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They never breakfast before six o'clock, he said impatiently.Now come on, no more talk.

Pitt and Jessie evaded a prowling Cuban patrol boat and were within a thousand yards of the Cuban shoreline when the battery on the Dasher died. He pulled the drain plugs, and they swam away as the little sport craft slipped under the sea and sank to the bottom. His combat boots were a tight fit and allowed little water to seep inside, so he left them on, well aware they would be essential once he stepped on shore.

The radar operator shook his head.Not unless they're blind or plain stupid. The skies are clear as crystal. Any tenderfoot Boy Scout knows where the North Star lies.

The water felt comfortably warm and the waves remained low. An early morning quarter-moon slipped over the horizon two hours ahead of the sun. With the added light Pitt could easily keep Jessie in view. She coughed as if she had taken in some water but appeared to be treading without effort.

The tide is running in our favor, so let's get moving before it turns.

They set off with the elementary backstroke, arms thrown back, legs thrusting in a whip kick. The incoming tide pushed them along at close to a knot, and they made good time. Jessie was a strong swimmer. She matched Pitt stroke for stroke, staying right alongside him. He marveled at her endurance after all she had been through the past six days and felt pity for the aches and exhaustion he knew she was suffering. But he could not allow her to slack off now, not until they reached shore and found a small measure of safety.

What about sharks?

The water felt comfortably warm and the waves remained low. An early morning quarter-moon slipped over the horizon two hours ahead of the sun. With the added light Pitt could easily keep Jessie in view. She coughed as if she had taken in some water but appeared to be treading without effort.

I didn't know Wyoming had a swimming pool.

It'll be light soon, she said.

I didn't know Wyoming had a swimming pool.

Still nothing.

The operator ignored the radar screen and stared intently at the enhanced computer display.Okay, I have a tiny object that's a possible. Nine miles southwest, bearing two-two-two degrees.

They must be lost, muttered Kleist.

Oh, God, it was you she groaned in dazed fright.

Pitt and Jessie evaded a prowling Cuban patrol boat and were within a thousand yards of the Cuban shoreline when the battery on the Dasher died. He pulled the drain plugs, and they swam away as the little sport craft slipped under the sea and sank to the bottom. His combat boots were a tight fit and allowed little water to seep inside, so he left them on, well aware they would be essential once he stepped on shore.

Funny man.

Pitt stopped and dove straight down, touching bottom at what he reckoned was ten feet. He reached out and accidentally brushed one of Jessie's legs as he surfaced. She shrieked, thinking she was being attacked by something big with a triangular fin, unseeing eyes, and a mouth that only a dentist could appreciate.

What state?

But it was business as usual for Pitt.In for a penny, in for a pound / It's love that makes the world go round. Only he wasn't in love-- attracted, yes, but not swept away. Curiosity overrode any passionate urge. He could never resist sticking his foot through a door to the unknown. And then there was the lure of the La Dorada treasure. LeBaron's clue was meager, but the statue had to be somewhere in Cuba. The only snag was that he could easily get killed.

Quiet he rasped.You'll alert every guard patrol for miles.

Go to ten.

The tide is running in our favor, so let's get moving before it turns.

It'll be light soon, she said.

The tide is running in our favor, so let's get moving before it turns.

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