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Visibility was perfect, and I was treated to an incredible view of Chui’s yacht and the dozens of sharks that had made the yacht their multi-million-dollar home.
As I lowered down, my air hose trailed behind me. If Tyler did his job right, it wouldn’t snag or pinch during our dive, and my air would continue to flow.
The yacht had crashed into the sand in an upright position, which would make our salvage slightly easier. Dad and I needed to find anchor points to attach our airbags, and with the yacht positioned the way it was, I could already see several options. I’d lost count of the number of boats we’d salvaged over the years, but we’d never done one this big, or this expensive.
Our salvage cage had landed twenty feet away from the yacht, and two sharks were circling it like they were trying to figure out how to get inside. We swam to the cage and removed the equipment we’d lowered down along with crates we would use to transport items from the wreck to the cage. I’d been given the order to salvage the yacht. Nobody had dictated what I had to do with whatever we found onboard. Dad’s eyes had twinkled at the prospect of looting the luxury vessel.
Dad tapped my arm and pointed at the rear of the wreck. Carrying a folded plastic crate under my arm, I followed Dad toward the stern. A baby tiger shark swam toward me, and I shoved the inquisitive bugger aside with my gloved hand when it came too close. I wasn’t worried about getting bitten, but I certainly didn’t need a shark sinking its teeth into my air hose.
The yacht had a jacuzzi on the top level, and I chuckled at the three crabs that looked right at home in the square pool. Dad and I reached the stern, and we both gripped onto the aluminum side railing that stretched the full length of the deck. The railing itself wouldn’t work as an anchor point for our airbags, but the poles they were attached to may be an option.
We pushed off the railing, and I followed Dad over the side of the yacht to the next level which had fancy custom-designed seating that matched the curve of the rear deck. Just like the seating on Kane’s yacht, before I’d set the seating on fire with the flare.
I still couldn’t believe that had happened. Even more shocking was Kane dropping the charges. He was not a man to forgive and forget. The cops must have offered him something significant to make him do that. Or maybe he didn’t want to waste time with the cops when he could be diving down to Siren’s Lure. Was that it? Had he searched for that ancient wreck? And had he found a fortune in wine?
My knee hit a broken piece of railing that stuck out from the back of the boat like a fishing rod.
Focus, Indiana. You can chase after Kane when this bullshit is over.
Dad continued to dive lower, searching for the anchor chain. In an ideal situation, I would spend a couple of days removing as much weight from the wreck before I attempted to raise it. But I was under instruction to salvage the yacht ASAP, and that suited me fine, too. The sooner I did this, the sooner I could get Kingsley out of my hair.
He was an intriguing man, and nice to look at. But he was still a cop, and I didn’t trust those bastards.
Dad lowered his knees to the sand, and as I kneeled beside him, I turned in time to shove a three-foot tiger shark away. The tail on the damn thing side-swiped my air hose, pulling me backward until I slumped on my side on the sand. My gloved fingers dug into the soft grains, releasing a small debris cloud. I fanned it away, and in the small divot I’d created was a glass rod. When I pulled the glass rod free, it turned out to be the stem of a wine glass that had miraculously survived the shipwreck.
The glass had a gold rim, and a tiny scorpion embossed on the side. Maybe this little memento would fetch a tidy sum, considering the legacy that asshole Chui had left behind. I flipped open the sides of my portable crate, put the glass inside, and turned my attention back to the wreck.
Dad kneeled before a massive hole in the side of the yacht. It was like nothing I had ever seen on a wreck before. Most of the ships I’d pulled up had sunken during a storm. Up here in North Queensland, we had our share of cyclones that kept me busy. This wreck, however, had suffered a catastrophic explosion from the inside, and I recalled hearing that one of Aria’s team, Viper, had used C4 to attempt to break Chui out of his hiding place.
That detonation was what had made this giant hole. No wonder the ship had sunk so quickly.
The massive hole was good news for us. Now we didn’t need to contend with water being trapped inside the yacht as we lifted it to the surface.
Dad gave me the thumbs up and pushed off the sand. Carrying the crate in front of me, I swam beside him along the middle deck, heading toward the bow. I shone my light into the windows as I went, looking into a luxury world that I had never experienced, nor would I want to.
I didn’t need fancy shit to be happy. I needed freedom.
Maybe some extra cash would be helpful, though.
At the bow, Dad swam to the anchor which was sticking out the side of the hull like an overgrown oyster shell. He had the job of using the underwater Oxy-Arc torch to cut the anchor free. We didn’t need that dead weight making our job harder.
As Dad triggered the flare on the end of his torch, I checked the time on my watch. Our dive time had just passed ten minutes, which was good.
Our conditions were excellent. Negligible current to contend with. Excellent visibility. The wreck was on a massive bed of sand, meaning we didn’t have to worry about getting our air hoses tangled in coral or massive rocks.
At the bow, I followed a golden eel as it swam in through an entrance door on the bottom deck. Dark mahogany wood lined the entrance, and algae had already begun sprouting on the surface. The first room I reached was some kind of wanky viewing area with a massive glass wall that displayed the marine life outside, and a pile of fancy leather chairs with cup holders and mechanical footrests.
I would give anything to have one of those in the hut on Rhino. The leather sofa we sat on every night was as old as Dad. Maybe older.
I gave one of the chairs a push, but as I expected, they were fixed in place. Besides, after all this time under water, the mechanics would be ruined anyway.
Holding the crate in front of me, I swam to the next room, which was a large open area with more seating. Unlike the viewing chairs, a couple of these fancy leather chairs had toppled. I scanned my flashlight around the room and found two televisions, a record player, and sound equipment that would all be worthless. The records, though, might be worth something.
My flashlight lit up a massive bar. The entire back wall was covered in shelving, and miraculously, several bottles were still in place.
Dad will wet his pants when he sees this.
He could take whatever he wanted. He deserved to be happy for a while.
