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He didn’t expect the explosion either.

Marquez pulls me away from the edge as another blast shakes the vessel.

A section of the lower hull tears open.

Simon didn’t detonate the diving chamber.

Someone aboard the Argent Star did.

A dark shape surfaces near the damaged stern.

Then another.

Three men break through the burning water.

Mark.

John.

Piers.

Scott surfaces farther away, dragging one of the ship’s crew members with him.

Four.

There should be five.

I search the water.

“Where’s Ben?”

No one answers.

Scott shouts toward the Coast Guard boat.

He points beneath the ship.

“Ben’s still inside!”

The torn hull continues sinking.

The current pulls the Argent Star toward the rocks.

And somewhere inside it, Ben is alone.

22

CALLE

“Aman is never alone beneath the waves when someone above them is waiting for him to come home.”

—James Sinclair

“Ben’s still inside!”

Scott’s warning carries across the burning water.

The Argent Star lists toward the rocks. Flames spread behind its stern, following fuel across the surface of the bay.