Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,30

he loved far behind. This was one of the downfalls to leaving. The other was an incredible, sultry woman named Persia.

Both now belonged to the past. Walker locked his heart yet one more time. Now was the time for clear, salt air in his nose, and getting his head on straight. He had to find out who was behind his multiple accusations.

To be safe, he kept the ship-to-shore radio on all that day. At sunset, before he lost what was left of the already fading daylight, he slowed the engine to idle and removed a coiled bundle of sturdy nylon rope from the cockpit supply locker. He had something to do that couldn’t wait one more day.

At the prow of the Nymph, he tied a loop in one end of the rope, secured the other end to the polished starboard wooden railing, then adjusted the distance between loop and railing to the correct height. With the same agility that had earned him his SEAL handle in the Teams, he climbed over the railing to satisfy the gods of good fortune, sea, and wind.

Slipping one foot into the knotted loop for support, he dangled from the Nymph’s prow, and scraped off the yacht’s registration. But changing a ship’s ID and name was serious business to superstitious sailors, and Walker was damned superstitious these days. Before the night was over, there’d be no more Coronado’s Sea Nymph on the high seas.

“Hey, Poseidon. Hey, Neptune,” he murmured to the ancient gods while he worked. “I humbly beg your favors and blessings upon this sea-worthy vessel as I rename her. I vow I will do no harm with this yacht, nor cause another sailor grief. Praise and thanks be to both of you for keeping her safe for me. From this day forward, let her be known as” —the new name came easily to him— “Persia Smiles.”

And just like that, the superstitious chant changed to heartfelt prayer. “Let her be stronger than she thinks she is, Father. Let her always seek safe waters. Let her fly on eagle’s wings. May the wind be always at her back. When sudden storms threaten her course, send your light to guide her home. Keep Persia safe, Father, please—for me.”

He stuck the last of the scraped off, sticky vinyl into his rear pocket, then tugged the brand-new stencils from inside his t-shirt, where he’d put them to keep them dry. Carefully he removed the paper backing, then aligned the new letters and numbers.

The same job port side went easier. Quicker. By the time Walker was back up on the narrow forward deck, it was dark. The yacht’s nighttime running lights had automatically come on. Hurriedly, he untied the rope and stowed it back in the cockpit storage locker. There was more work to be done.

Removing one of several LED lanterns from that same locker, he headed below deck to Commander Goff’s well-stocked liquor cabinet. There, Walker requisitioned two bottles, one red wine and one champagne with an impressive gold label. Hmmm, Louis Roederer ‘Cristal’ Brut. Sounded decadently expensive. It would do.

On the swim deck at the rear of the yacht, he uncorked the pricey red first, and raised the bottle to the mighty gods of wind. Every sailor worth his salt knew them by name. “I call upon you, Boreas of the North, Zephyrus of the West, Eurus of the East, and Notus of the South. Hear me now. From this night forward, Coronado’s Sea Nymph shall exist no more.”

As if those gods were alive and listening, a breeze lifted Walker’s hair, ruffling through it like fingers of approval from the great beyond. Like a fatherly pat on the head.

Pouring the wine off the side into the sea, he prayed, “This offering of red wine symbolizes the sacrifice and blood of virgins. I offer it to you mighty warriors, that you may blow away the stench of the old name and clean the wounds this vessel might have caused in her travels, through no fault of her own. I beg you to forgive her past, bless her future and her new name. Bless Persia Smiles with favoring winds and following seas, wherever she sails.”

As before, the superstitious supplication led to earnest prayer. “Father, from this day forward, this sound and seaworthy vessel shall forever be known as Persia Smiles. Watch over her for me. Send Thy angels to guard her as she begins her new job with… with...” Damn, what was that guy’s name? Oh, yeah. “Alex Stewart,