Severed Threads (25 page)

Rachel swallowed hard. “Tell me, Blaine, what do you know about our legal rights here? Chase assured me that his papers were in order, but if the Chinese government gets wind of what we’re up to, can they shut us down and confiscate everything we’ve recovered?”

Blaine closed his book and smiled. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. According to Chinese historians, the
Wanli II
doesn’t exist. Even though she was modeled after the original ship, there are virtually no records of where she was built or her true country of origin. I guess you could say she’s kind of a ghost ship, which makes the manifest records the captain acquired from Professor Ying a real mystery. In any event, they have a signed personal agreement between them. You know…to make sure we get a nice finder’s fee for all the porcelain and relics we bring up. Even checked it out myself to make sure. I’m just grateful we’re not tied to a self-serving thief like Harper, is all.”

“
Right,” she said, offering a weak smile.

Blaine rose to his feet. “Think I’ll grab something to eat. You want anything?”

“
Maybe later.” She watched him disappear into the pantry before slipping out of the booth. On her way to the afterdeck, she spotted Mika spread out on a lounge chair, singing to an eighty’s version of
Louie Louie
playing on her iPod.

“
Loowee loowhy ono sadday we gowgow, yeh yeh yeh yeh yeh,” On seeing Rachel, she smiled and pulled out her earplugs. “Hey, didn’t see you there.”

In Rachel’s opinion, being raised in an Evangelistic household had left the girl emanating too much joy to be real. “Damn it, girl, how can you stand this heat?” she complained.

“
It’s mild compared to Tokyo summers. With ninety percent humidity, you sweat all the time. Some people even take showers twice a day.”

“
Sounds awful. So is that why you moved here…to California, I mean?”

“
My eight-year-old brother became ill two years ago and one of the best hospitals with a teaching facility is in San Palo. After I graduated from UCLA, my father accepted his church position with my brother’s full-time care in mind.”

Rachel regretted her invasive questions. Mika’s life was her own affair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“
It’s all right. We can’t control everything in our lives. My father believes God has a plan for all of us. Sometimes we’re blessed and don’t even know it. A good example is the fact that I wouldn’t have this job if I hadn’t met Mr. Cohen at the hospital. And I wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t involved with Mr. Cohen.”

“
That’s nice and all," she said, “but Chase and I aren’t exactly involved.”

“
Really?” Mika’s eyebrow twisted a fraction. “Then how do you explain the way he looks at you…especially when you’re not watching?”

“
Oh, that’s nothing,” Rachel claimed. “Just history.”

Mika ‘s eyes twinkled. “Looks like a current affair to me.” She slid out of her chair and replaced her earplugs, amplifying her music. Then she smiled and danced away humming.

Rachel caught herself smiling too – something she hadn’t done in a while. As soon as Mika was out of sight, she took up her post at the cleaning station. She opened her goodie bag and pulled out the eight-inch black calcified artifact she’d found the day before. It felt strangely warm in her hands, a phenomenon she attributed to its cupreous alloy or metallic core. She flipped it over, thoroughly examining it. Although heavily coated with marine crustaceans, from all angles it appeared to be some kind of creature – a serpent or maybe an elongated dragon.

Was it possible that this was the dragon they’d been searching for?

Her research book on spectroscopic techniques suggested quasi-monochromatic x-ray for analyzing the patina on ancient metal relics and recommended careful, supervised examination to preserve its archeological significance.
So much for integrity.
She picked up a sharp metal tool and set to work scraping and chipping away. After twenty minutes, she used the compressor to blow away the gritty residue. Then she reexamined her find.

“
Interesting.” It appeared she had unearthed an upright cobra with its hood fully exposed. The blue coloration hinted at bronze, however, it would take another twenty-four hours to know for sure. She filled the glass tank with water, ethanol and a solution of BTA before laying the strange object inside. Although the water's greenish tint would confirm her suspicions, it would ultimately crush her hopes.

In the meantime, she cleared her workspace and picked up the first plate Chase had recovered. Running a bath was the quickest way to remove the soluble salts that had been absorbed in the porcelain, but she didn't have the vats necessary to keep the water moving. She carried the mesh bag, along with its contents, into the closest head. With no one in sight, she opened the customized grey water reservoir and deposited the bag inside. Since it was essential to put nothing toxic down the drain – no bleaches, bath salts, artificial dyes and cleaners – this was the best undrinkable water source on board and came with its own electronic flushing system.
Particle dust, huh?
With every toilet flush, hand washing and shower, the crew would unknowingly assist in cleaning the captain’s prized china. She couldn’t help but smile.

Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of running footsteps overhead brought her back outside. Chase was leaning over the rail, scanning the surface for bubbles.
Three minutes passed...five…then eight. His face suddenly reddened.

"
What is it?
"
she finally asked.

He zipped up, wide-eyed, and cried, "Something's gone wrong!"

* * *

At ten meters, Chase saw Ian emerge through the bubble screen, rapidly ascending – full BC vest and eyes large as saucers.

He grabbed Ian and signaled, "Okay?"

Ian was physically shaking. He didn't respond to the question but seemed to be breathing fine. Chase released him, allowing his continued assent. Then his thoughts shifted to his absent partner.

Hawkins!
Chase’s mind screamed. He continued his dark decent through the murky water, scanning in all directions. With each dead end, his pulse quickened. His mind raced. He anticipated the worst-case scenario – facing another death like the one that almost destroyed him.

Wade broke through a cloud, nearly colliding with Chase. He seemed confused, perhaps disoriented, but fully intact. He signaled he was fine, then vigorously motioned below.

After Rachel's dubious warning, Chase could only guess what the two men believed they'd seen. He continued on, looking in nooks and crannies. Keeping an eye peeled for elusive eels and returning sharks. But the only thing he spotted at the end of their anchor line was a set of dive tables. He returned to the surface and found Ian coughing and gasping. Fortunately, he was none the worse for wear.

"So, what happened?" Chase asked. "You run into Casper, the angry ghost?"

It was then that Ian found his voice. "Wasn't me fault," he claimed. "I only tried to kill it."

"Kill what? Casper?”

Ian laughed and choked at the same time.

"We were down in the hull when a great white came charging from out of nowhere," Wade explained. "Ian pulled me through a crack he found in the ship’s side just in time. When we cleared the cave, he signaled to hurry up so I added a shot of air with my power inflator. Somehow it got stuck. The only thing I could think of was to grab hold of him."

"From behind," Ian added. "Shocked the bejesus outta me."

Wade chuckled. "Anyway, we were both bumping around in the dark. At about seventy feet, he reached down and pulled out his knife and stabbed me a half dozen times in the chest."

"Oh, my God!" Rachel yelped.

"Hey…was tryin’ to dump air,” Ian said indignantly. “How’d I know he was wearing fuckin’ armor?"

Unbelievable.
Chase shook his head. "Why didn't you just disconnect the hose?"

Ian sulked. "Ah sure. Easy for you to say."

Chase turned back to Wade. "I’m afraid to ask, but why did you signal down?"

“I was pointing at the ledge Ian stuffed me under to keep me from shooting up.”

Their story was getting wilder by the minute. “So how’d you get loose?”

“He shoved me free."

Ian arched his neck in their direction. "And jest how did I manage that when I was headin’ up to get help, ya nitwit?"

“But I…I felt your hands.” The slice between his brows suddenly deepened.

Ian shook his head. “Weren’t mine.”

Rachel pressed closer. “Then whose were they?”

Chase surveyed the perplexed expressions surrounding him. Although he wanted to squelch the ghostly notions that had been circulating all morning, Wade’s close call had the earmarks of the far-fetched tale he’d overheard recently at the Crow’s Nest Bar. It seemed that a craggy fisherman from up north had ventured into the area two months earlier and had witnessed unexplained visions in the fog one night. The next evening he heard voices calling out warnings. He wrote both experiences off to lack of sleep and too much ale. However, hours later a wild storm struck and someone pulled him to safety aboard a rubber dingy just before his ship went down. Pure coincidence in some minds, but the disturbing part of the man’s tale truly came at its end. It seemed that before he had a chance to thank him, the fisherman’s guardian angel vanished into thin air.

Chase blew out an exasperated sigh. He needed to put this silly episode to rest fast. “Wade, let it go. You panicked is all.”

“Yeah, you probably wiggled free and didn't even realize it,” A.J. added.

The warrior’s face gradually lightened. “I suppose you’re right.”

Off to his left, Rachel scorned their logic. “Oh, really? And what about the hands he felt?”

From the determined look on her face, she wasn’t about to let the matter die. She dropped down on one knee and rested her hand on Wade’s forearm.

“I think there might be another explanation,” she said. “Did you see a flash of light, a sudden movement just beyond your line of vision?”

Damn it!
Chase was losing control again. Any minute now, Rachel would have Wade believing spooks were taking over their claim. His whole crew could be rendered useless – lost in the woman’s delirium. “Back to work,” he growled.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” resounded around him. But Wade didn’t answer. He didn’t move from his hunkered down position next to Rachel. The two of them wagged their heads from side to side, blatantly ignoring his order.

Chase had reached the end of his rope. “Enough of this. Grab a fresh tank,” he demanded. He smacked Wade’s shoulder harder than he actually intended.

The warrior’s gaze shot up. His hateful snarl matched his cool reply. “I’ll put my time in on board from now on.”

It was a directive. Not a request. The beginning of the end, in Chase’s mind.

“The hell you will! If you can’t handle the job you were hired to do, you better start packing now!”

Wade remained silent, brooding – as if contemplating his dead-end future. “Sorry, captain. Got a little carried away. I’ll get right on that.” The enormous man slunk away, a few inches shorter.

With his command restored once again, Chase drew a cleansing breath. He glanced at Rachel as she pushed herself upright and noticed disapproval pinching her eyes. “You got a problem
too
?” he tossed at her. “I can have the launch ready in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be ready in five.”

She spun on her heel just as Ian immerged from the galley, a bottle of liquor locked in his fist. He dropped a meaty arm over her shoulder and, despite her protests, steered her toward the inside cabin.