Thirty-Seven
Monday, December 20
Old Port Royal Bay
Climbing the ladder to the deck of the Tesoro, Thomas held the fin with the amputated foot in front of his face so that he wouldn’t be easily recognized. It stood to reason that when a man was holding an amputated foot, just about everything else about him would be invisible.
At the top of the ladder, Thomas paused to take off his own fins. He stashed them behind a storage bin, then slipped the MK1 between them. Only then did he climb fully onto the lower deck.
The scene was pure chaos. Many men were injured and bleeding, and the others were tending to them. Their shouts were mostly in Spanish, which meant they were probably locals from Roatan. Thomas spotted neither Julian nor Nguyen among them. But Thomas did see a familiar face. A
