Within an hour, though, two salty looking bosun’s mates arrived on the scene, and began pulling serious looking ropes from a line locker on the pier, a sight that set Angi’s heart soaring. One of them had a black radio clipped to his belt, and Angi
listened closely to the crackling communications on it, alert for any mention that would mean anything to her; the name of the ship, Danny’s voice, anything of the kind.
She heard a whistle from sea before she saw anything.
“There they are,” said Cindy, pointing.
Angi could see them then, a single dot on the horizon that soon grew. She saw that there were tugs on either side of the submarine, their jaunty profiles contrasting with the round, black mysteriousness of the submarine’s hull.
A jeep suddenly pulled up behind them on the pier, one captain driving another captain. The driver was Mario Soldato. Angi didn’t know the other one, but she thought she might have seen him around base, at some function or another. He wore gold dolphins and a command pin. She presumed he was Shields’ relief. Or, perhaps, Soldato’s relief. While the
“Can you see them?” said Mario.
Angi nodded and Cindy stepped to her side. They got out of the jeep and walked to the
After taking a look and focusing his, Soldato handed them to Angi. “Take a look?”
She lifted them to her eyes, taking a moment to find the
He was serious, but happy, she could see. He was pointing toward them with a massively bandaged hand. She wondered if he’d already spotted them, and recognized her the same way she had instantly recognized him. Without lowering her binoculars, she lifted her left hand and waved.
His smile broadening, he lifted his bandaged hand and waved back.
Angi put the binoculars down. With her free hand, she verified again that in her pocket was the ultrasound photo of their unborn baby girl.