Phantom Prospect. Alex Archer

thing.” He looked at Tom. “I suppose we’d better get the charts out and study up on the site if we’re going to be a de facto replacement crew.”

      Tom walked to the nearby metal file cabinets and yanked one of the drawers open. With a sheaf of charts and papers, he laid them out on the table and spread them around. Annja could make out pictures of the ship itself, lists of what its inventory was rumored to have been, and even notes form an old journal.

      “Where’s it supposed to have gone down?”

      Cole sighed. “That was always the problem. The ship sank near Prospect, but attempts to find it so far have proven futile. It was 1814, after all, so maybe the location was wrong. Back then there was no Coast Guard to help fix a position. It always amazes me to think of what people must have thought about when they cast off from dock. There was no guarantee that you’d ever make it home alive. Between storms, dangerous shoals, prowling marauders, you had a slim chance of completing a journey.”

      “And yet they did it,” Annja said. “And they opened up the world to exploration.”

      Cole jabbed his finger at the east coast of Nova Scotia. “Hunter always thought the ship went down here. In about a hundred feet of water. But the currents are strong and there’s no telling where the remains of the ship might have been dragged to since that time.”

      “Almost two hundred years have passed,” said Tom. “That ship could be scattered halfway between Nova Scotia and Greenland.”

      Cole frowned. “Hunter has always based his hunts largely on his intuition. Until he learned to trust it, he never hit it big. The first time he went with his gut, he struck gold, literally. It’s something he tries to abide by to this day. And he seemed pretty convinced he knew where he’d find the wreck.”

      “You believe him?” Annja asked.

      “I’d better,” Cole said. “I’m sinking two million dollars into the hunt for the Fantome. I expect to make that back and then some. The treasure on board would be worth tens of millions of dollars.”

      “If not more,” said Tom. “Remember that a lot of it was taken right form the White House. There’d be gifts and such from all the powerful world leaders at the time in the wake of the Revolutionary War. That stuff today would be an incredible draw for collectors.”

      “Good point.” Cole studied the maps. “I wonder where Hunter is right now and whether he thinks that he knows where he’ll find the largest stock of loot.”

      Annja studied a picture of the Fantome. “So this is the ship?”

      “Loaded down with all that booty, she must have weighed tons,” Cole said. “Imagine setting off bound for England and running into the storm they took the brunt of? No thanks.”

      “After weathering the strong ocean today en route to the sharks, I don’t even want to think about that,” Annja said. “I doubt I would have been a very good sailor.”

      “You get used to it,” said Tom. “But even still, there’s nothing like a strong storm at sea to turn anyone into a true believer in the power of Mother Nature.”

      Annja pored over the pictures and notes. “And to think, now there might be a prowling shark in their midst.”

      “Nothing like the promise of death in an already dangerous job,” Cole said. “I’m sure Hunter is stalking around his boat furious at the sea for the delay this is causing.”

      “What about the body?” Annja asked. “Are they flying it home?”

      “It was a local guy,” Sandy said coming back into the room. “Luckily, they didn’t have far to transport him. Although, with the ceremony being a closed casket, I’m not so sure those he left behind wouldn’t just as soon see him buried at sea.”

      Annja looked up at her. Sandy’s expression didn’t betray a hint of emotion. But she locked eyes with Annja and then broke away long enough to look at Cole. “You’re all set for departure tomorrow morning.”

      Then she glanced back at Annja. “Have a safe trip.”

      4

      Annja, Cole, and Tom flew into Halifax International Airport the next morning. Annja hadn’t slept much the night before, trying to use her laptop to dig up information on the infamous Megalodon that Cole raved about. What she found didn’t cheer her up much. With teeth the better part of six inches long, Meg, as it was more affectionately know, could chomp through whales with ease. And humans were much softer than whales.

      But most scientists agreed the species was long extinct.

      Except for Cole.

      A couple of authors had written some novels about a few remaining species swimming in the vast depths of the oceans, but otherwise, there’d been nothing to ever confirm or even hint at the suggestion there might be others still lurking in the waves.

      She’d eventually fallen asleep with images of giant teeth running through her head.

      Storm clouds blew in as they were making their final approach to the airport and the plane jumped a few times before its wheels finally gripped the tarmac. Annja gave a silent prayer of thanks for having her feet back on terra firma.

      In the terminal, she saw a man standing by himself wearing a Dive the Marianas Trench T-shirt. She elbowed Cole. “That him?”

      Cole smirked. “He always did have a twisted sense of humor.”

      “At least he doesn’t free swim with great whites, huh?”

      “Annja—”

      The man came over and hugged Cole. Annja looked him up and down. He was a few inches taller than Cole and maybe a few pounds lighter. His lean build started with his close-cropped hair and chiseled face that bore a few interesting scars.

      “Hey, bro.”

      Cole hugged him back. “When Sandy told me—”

      Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I know, man. But I’m still here. Don’t have any plans of shoving off any time soon, either.” He turned and faced Annja. “Hi. I’m Hunter.”

      “Annja.”

      He shook her hand and Annja felt the rough sandpaper texture of it. Hunter was used to working hard. “Nice to meet you.”

      Hunter shook hands with Tom. “I see my brother’s still got you working for him, huh?”

      “At least until that other job offer comes through.”

      “Yeah, right.” Hunter led them across the terminal. “We’ll get your bags and then head down. I’ll fill you in on the way. Less chance of being heard, if you catch my meaning.”

      Annja frowned. How come Hunter didn’t want to talk about the attack now? She assumed the local media would have the story all over the wires now. A shark attack in Nova Scotia was a rare thing indeed.

      At the baggage terminal, they got their gear and checked through the customs line quickly. The customs official gave Annja’s passport a whistle as he flipped through it. “You’re quite the world traveler, Miss.”

      Annja smiled at him. “Sometimes, I don’t even know what day it is.”

      Hunter guided them outside and Annja found the temperature pleasant with a warm breeze blowing in. In the parking lot, she spotted a van and Hunter pointed. “That’s our ride. We shouldn’t be on the road all that long.”

      “How far’s Prospect from here?” Cole asked.

      “About twenty three kilometers to the southwest. We’ll just hop on the 333 and be there in no time. If the traffic’s decent.”

      Tom stowed the gear in back and then they all climbed aboard. Cole took shotgun and Annja and Tom slid into the back. Annja leaned forward as Hunter eased the van out of the parking