in water, as it might turn out. In that case, the PIW hopefully had on a life jacket or clung to a flotation device. That person would be hoping and praying that the Coast Guard would find and save them. Every minute, every second, counted.
If they had already lost the boat, they would be more easily missed. The vastness of the ocean was cruel in that way.
He was grateful they had been out here, as it was, on the eighty-seven-footer WPB-class Coast Guard patrol cutter—equipped to handle rescues on the high seas. Except, regardless of the equipment, there weren’t enough Coast Guard vessels to adequately protect the ninety-five thousand miles of coastline. That was roughly four and a half million square miles of United States maritime territory. And that made Gage even more concerned they wouldn’t find the sinking boat in time to rescue the person or people involved.
“I see something,” Johns said.
His pulse jumped.
Gage caught sight of something in the water too, just before it disappeared behind another swell. Rain and waves beat the cutter and the small crew of the Kraken. Unlike the Chang brothers, who eluded them because of the storm, whoever was on that sinking boat out there was at the storm’s mercy.
Gage gripped the rail, willing the Kraken to fight the waves, to move faster as it clashed with the treacherous Pacific.
“Come on. If we lose sight of the object in the water now, we probably won’t get another chance,” Gage yelled over the spray of salt water that came with each gust.
He thought his words might have been lost to the wind even though he stood right next to the guy.
“You’re not a crew member, Sessions,” Johns shouted. “You could go back down where it’s warm and dry and let us deal with it.”
“There.” Gage spotted the boat and his stomach plummeted with the crest of the wave. He could see only the top of the vessel. It was about to go under and someone held on to the bow. “Hurry or we’ll be too late!”
Johns urged the Kraken closer.
“Throw the line, we’ll drag him in!” Baines called.
Throw, row and go. That was the usual CG adage to rescue a sinking boat or someone who was about to drown.
A crew member tossed the line over the side, but the rough seas wouldn’t cooperate. The boat dipped completely under.
“Throw it again.”
Gage peered through binoculars, a challenge with the high seas and constant rain. He caught a glimpse of someone...a woman.
He knew her.
Gage’s heart squeezed.
No. It couldn’t be. He swiped an arm over his eyes and blinked the rain and ocean away, frustrated with the wrath of nature. He trained his binoculars again. Where are you? Where are you...
There. In an instant, he got a good, close look at the panic-stricken face. The relief that the Coast Guard had arrived and the hope they would rescue her. The fact that he knew this woman sunk into his marrow.
That changed everything.
“Captain, we can’t get the line to her. The storm is making that impossible.”
“Let’s take the inflatable out to her then.” While crew members prepared the boat, Gage watched the swells overwhelm her. She appeared so small by comparison.
His gut tensed. “She’s not going to make it if we don’t get someone in the water now!”
“Get belowdecks now, Agent Sessions,” Johns said. “This isn’t part of your operation.”
“I know that woman!” I cared about her once. And he still did.
Johns nodded to crew members behind Gage and they grabbed his arms, presumably to escort him belowdecks. Gage shrugged free. He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’m going, I’m going.”
I’m going in to get her myself.
This time, Gage wasn’t willing to wait around for them to cross every t and dot every i. For them to follow their rules and processes. Images of a failed rescue attempt during a storm like this accosted him.
And this was Sadie. He’d rather risk his life than sit by and watch this unfold before him. Gage prepared his own tender line and hooked himself up. He could act now and ask forgiveness later. The smaller boat wasn’t even in the water yet. The tension in his gut twisted into a tight knot.
It was taking them far too long. The woman had minutes. Seconds even.
His actions were against all procedure.
“Hey, what are you doing?” someone shouted.
Uh-oh. Time was up. It was now or never.
The thick-necked Baines came running toward him, his intention to tackle Gage more than clear. He turned to confront the sea. A wave engulfed him as he stood ready to face off with the beast. Gage snatched a rescue buoy and dragged in a long, deep breath, then he launched himself into the shockingly cold water of the Pacific. He would trust Baines to handle the tender line appropriately.
Gage was in the water, and he was going after the woman. End of discussion.
Shouts and whistles from the shocked crew joined the roar of the storm. He swam furiously against the invincible force of nature, the huge swells and rough water preventing him from catching his breath. Time wasn’t on his side, but he swam forward with only one goal in mind.
Find her. Save her.
With Baines managing the tender line, Gage trusted he wouldn’t be lost at sea, and kicked harder, fighting against this monster ocean railing in the storm. How much more difficult this would be if they weren’t on the waning side of it.
Sadie was definitely the PIW—he saw her clearly now—and she waved at him, then dropped out of sight beneath the surface. In that glimpse of her, he realized she wore no life jacket. Treading water, she fought the sea on her own strength, which must be weakening. With his effort to reach her, his heart banged against his rib cage. Coast Guard protocol would dictate his objective was to establish communication with her, encourage and instruct her. Right. No time for that.
Please, God, let me save her!
Gage swam to where he last saw her. She hadn’t resurfaced. She could be anywhere beneath the water. A current could have swept her far away from him.
“No!” He dove beneath the surface but the too-violent, dark water offered zero visibility.
The crew members of the Kraken shouted at him. Blew their whistles. He glanced back and saw them pointing. They must have spotted Sadie. They’d released the smaller boat into the water, as well. Good. Gage started swimming in the direction they pointed. He couldn’t see her, but hoped he would connect.
Then she bobbed above the water, riding high on a rising swell. Gage had to get to her—he could see in her eyes that if he didn’t reach her this time, she was done. Her lips were blue already. She had to be a good swimmer to have
