Still sharing what I’ve already written pre-Oct. By the time this chapter is published I’ll’ve begun The Great Rewrite.
Nice image, that…don’t you think?
Enjoy!
Sean surfaced slowly and rotated without making ripples. No one, no thing, besides himself in the cave. Boston’s record-breaking heatwave had daytime temperatures in the high nineties, nighttime temps not much less, and the downtown was, literally, a melting pot. People claimed they could see the waterfront boil and the seawater hadn’t been spared. A mist rose in the cave where the warm ocean water hit the cave’s subterranean cool. Not enough to hide in, and Sean was glad of that.
The water rose and lowered quickly. Not him, not the T, not passive or active sonar. Almost like a percussion blast, a pressure wave.
He waited. Nothing else. Probably some waterfront construction.
He focused on the wall sigils his last time here. Seamus thought there might be something more, something other.
Like what?
Kelp? Lichen? A scribe holding a writing tablet transposing his efforts to the bioluminescent walls?
Seamus’s placement on a DO NOT FLY list bothered him. His cousin a terrorist?
Caic tarbh! Nobody with half a brain in their head would buy that story.
Still, there it was. Seamus O’Hearn was on a DO NOT FLY list.
Too many coincidences.
But who in hell would care about what’s scratched into the walls of a cave you can only get to underwater?
Didn’t matter now.
He hadn’t investigated those other caves, the darkness in the walls, the tunnels leading…where?
This was a secret staging area for a smuggling operation?
Not bad. Except you’d need some kind of powered submersible if you were smuggling anything with mass.
But how many men were involved in the operation?
Had enough, you could make a chain.
And if this was an old T tunnel? Did they store equipment here? Wouldn’t there be service tracks to and from?
He rose from the water, waited for ocean to shed itself from his dive suit, less chance of sloshing, making a sound, being heard by others.
Another look around.
He turned on his headlamp, shined it in the tunnel entrances, and saw it light a backwall in one.
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