Pirate (Fargo Adventures 8)

“Sam—”

“I’m going to send this boat right through that trip wire.”

“The pressure wave . . .”

If the bomb was in the water with them, the pressure wave would kill them. In this case, he was hoping the bomb was planted out of the water and behind the boulder to hide it from view, since the fishing line disappeared there. That way, any explosion was going up, back, and out the sides. A gamble, since there was always the possibility that there were more explosives hidden.

Only one way to find out—not that he was about to voice his concerns to Remi. If they were going to die, better to go fast and not know it. “You think you can hold your breath until we get to that fallen tree?”

She looked over and nodded.

Sam jammed the handle of the boat hook through the wheel to keep it on course.

“Get ready to jump.”

Fourteen

Sam glanced at the approaching boats, saw the flash of more gunfire. He hoped they wouldn’t notice two dark forms dropping from the side. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They sat on the edge, turned, and pushed off. The boat sped on.

Sam dove down into the cold depths, sensing Remi beside him as they swam. A few seconds later, the water lit up as the explosion rocked the air above them, sending a shock wave through the cove. Flaming debris rained down on the water. Sam and Remi kicked harder, Sam hoping the hull of the boat wasn’t going to follow. He had no idea how far they’d swam, only hoped they’d arrive at the safety of the tree. After several more hard kicks, Sam reached out, feeling his hand brush up against the trunk.

He turned in the water, grabbed Remi’s hand, and pulled her beneath the trunk to the other side. They broke the surface, both sucking in air as they treaded water behind the trunk. Just beyond, they heard the crackle and roar of a giant fire, the air glowing above it. The sound of boat engines grew closer.

He used one of the branches to lift himself slightly so that he could peer over the trunk.

Their little fishing boat had overturned and what was left of it was burning in a blinding fire fueled by the spilled gasoline. The two craft carrying the gunmen neared, one moving in close to the vessel. One of the gunmen aimed his weapon toward the cove and fired. Dozens of rounds peppered the burning boat and the water around it.

Finally, the man stopped, looked around, then signaled to the driver. The vessel veered toward them, and Sam quietly dropped into the water, watching as both boats sped off toward the north.

Neither he nor Remi made a move until the engines had faded in the distance. When Sam felt it was safe, he and Remi swam beneath the tree trunk to the other side.

The blast of the explosion had blown their rental boat to the middle of the cove. Beyond it, not much was left of the boulder that had shielded the explosives. It was split down the middle, one half broken into several pieces from the force of the blast, the other half sitting in a deep hole on the shore.

Sam’s gaze returned to the boat. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Remi hadn’t seen the trip wire and they’d gotten out to see what those men had been digging for.

Even Remi couldn’t tear her gaze from the sight.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“We can swim over to Oak Island. There’s got to be a phone at the visitor center. At the very least, we can walk to the mainland from the causeway.”

They had covered about half the distance, nearly a thousand feet, when Sam heard the rumble of a large sea vessel coming from the south.

He glanced in that direction, worried Avery’s men were returning. But as the boat sped into view, its emergency lights flashing atop and spotlights sweeping the water before it, he realized help had arrived.

They both shouted, waving their hands, relieved when the spotlight swung their direction, blinding them momentarily as their rescuers steered toward them.

They were pulled aboard the Royal Canadian Mounted Police vessel, where Sam related what had happened to the captain, who said, “You’re telling me you survived an underwater explosion?”

“No. I am saying we went underwater to survive an aboveground explosion. That boulder,” he said, pointing at it, “or, rather, what’s left of it—directed most of the force away from the water.”

“Darn lucky,” the captain said.