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Sam dove down into the cold depths, sensing Remi beside him as they swam. A few seconds later, the water lit up as the explosion rocked the air above them, sending a shock wave through the cove. Flaming debris rained down on the water. Sam and Remi kicked harder, Sam hoping the hull of the boat wasn’t going to follow. He had no idea how far they’d swam, only hoped they’d arrive at the safety of the tree. After several more hard kicks, Sam reached out, feeling his hand brush up against the trunk.

He turned in the water, grabbed Remi’s hand, and pulled her beneath the trunk to the other side. They broke the surface, both sucking in air as they treaded water behind the trunk. Just beyond, they heard the crackle and roar of a giant fire, the air glowing above it. The sound of boat engines grew closer.

He used one of the branches to lift himself slightly so that he could peer over the trunk.

Their little fishing boat had overturned and what was left of it was burning in a blinding fire fueled by the spilled gasoline. The two craft carrying the gunmen neared, one moving in close to the vessel. One of the gunmen aimed his weapon toward the cove and fired. Dozens of rounds peppered the burning boat and the water around it.

Finally, the man stopped, looked around, then signaled to the driver. The vessel veered toward them, and Sam quietly dropped into the water, watching as both boats sped off toward the north.

Neither he nor Remi made a move until the engines had faded in the distance. When Sam felt it was safe, he and Remi swam beneath the tree trunk to the other side.

The blast of the explosion had blown their rental boat to the middle of the cove. Beyond it, not much was left of the boulder that had shielded the explosives. It was split down the middle, one half broken into several pieces from the force of the blast, the other half sitting in a deep hole on the shore.

Sam’s gaze returned to the boat. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Remi hadn’t seen the trip wire and they’d gotten out to see what those men had been digging for.

Even Remi couldn’t tear her gaze from the sight.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“We can swim over to Oak Island. There’s got to be a phone at the visitor center. At the very least, we can walk to the mainland from the causeway.”

They had covered about half the distance, nearly a thousand feet, when Sam heard the rumble of a large sea vessel coming from the south.

He glanced in that direction, worried Avery’s men were returning. But as the boat sped into view, its emergency lights flashing atop and spotlights sweeping the water before it, he realized help had arrived.

They both shouted, waving their hands, relieved when the spotlight swung their direction, blinding them momentarily as their rescuers steered toward them.

They were pulled aboard the Royal Canadian Mounted Police vessel, where Sam related what had happened to the captain, who said, “You’re telling me you survived an underwater explosion?”

“No. I am saying we went underwater to survive an aboveground explosion. That boulder,” he said, pointing at it, “or, rather, what’s left of it — directed most of the force away from the water.”

“Darn lucky,” the captain said.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“What makes you think they were targeting you specifically?”

Sam glanced over at Remi, who sat in the chair across the table from him, holding a blanket tightly about her. “Sort of a long story.”

“And I get paid by the hour. So tell away.”

Sam gave as brief a version as he could, starting with the San Francisco trip, Bree’s abduction, and then what she overheard her kidnappers discussing.

“Quite the story, Mr. Fargo,” the captain said. “Any chance it can be verified?”

“Easily. San Francisco PD and Carteret County in North Carolina.”

“We’ll check it out. This employee of yours. Bree Marshall. You’re sure you can trust her? You don’t think she set you up, do you?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“She’s the only one who heard this alleged discussion about Oak Island.”

Remi seemed to bristle at the idea. “I trust her implicitly.”

“And I,” Sam said, “trust my wife’s judgment.”

“Just throwing it out there. Wouldn’t be the first time someone was betrayed from inside.” He looked down at his notes, then back at Sam. “Guess that’s about all the questions I have for now.”

“I have one,” Sam said. “What are the chances of publicly ignoring that you found us?”

“Not sure I get what you’re saying.”

“If you hadn’t found us, what would your impression of the crime scene have been?”

“On first glance? The boat on fire after an explosion? A recovery operation. Search for survivors.”

“So if you have to make a press release, can’t you say that?”

The captain held Sam’s gaze as if contemplating the pros and cons. After a moment, he gave a nod. “Sure. Assuming your story checks out with those other agencies, we could probably work with that.”

“We’d appreciate it,” he said, ignoring Remi’s menacing glance.

* * *
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