Ghost Ship (NUMA Files 12)

“Glad to hear it,” Kurt said. “And how are the ‘rest of us’ going to get out of here? We seem to be a little short on helicopters.”

“Dragon Three will max out and take the wounded,” Brooks said. “The rest of us will head for the coast. Madagascar has a pretty limited military—and we seem to be miles from anywhere important—but I don’t want to run into any well- meaning members of the neighborhood watch.”

Kurt nodded. “Are we walking?”

“No,” Brooks said. “My men have rescued a bunch of horses from the stables on the lower terrace. We’ll be riding.”

At that, Calista looked up. “I’ll ride,” she said.

Brooks shook his head. “You’re in no shape to ride, ma’am. You’ll go on the helicopter.”

She stiffened her back and pulled free from his grasp. “I said I’ll ride. Besides, you’ll need someone to show you the way.” “I think we can find the ocean on our own,” Brooks insisted.

“Trust me,” Kurt said, “there’s no point arguing with her.”

Brooks shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

A few minutes later, the group arrived at the stables. The last of the Black Hawks sat in the pasture close by.

Sienna hugged Kurt tightly. “I owe you everything,” she whispered in his ear. “My life, my family. How can I ever repay you?”

“Just go live,” Kurt said. “And tell your husband I’m sorry for slugging him in the jaw.”

She gazed at him with a look of confusion.

“Long story,” he said. “Knowing what he’s been through, I’m hoping he won’t even remember it.”

She nodded, began to cry again, and smiled through the tears. She hugged him tightly once more and then went aboard the helicopter.

As the helicopter powered up and lifted off, Kurt found his way into the stables. Calista was already on her horse, and the others were mounting up.

Kurt climbed on a sturdy-looking animal and took the reins.

“Look at me,” Joe said, “I really am the cavalry. Now I’m even riding a horse.”

Only Kurt laughed. No one else got the joke.

They rode from the stables single file, traveled down the main path and out onto the open plain with the Brèvard palace and Sebastian’s mad dreams burning to ashes on the hill behind them.

Kurt noticed that Calista never looked back. Instead, she led them to a path she’d worn into the soil over the years.

Only now did she realize why she’d always returned to that strange hill where the ship had been buried. Only now did she remember her real brothers talking about a lifeboat. And then Sebastian as a young man with Egan and Laurent, working down there to cover what her mother and brothers had excavated.

Two hours later, they came out onto the shore, where a wide beach met slow-rolling surf. There, Lt. Brooks ordered the group to a halt, made a radio call, and lit a low-light beacon.

After a short wait, a pair of high-speed collapsible boats came racing in from the dark, manned by crews of two in camouflage and face paint. They entered the shallows and coasted to a stop just the other side of the low breakers.

“Someone call for a water taxi?” one of the camouflaged men asked.

With the Marines watching the shore in both directions, Kurt helped Calista down from her horse. She was pale and cold. She rubbed the blaze on the horse’s nose and whispered something about running free. The horse took off, galloping down the shore, and Calista all but collapsed. Kurt picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her into the surf as she wrapped her hands around his neck and held on.

“I should have left from here twenty-seven years ago,” she whispered.

“Better late than never,” Kurt said.

He carried her to the nearest boat and lowered her gently into it. He climbed in after her, and Joe followed suit, as the Marines took spots in the second boat. Moments later, they were cutting through the surf and racing out to sea.

Only Calista was surprised when a great black shape rose up through the water and allowed the boats to slide up onto its back.