Page 202 of Hidden Depths
Ben stared.
"This isn't navigation,"
Nathan whispered...
"It's timing."
Storm slowly looked toward the black Pacific outside the bridge windows.
Grandpa had never stopped writing his journal.
He'd been leaving a trail.
One only the right person would recognize.
Far behind them...
The lights aboard Mariner's Crown glowed softly against the darkness.
Someone else was hunting the same trail.
They simply didn't know...
James Sinclair had written it twenty years earlier.
36
STORM
Grandpa used to tell me...
"Never follow another captain's wake."
"Find your own course."
No one slept.
Not really.
Not aboard Sea Whisper.
The yacht slipped quietly across the moonlit Pacific.
Inside the bridge...
Coffee replaced sleep.
Questions replaced conversation.
Hope replaced fear.
Ben stood over the chart table.
He spread Ivy's photographs beside the journal.
"The compass."
"The code."
