Chapter 32

32

The morning sun glinted off the water as Paige and Cody set out in the borrowed powerboat, the coordinates from her father their only guide. At first, it appeared they were headed straight for the endless blue horizon, but soon a series of low-lying islets appeared, like humps of sand topped with mangroves and palm trees. They could have been plucked straight from the pages of a children's adventure book.

Paige breathed a sigh of relief, the fresh morning air a welcome change from the stuffy confines of the motel room. While cute and tidy, the small space had left her feeling claustrophobic all night. Or maybe it was just the awareness of Cody sleeping in the next bed, their fake couple-on-vacation act seeping into her subconscious. She was more than ready to shed that persona and dive back into her element—cybersecurity and mission planning.

Finally, they were doing something, moving forward with their mission. The coordinates from her father burned in her mind, a puzzle waiting to be solved. She settled into the passenger seat, pulling out her tablet to review their route one last time.

Cody eased off the throttle, his eyes flicking between the depth chart and the maze of tiny islands. "Vacation spots, mostly," he suggested, gesturing to the occasional shacks and makeshift homes that dotted the landscape. "There'd be no fresh water out here to speak of, for one thing."

Just as he spoke, they rounded the corner of another flat islet. A single-story cabin nestled into some overgrown shrubbery well back from the sand. A bearded man about her father's age waved at them from a faded beach chair, his tidy little beach house a stark contrast to some of the more ramshackle dwellings they'd passed. A gleaming speedboat was moored at his well-kept dock.

"Should we worry about him?" Cody asked as they glided past. "He looks like retired military."

The man simply looked like a retired guy living the life to her. "What makes you think that?"

He shot her a disparaging look. "You mean besides the handgun sitting next to the fishing rod at his feet?"

Heat rose to Paige's cheeks. She'd been so caught up in her own thoughts, wondering if her father's coordinates were leading them on a wild goose chase, that she'd missed such a crucial detail. She needed to up her situational awareness. Big time.

Cody steered them around the corner of yet another tiny isle, disturbing a flock of seagulls resting on a sandy point. "No worries. This is a lot. And I'm used to looking for enemies around every corner. Or on every deserted island, as the case may be."

She grabbed the gunwale, steadying herself against both the boat's movement and her own self-recrimination. Nice of him to try to make her feel better, but it didn't change the fact that she needed to be on her toes. They all did.

The salt spray stung her face as she scanned the horizon, determined not to miss another detail. Her father's locket felt heavy against her chest, a constant reminder of the stakes.

They wound their way deeper into the natural channel between the islets, finally arriving at the coordinates. A broken-down dock jutted out from the shore, leading to a sagging cabin perched on the high point a hundred yards away.

She shuddered, imagining what creatures might be lurking inside.

"Bats, most likely," Cody offered, as if reading her mind.

"Lovely. You take point."

That made him laugh. "No can do. You're the senior officer here. It's my duty to watch your six."

She gulped hard. Was he ... flirting ... with her? She squared her shoulders. "Then as your commanding officer, I order you to go first."

"Fine." He faked a sigh. "But if I get eaten by a sand monster, I'm haunting you for eternity."

With Cody taking point, they trudged up the warm, white sand to the shack. The old, two-room beach cabin hadn't seen a lick of paint in years, its weathered boards a testament to countless seasons of sun and salt. Sand had piled against the doors, as if nature was trying to reclaim the structure.

As they stepped inside, Paige was struck by the musty smell. But underneath the dust and age, there was a homey quality to the place that tugged at her heart. She could picture her father relaxing here.

The interior of the cabin was a time capsule, frozen in the moment her dad had last closed the door. Sunlight filtered through grimy windows, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air.

The main room was small but efficiently arranged. A worn leather armchair faced the window, its surface cracked and faded from years of exposure to the salty air. A simple wooden table stood nearby, its surface dusted with a fine layer of sand that had crept in through the weathered floorboards. In one corner, a small kitchenette boasted a rusted propane stove and a few chipped enamel mugs hanging from hooks.

She traced a finger over the rough-hewn walls, feeling the texture of the wood beneath years of sun-bleached paint. A sagging bookshelf grabbed her attention. Well-read novels and technical manuals, mostly. But it was a small, leatherbound album tucked between two books that made her breath catch. With trembling hands, she pulled it out, brushing off a layer of grit.

Inside, she found newspaper clippings and printouts—her high school graduation announcement, a brief mention of her college achievements, even a grainy photo from an industry conference where she'd presented. Her father had been following her life from afar, collecting these fragments like precious gems.

How much time they'd wasted.

A lump formed in her throat as she noticed a hand-drawn sketch tucked into the back of the album. It was her, laughing, her head thrown back in a moment of pure joy. The skill and detail in the drawing spoke volumes about how often her father must have studied it, how he'd held onto this image of her.

Cody's voice broke through her reverie. "You might want to see this."

He stood by a small desk, its surface cluttered with maps and handwritten notes. Pinned to the wall above it was a corkboard covered in a web of red string connecting various photos and documents. A testament to her father's obsession, his tireless work even in this remote hideaway. Some of the images she recognized as Consortium operations, assassinations, extortion schemes, and other covert missions designed to sway … or outright topple … foreign governments.

The reality of their task suddenly hit her full force. They were looking for a drive no bigger than six by six inches, hidden somewhere in this cabin or possibly the surrounding area. If it was here at all. The enormity of the search threatened to overwhelm her.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, a cloud of dust rising around her. The sheets were stiff with age and disuse, a poignant reminder of how long this place had stood empty, waiting.

"Where do we even start?" she whispered, her eyes scanning the cluttered room. Every nook and cranny could potentially hide the crucial piece of technology they sought.

Cody knelt beside her, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to engulf her. "We start at the beginning," he said softly. "And we don't stop until we find it. Your father left this for you to find, Paige. He believed in you. We'll figure this out together."

Paige nodded, drawing strength from his words and the tangible connection to her father surrounding her. A half-forgotten Sunday school lesson drifted into her mind, and she found herself murmuring, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."

Cody raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"Matthew 7:7," she explained, her voice growing stronger. "It seems fitting, doesn't it? We're definitely in for some serious seeking."