Sea of Fire

Chapter Seventeen

The tranquillity of the cove was just what Peter Kannaday needed. Like any long-time sailor, his emotional state was strongly affected by the sea.

The sun was going down as the Hosannah entered the mouth of the cove. The effect was like a candle on the sea. There was a long, rippling, waxy-yellow streak on the water. It ended in a burning yellow wick on the horizon. Kannaday watched it from the stern as they entered the cove. Directly above him the blue-green skies were already spotted with early stars.

To all other sides of him was Darling Cove. The inlet was located in the northern reaches of the Great Barrier Reef. Over 2,000 kilometers in length and up to 125 meters thick, the reef is separated from the mainland by a shallow lagoon. The massive structure was born at the end of the Ice Age when oceanic polyps began to thrive in the region. The polyps created protective multicolored shells that survived when the animals themselves perished. Coral built upon coral for over 10,000 years, providing a home for each new generation of tentacled creature. It also became a haven for countless species of fish, giant turtles, humpback whales, manta rays, dolphins, and dugongs — marine cousins to the elephant.

The helmsman steered the yacht into the calm, wide-mouthed inlet. Kannaday looked down at the stained-glass blue water. Then he walked forward as sweet, warm air washed over the deck. It carried the hint of grapes from the Darling vineyard located to the southwest. Immediately to the northwest was a limestone formation scooped from a hundred-meter-high cliff by ancient storms. The rock glowed rust orange in the twilight.

The high reef concealed the cove from the open sea. To access the inlet a sailor had to know to come around the reef well to the north. The mouth itself was less than a half kilometer across. It was just about 200 meters to the far shore. There was a long stone wharf ahead and deep stretches of tawny white sand on all sides. Two motorboats, a motor yacht, and a pair of sailboats were at anchor. Security cameras were concealed in the 200-foot-tall karri trees that ringed the cove. Kannaday knew that microphones were hidden in the trees as well. They rarely heard more than the wind, the soft breakers, or the cry of a lost dolphin. For boaters who happened by, there were signs at the entrance to the cove. The oak boards, floating on moored buoys and mounted to posts, announced that this was the private property of Darling Enterprises. There were no posted warnings, no threats. Anyone who knew of Mr. Darling knew to keep out. Those who did not were arrested within two minutes of entering the cove. Guards lived in a small cabin just beyond the beach. Most of the time they surfed the Internet or played tiddledywinks. Darling held twice-yearly competitions among the staff with a sizable purse.

It did not escape Kannaday that the object of that game was to gather all the different chips in one cup. A cup that was controlled by Jervis Darling.

Kannaday took another moment to watch the sun set. This was the ninth or tenth time he had sailed into this cove. The quiet, majestic beauty of this place thrilled Kannaday for a moment. It always did. But this time it also made him angry. He felt as though he should own the seas he had just traveled. Kannaday had a yacht, and he was on the way to having enough wealth to keep him comfortable for the rest of his life. Instead, all he could think about was the displeasure of Jervis Darling. A man whose name alone on a placard was enough to frighten would-be trespassers. Kannaday resented the man's power and feared his disapproval. The captain also hated his own resentment and fear.

The yacht would be anchoring in a few moments. Kannaday would take a motorized dinghy. He would be met there by a Humvee. There was no need to radio ahead. The guards would have seen him. As the yacht slowed, Kannaday wondered if Jervis Darling feared anything. The billionaire probably feared failure. Also death, most likely. And almost certainly in that order. A man like Darling would only accept defeat at the hands of God himself.

If only I could have God as an ally, Kannaday thought bitterly. Instead, he had John Hawke.

The security officer was belowdecks with his men. They were probably watching action movies on DVD. That was all they ever did. There was no curiosity about the world, no desire for self-improvement. Perhaps that was why Kannaday had assumed Hawke would take his offer and go. It was easy.

Men like Hawke liked things easy.

Kannaday walked to the port-side winch that held the dinghy. He waited as one of the crewmen lowered it to clear water. The hum of the motor echoed through the cove. Kannaday's stomach began to burn.

Even though John Hawke had physically threatened the captain, Kannaday did not fear him. Fear did not come from known threats. It did not come from fear for one's physical well-being. For a man of the sea, the adrenaline kick that came with danger carried the captain through moments like those. Even when he had the knife at his throat he was not fearful. He had been focused on surviving, which was not the same thing.

Fear came from one thing above all. It came from the unknown. It grew from the anticipation of something debilitating. A loss of freedom. The inability to realize one's vision.

Darling represented that kind of power. Kannaday was not looking forward to this meeting. He considered calling Hawke's bluff. Would that little man have the courage to seize the yacht? And would Darling accept Hawke as commander if he did?

Sun-bronzed first mate Craig McEldowney ambled over. The big, thirty-nine-year-old New Zealander stopped beside Kannaday. The two had been together for two years. They had met in a bar in Surabaya, Java, where McEldowney was washing glasses. The former dock-worker had just served five years' hard labor for stealing shipments of tobacco and selling it at a discount to the locals.

"It's going to be all right," McEldowney said. "The chief isn't going to blame you for what happened."

"Who will he blame?" Kannaday asked.

"Nobody," McEldowney replied. "Captain, these things happen. Just like they did to me."

Kannaday grinned. McEldowney was a decent but dullwitted man. That was why he had been caught.

Kannaday left his first mate in charge and swung down the aluminum ladder into the blue-gray dinghy. The rungs were damp with sea spray. He had to hold on tight to keep from slipping. He reached the sturdy little boat and sat on the aft bench. He released the winch cable, switched the engine on, and sped toward the wharf. The guards were already driving down the sloping, wooded path. The crunch of wood chips and the growl of the Humvee engine added to the noise.

This is how chaos is built, Kannaday thought. One noise at a time.

The question before Kannaday was simple. What was the best way to prevent his own situation from becoming more chaotic? Unfortunately, only one man had the answer.

And that answer was unknown.