Page 215
Donald pulls her onto the open deck.
Simon raises the radio to his mouth.
The Coast Guard frequency crackles through the conference room.
“Calle Sinclair,” he says. “Bring me your compass.”
Ben rises slowly inside the ruined corridor.
Simon continues.
“Or Naomi dies with everyone aboard this ship.”
21
CALLE
“Acaptain who threatens the innocent has already admitted he cannot win against the strong.”
—James Sinclair
“Bring me your compass, or Naomi dies with everyone aboard this ship.”
Simon’s voice fills the conference room.
On the monitor, Naomi stands in front of Donald Cross on the deck of the Argent Star. Her hands are bound behind her back. Blood streaks one side of her face, and a strip of silver tape covers her mouth.
Donald presses the gun harder against her temple.
Ivy moves toward the screen.
“Naomi.”
She can’t hear her.
She can’t see us.
But Donald looks directly into the helicopter’s camera as though he knows exactly where we are watching.
Agent Marquez takes the radio from Commander Keating.
“This is Special Agent Elena Marquez. Release the hostage and shut down your engines.”
Simon laughs.
“I didn’t ask for you.”
“You’re surrounded by the Coast Guard. Federal agents have secured your salvage yard. Marcus Bell is in custody, and Elliot is cooperating. You have no way out.”
“You seem to believe escape is my priority.”
“What is?”
“Calle’s compass.”
My gaze shifts toward the evidence case on the table.
The compass that hung around my neck for most of my life now looks unfamiliar.
