the next logical spot.”

Dax took over again. “However, also according to our records, the purser’s safe is holding some valuable contents, and we certainly won’t leave it if we can help it.”

“Months of research,” Dona added, “has given Dax a very detailed layout of the ship, and we know approximately where the cargo hold should be and therefore where we should start the search.”

“Any other questions?” Dax asked.

“Nope,” Jack said. “I’m good.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Dona exclaimed.

W
ITH
a game plan and lots of excitement, they headed topside to suit up. When they reached the deck, their equipment was ready and waiting for them. Like good divers always do, they checked and rechecked Brad and Mac’s work, making sure their buoyancy vests—better known as BC’s—and regulators were attached properly and everything was in perfect working condition. The special dry suits designed to help keep them warm were difficult to get into and required a great deal of effort and time, so an hour quickly passed before they were ready for their descent. They made their way to the swim platform and put on their fins. Brad handed each one their full face masks, which included digital ultrasonic transceivers allowing them to communicate with the boat and each other under the surface with excellent voice clarity. Brad and Mac each carried a handheld radio receiver so they could communicate with the underwater team at all times. The three divers stood on the swim platform and, one by one, jumped into the cold Alaskan waters. When each had given the diver’s universal “okay” sign by touching the top of their heads, they deflated their BC’s and started their descent.

Dax had made hundreds of dives in his career, but each time he dropped below the surface of the water he was amazed by the sensation he felt and the things he saw. Today was no different; the aqua-colored water was clear as a bell and visibility was at least twenty to thirty feet. It appeared that the area surrounding the wreck was partially protected by a reef complex that provided a limited shield from the strong currents, but also provided an array of colorful fish and other sea life that made the reef their home. They swam along for the next twenty-five minutes in the shallow depths of fifteen to thirty feet, depending on the stage of the tide, and after swimming the length of the area several times, Dax finally said, “Well, guys, I feel certain we have a wreck here.”

“I agree,” Dona said. “But is it the
Anna Wyoming
?”

“Too soon to tell,” Dax responded. “I don’t see any visible evidence yet, but some of the characteristics of the site point in that direction.”

“Like what?” Jack asked.

“For starters, the bow and stern are pretty badly beaten up, and based on the weather conditions on the night she went down, she would have taken a major beating along the reef system, so that supports our theory. In addition, what we assumed was a propeller shaft from the surface is indeed just that, and is about the length and size of the shaft that would have been on the steeple compound engine aboard the
Anna Wyoming
.”

Dona gestured to another section of the site and added. “We know that the
Anna Wyoming
had a double-bottom iron hull, and there appears to be parts of that hull exposed over there. And those mounds to the left appear to be pieces of machinery attached to the base of one of the remaining steel masts. And lastly, her bow is pointing toward the north, and pieces of her iron plates are sticking out of that offending rock that juts nearly to the surface.”

Dax took over again. “All these findings, combined with the fact that, when you look down from above, you can get a clear outline of the ship’s orientation—and her length appears to be approximately the same length of the
Anna Wyoming
—gives us a pretty good idea that we are right on track. Whatever this ship’s history, it’s pretty obvious that she went down in very similar conditions and circumstances as the
Anna Wyoming
. And lastly, I can’t see any signs that the interior hull is breached.”

“Is that good or bad?” Jack asked.

“Sometimes it works in our favor, and sometimes it works against us,” Dax said. “It’s just too soon to tell.”

“Wow, I’m really impressed,” was all Jack could say. “You guys know your stuff.”

“Thanks,” they responded simultaneously.

“Now can we get out of this freezing water?” Dax asked.

“I’m with you,” Jack answered.

“Lightweights,” Dona mumbled as she rolled her eyes and started to swim in the direction of the boat. Dax and Jack exchanged a quick smile, then followed closely behind her as they began their ascent.

When they reached the surface, Brad and Mac were on deck and quickly made their way down to the swim platform. Mac helped each of them climb on to the boat as Brad helped them off with their gear. The boys had been listening in on the underwater conversation and didn’t try to hide their anticipation. Dax and Dona gave them the
Reader’s Digest
version again and told them they would fill them in with more details over lunch.

T
HEY
feasted on turkey club sandwiches and chips while they excitedly discussed the morning’s findings. They would make their second dive later that afternoon, but in the meantime, Dax wanted to review his notes and study the photos of the
Anna Wyoming
one more time, in hopes of finding some sort of markings that would help them identify the wreck and give them the proof they needed to stake their claim. If he couldn’t find any visible markings, he would have no choice but to use underwater explosives to remove some of the one hundred years of growth surrounding the wreck in order to breach the hull.

After lunch, Dax and Dona spread all their research and photos on the galley table and started going over everything very closely. Jack, in full captain’s mode, knew that in their current position, the weather could change drastically from hour to hour, so he headed to the fly bridge to check the latest weather reports, with Brad and Mac in tow. When they reached the bridge, Jack flipped his VHF radio to the weather frequency and sat in his captain’s seat. Brad hopped into the seat next to him with his legs spread, and Mac scooted in between Brad’s legs, facing forward and leaning his butt on the front of the seat. They listened in silence while the radio squawked its continuously looped prerecorded updates. When the radio reached the end of the loop and started over, Jack reached over and switched the radio back to channel sixteen. Brad finally broke the silence. “Sooooo, Jack, anything you want to talk to us about?”

“Nope, not that I can think of,” Jack said in a teasing tone. “Other than the weather, and it looks pretty good for the afternoon dive, but I guess you heard that for yourself.”

“Oh yeah, the weather, perfect, beautiful, got it. What about your little rendezvous last night?” Brad asked.

“Are you birds spying on me now?” Jack asked.

“Not really,” Mac said. “We went up on deck for sunset last night and were quite amused to see Dax in your arms and your tongue down his throat.”