Chapter 19
The next morning, Amy pulled her borrowed jacket tighter, watching the Stone and Cross men move with military precision despite the early hour.
The Stone Cutter bobbed gently in the slip beside them.
Amy nudged him. “Could we all pray together?”
Nash looked surprised.
“I just keep thinking we need God’s help right now.”
Nash called everyone together. “Let’s say a prayer before we do this.”
Everyone nodded their assent.
Nash turned to Trey. “It’s your place, you pick.”
Trey grinned at him. “Of course I pick Hunter.”
There were some laughs.
Hunter seemed unsurprised. He bowed his head.
Everyone else bowed their heads.
“Dear Lord, we are so thankful this day for our lives, for our friends, for this chance to uncover what we believe needs to be uncovered. But, nonetheless, we ask for Your will in all things. Please protect and guide us. In Jesus name, Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said in unison.
The two families separated onto the two boats.
“Trent’s going to help you with the sonar,” Trey said as Nash helped Amy aboard. “The controls can be tricky, and he knows this equipment better than anyone.”
Amy nodded gratefully.
Trent gave them a teasing grin. “I’ve been reading the manual all night.”
She laughed. “That’s good.”
Trent winked at her. “I’ll walk you through the setup.”
Nash squeezed her shoulder. “You’re in good hands. Trent’s the tech expert. But one thing—” He paused and pointed to the radio. “If you need something, don’t forget to give us an SOS.”
Trent scoffed. “Dude, I’ll be with her.”
Nash shrugged. “It’s just … something that popped into my mind during the prayer; she should know how to do an SOS.”
Trent nodded. “Good call.” He turned to her, then pointed to Nash. “This one is a keeper.”
She laughed. “Yes, he is.”
Trent tapped the radio. “Let me show you how to do an SOS.”
Everyone finished prepping both boats.
She tried to pay attention to what Trent was saying.
"Did you guys know we can actually trace where an SOS comes from now?” Trent asked.
“Really?” Nash asked.
Trent nodded. “Yep, an SOS is trackable.”
“That’s cool,” Nash commented.
“Radio check.” Marshall’s voice crackled through the comm system from Trent’s boat. “Stone Cutter, do you copy?”
“Stone Cutter here,” Trey responded. “Reading you loud and clear, Liberty.”
She laughed. “That’s the name of your boat?”
Trent grinned. “Of course, I had to name it after Liberty.”
As the boats pulled away from the marina, Amy watched Bird Island move closer to them. She’d studied the nautical charts until she could draw them from memory, but seeing the island in person sent a thrill of anticipation through her.
The crossing took roughly thirty minutes. By the time they reached the island’s protected cove, the sun was fully up. Amy helped Nash and the others unload diving gear while Trey maneuvered the Stone Cutter into position over the underwater cave system.
“Alright, let’s get this sonar system running,” Trent said, settling beside Amy at the control station. His fingers moved expertly across the dials and switches. “See this frequency setting? We’ll start here, then adjust based on what we’re seeing.”
The screens came alive with ghostly images of the seafloor, revealing the complex network of passages that honeycombed the island’s foundation.
Amy watched in fascination as Trent fine-tuned the display.
“That’s incredible,” she breathed, watching the three-dimensional map build itself in real-time.
“These caves go much deeper than your original surveys showed.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Trent agreed, pointing to a section of the display. “Look at this formation here—it’s much more extensive than we mapped before.”
Nash leaned over Amy’s shoulder to study the display, and Amy’s pulse quickened at his proximity. Even focused on treasure hunting, she was hyperaware of his every movement.
“There,” Trent said, indicating where the caves seemed to widen into a larger chamber. “That looks like it could be significant.”
“Coordinates?” Marshall asked through the radio.
Amy read off the numbers with Trent’s guidance, watching as Trent’s boat moved into position.
The divers suited up with practiced efficiency—Nash, Trey, Marshall, and Hunter would make the first descent while the others maintained watch from the boats and island.
Porter and Colt had positioned themselves at strategic lookout points on Bird Island’s rocky cliffs, while Blaze monitored the marine radio from the Liberty. Chance, in his sheriff’s capacity, coordinated with Brooks on surveillance patterns.
Cheyenne stayed with the Stone family wives on the protected side of the island, ready to help with communications if needed.
“Stay in constant radio contact,” Brooks instructed from his position at the island’s high point, flanked by Porter and Colt, who scanned the horizon with military precision. “Any sign of trouble, you surface immediately.”
Nash approached Amy before putting on his mask. “Keep monitoring that sonar. If you see anything unusual—anything at all—you radio us immediately.”
“I will.” Amy reached out to adjust his diving mask, the gesture more intimate than she’d intended. “Be careful down there. Are you sure you should do this?”
Nash waggled his eyebrows. “Diving is an obsessive hobby of mine.”
“Okay. I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “And now we get to spend the rest of our lives learning about each other.”
Amy was surprised by his admission.
He seemed to realize what he’d done. “I mean …” He blushed. “If you want. I mean—”
She cut him off by kissing him, her heart racing. “Shh. Yes, we will.”
He beamed at her. “Phew. I know we haven’t talked about that.”
Trent cleared his throat. “Time to go.”
“Sorry,” Nash said, letting out a light laugh.
She laughed, too. “Be careful.”
His eyes held hers for a long moment. “Always am.”
The divers disappeared beneath the surface, leaving Amy and Trent alone with the sonar equipment and her racing thoughts.
She focused on the screens while Trent monitored the communication systems, tracking the four blinking dots that represented the diving team as they descended toward the cave system.
Everything went smoothly for the first twenty minutes. The divers moved methodically through the passages Amy and Trent had identified, their voices crackling through the underwater comm system as they described what they found.
Then the sonar picked up something else.
Amy frowned at the display, adjusting the sensitivity while Trent checked the equipment calibration.
There—another set of signals approaching from the east. Fast-moving. Multiple vessels.
“Trent, look at this,” Amy said, her heart beginning to hammer.
He leaned over her shoulder, studying the screen. “That’s not good. Those boats are moving way too fast to be casual traffic.”
Amy reached for the radio while Trent tried the backup communications. “Brooks, this is Amy. I’m seeing three boats approaching from the northeast, moving fast.”
From the island, Porter’s voice crackled through on a different frequency. “Stone Cutter, we see them too. Fast-moving vessels, definitely not recreational.”
Static answered them both.
“Brooks, do you copy?” Trent tried his radio while Amy attempted the backup frequency. “Porter, Colt, anyone?”
Nothing but dead air from any of the systems.
“The whole comm system is down,” Trent said grimly, running diagnostics on the equipment. “This isn’t equipment failure—someone’s jamming us.”
Amy grabbed the marine radio, trying to reach Blaze on the Liberty. “Blaze, Chance, can anyone hear us?”
More static.
Both the island communications and underwater systems were completely dead.
Amy’s hands shook as she grabbed the binoculars, scanning the horizon until she spotted them—three sleek speedboats cutting through the water toward Bird Island. Even at this distance, she could see they weren’t pleasure craft. These boats meant business.
The Ferrantes. They’d found them.
“We need to get to the dive site,” Trent said, already moving toward the boat’s controls. “If we can’t radio them, maybe we can signal them directly.”
“What about the others on the island?” Amy asked desperately. “Porter and Colt can see those boats by now.”
“They’ll handle the perimeter,” Trent replied, his fingers flying over the radio controls, attempting different frequencies. “But they can’t warn the divers underwater. That’s on us.”
Amy tried the underwater comm one more time. “Nash, Trey, you need to surface now. We have company.”
Still nothing.
With no way to warn Nash and the diving team through normal channels, they had to try something else.
The diving team was still forty feet underwater, completely unaware of the approaching danger.
Porter, Colt, and Brooks on the island could see the boats now, but they’d be focused on defending their position—not communicating with submerged divers.
“Hold on,” Trent said, firing up the Stone Cutter’s engines and spinning the wheel. “We’re going to get as close to that cave entrance as possible.”
The boat responded beautifully under Trent’s experienced handling, cutting through the swells as they pushed toward the dive site.
Watching Trent navigate these waters was like seeing an artist at work—salt spray stung their faces, and the ocean challenged them at every turn, but the Stone Cutter responded to his touch like a well-trained horse.
In the distance, Amy could make out movement on Bird Island’s cliffs—small figures that had to be Porter and Colt repositioning themselves for whatever was coming. The knowledge that Nash’s brothers were there, ready to fight if necessary, gave her a small measure of comfort.
Suddenly, three boats materialized from behind the island’s rocky outcropping, cutting directly across their path.
“Hang on!” Trent shouted, yanking the wheel hard to port, trying to evade them. But it was too late. The other boat was faster, more maneuverable, surrounding the Stone Cutter.
“Cut the engine!” one of them shouted. He had one hand on the wheel, while others pointed guns at them.
Amy and Trent exchanged a quick glance. Trent’s jaw was set in determination, but Amy could see the calculation in his eyes.
Before either of them could decide on their next move, a man leaped from the boat onto the Stone Cutter’s deck. “Amy Roberts!” he called over the engine noise.
Another man jumped on board, too.
Amy and Trent backed away from the controls, but there was nowhere to go on the relatively small boat.
“What do you want?” Amy demanded, trying to keep her voice steady while Trent positioned himself slightly in front of her.
“Same thing we’ve always wanted: information and cooperation. Now, thanks to your little treasure-hunting expedition, we know exactly where to find what we’re looking for.”
“Both of you, come quietly,” he said. “No one needs to get hurt today.”
“Our friends will come looking for us,” Trent said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. “All of them.”
“I’m counting on it,” the cold-eyed man replied. “That’s rather the point.” He reached for Amy.
Trent started to pull a gun.
Someone from a boat shot him in the shoulder.
Trent got a shot off, but it hit nothing.
Another shot hit Trent in the other shoulder.
“No!” Amy yelled.
The man cocked a gun and pointed it at Trent. “Come with me, Amy or I finish him off.”
Trent tried to stand but the other guy kicked him in the face.
Trent slunk down.
Amy tried to run at the guy and hit him, but he was solid.
He turned and folded her into his arms.
The other man grunted at Trent. “I guess we leave him.”
“Let go of me!” Amy yelled.
But the man was too strong and he was already taking her with him off of the boat and hopping onto the other one. “Sorry, sweetheart, you’re ours now.”