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got any way to contact her?”

“Not without really putting her at risk.”

“I hate to ask, but I think you should try, Tom. She knows the dangers, and we really need her help.”

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll give it a shot.”

Back at the hospital later that morning, Gabe was astonished to see the improvement in Alethea. She was sitting up, eating, and chatting with her nurse. Her color had returned, and she was off her numerous monitors.

While Cas stood nearby, Gabe sat beside Alethea on the bed and took her hand. “Well, look at you. That’s got to be the fastest recovery in history.”

Alethea smiled and squeezed his hand. She said goodbye to her nurse and when the three of them were alone, she said, “You did this. You two. I had a visitor last night. Only a tall, dark shadow, but I’d know him anywhere. It was the Baron, and he came not to take my heart but to heal it. I don’t know what ceremony you performed or prayer you prayed, but I can tell you, nothing like this has happened in decades. It was the power of the two of you together, just as I always believed could happen.”

Cas sat next to Gabe and took his other hand. “Things happened, Mémère, things I never would have believed. It had to have been Gabe. That’s the only explanation.”

Gabe was dumbfounded. What he’d thought was only a weird dream was shaping up to be something else entirely. What if Alethea had been right about his “gift” all these years. What if he could have been using it for miraculous healing. Could he have saved Charlie? The questions and possibilities were mind-boggling. As they sat talking, a tall doctor with distinguished salt-and-pepper hair came in.

“I heard you had quite a night, young lady,” he said with a winning smile.

“I think so,” Alethea answered.

“If it’s all right, I’d like to have a listen, and then have you do a CT. We’d just like to make sure you’re as healthy as you look.”

Gabe and Cas moved from the bed, making room.

He listened both front and back, and shook his head in amazement. “I still want to see that CT, but you sound like a twenty-year-old. I can’t believe it. I’m reluctant to use the word miracle, but that’s the only plausible explanation. Alethea, it’s like you’ve got a new heart.”

“Perhaps I do,” she said. “I believe in miracles, and perhaps I do.”

Cas hid her Cheshire cat smile in Gabe’s arm and said nothing. Gabe remembered the beating heart on the silver platter and wondered, of what had he been a part? So many questions. And, considering what was about to happen, so little time.

The subs and their escort made good time the first day and a half. Now, with calm seas and an overcast night, they could surface, dump the toilet, fill the hull with fresh air, and take on fuel.

Sebastian adjusted the ballast by blasting out the water from the air tanks built into the hull and brought his sub quietly to the surface. He climbed the conning tower and opened the hatch. The night air was clean, and he filled his lungs with pure pleasure.

He gave directions to come alongside the mother ship and caught the lines the deckhands threw down. His crew came up onto the deck. They caught the fuel hose and opened the fuel stem pipe.

Sebastian spoke with the bridge over a walkie-talkie. The weather report was good, no Coast Guard or Navy ships had been spotted, and there had been no changes in their orders. Two of his crew stripped and dove in for a quick swim. Sebastian had a healthy respect for sharks, especially at night. Especially following a ship leaving a trail of garbage. He called them back aboard. The fuel tank was topped off and the hose retrieved.

All chores accomplished, they reentered the hull and locked down the hatch. Sebastian opened the valves to flood the ballast tanks, and they slid silently beneath the waves. They held position while Cristóbal and his crew refueled. When Sebastian heard the ship’s big engines churn and the screws start to turn, he brought the sub to its heading and brought the engine up to cruising speed.

“Easy money,” he repeated, and settled in for another six-hour watch at the helm. “Thirty-six hours until payday. Easy money.”

High in the night sky above them, a P-8A Poseidon flew by with an operator glued to a Raytheon AN/APY-10 radar. Designed for anti-sub surveillance, it was the best available.

“What have you got on that cracker box hauler?” the technician asked his crewmate on the computer.

“Looking now, give me a second. Okay, she’s the Anna Christine, Panama registry, out of Cartagena, headed to Galveston to deliver goods and make a pickup.”

“Radar looks like she’s riding high. Let’s have another look. Ask the captain to get us under these clouds.”

As they broke through the clouds, the second sub was just beginning to dive.

“Bogey, bogey,” the tech called. “There’s a sub alongside her. Call it in, and let’s get somebody on her tail. Tell the captain to maintain course and speed. We don’t want to show our hand. Not yet.”

The USS Gabrielle Giffords was just clearing Mobile Bay when she got the call. The position given was halfway across the Gulf, but she was the closest. The big tri-hull was capable of tremendous speed. Commander Edwards called for fifty knots, and the two gas turbines screamed. Still hours away, but with the opportunity to prevent a cataclysmic attack, there was excitement on the bridge.

Senator Benson called Tom immediately. “We may have something. One of the Poseidons got a glimpse of a sub alongside a container ship from Cartagena. We’ve sent the Giffords to check it out.”

“ETA?” Tom asked.

“About six hours, but we’re sending a Falcon to stay with her until we can get another Poseidon back out there. We’ve also called the Coast Guard, and they’ve got a

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