Ocean Prey (A Prey Novel #31) - John Sandford Page 0,85

aboard, grab the line and pull it in. Stay off the engine. We don’t want to put a lot of stress on the bags and we don’t want them windmilling.”

“Got it,” Cattaneo said.

Regio to Rae: “I’m starting to pucker up myself. This nighttime shit is getting real.”

Virgil turned on his air, and with Lange’s help, pulled on the backplate and wing with the tanks. He loosened the shoulder straps a bit, checked to make sure he could reach over his shoulder to both valve knobs, tightened the waist and crotch straps, pumped some air into the wing, stuck the mouthpiece in his mouth, and took a few breaths, then pulled it and said, “We’re good to go.”

“Three minutes,” Cattaneo said, looking at the screen on his navigation station. “We’re right on line.”

Virgil went through a last rapid check of all the equipment, and when Cattaneo said, “One minute,” Rae stepped up to Virgil and kissed him on the mouth: “You be cool, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah . . .”

* * *

At thirty seconds, Regio and Lange helped Virgil up on the rail on the eastern side of the boat and held him there, looking out at the ocean and away from the beach. Virgil could see lights of boats well ahead, and well behind them, but only three or four, total. Not much close-by traffic after dark . . .

Cattaneo: “Ten seconds. I’m going to cut the engine in eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, it’s off.”

Holding the Genesis DPV in his hands, like an extra-long submarine sandwich, Virgil tucked his chin and stepped over the side and into the dark water. The boat slipped silently away, and Virgil bobbed on the surface like a cork. A moment later, the boat’s engine fired, and Rae called quietly, “Careful, babe.”

Virgil checked the gear again. Everything seemed good and tight, and he looked at his dive computer, on which he’d gone to the compass screen. They’d put him in the water at a point where he had to navigate directly west to the dive location. He steadied his arm as he rode up and down in the low rollers, picked out a brightly lit condo on the coast that was due west, turned on the Genesis.

At what he and Julie Andrews, the Sunrise Scuba instructor, had figured was about two hundred feet per minute, Virgil settled in to drive, the Genesis just below the surface, his head just above. The prop of the Genesis wanted to pull him off line, so he had to continually correct, but it wasn’t a problem, as long as he could see the condo.

Ten minutes. Eleven. Twelve. He cut the DPV’s engine, gave the wing a shot of air to lift him a bit higher, and looked around. No boats nearby.

He checked the GPS watch, did some numbers in his head. He was a bit north of where he needed to be and still a couple of hundred feet east. He powered up the Genesis, counting to himself, then cut the engine. According to the GPS watch, he was within fifteen meters of his precise drop spot. The coastal lights were brilliant to the west. He could see nothing either north or south, although he could see what he thought were freighter lights well to the east.

He kicked to the exact drop spot, aware that the GPS was probably not as precise as he was trying to be. When he got there, he took a minute to relax and recalculate. The heroin cans should be almost straight beneath him. If there were no current, he’d be dropping about a hundred feet north of the south end of the drop string. No GPS underwater, so he had to hope he was close.

When he was cool, he checked the binders on the lift bags, then began releasing air from his wing. He dropped slowly at first, and then more quickly. He put quick shots of air into the wing to slow the descent, watching his dive computer as he dropped. He could feel no current, but then, he wouldn’t feel much, because he was fundamentally part of it.

He dropped past a hundred feet and a hundred and ten, where he often began to feel the first soft effects of nitrogen narcosis. He felt fine, nothing unusual. At a hundred and thirty, he began to feel it, a hint of light-headedness. A moment later, he slowed his descent and hovered, pulled a flashlight and pointed it down, dropped a bit,