26
It was dark and deathly quiet on Saturday morning when Ellen and Nick steered the boat out of the Hatteras Harbor Marina towards the deeper waters, making their way parallel to where William Ying first stood on the beach the day FBI agent Gunston took the photo. Reaching their destination, Nick turned off the engine and looked to shore.
“Out far enough do you think?” Ellen asked.
“This will do it,” he answered. “So they could be looking for a boat or ship to come in or, I know this will sound a bit out there, but a submarine to rise.”
“You’re right, it’s out there. But hey, never say never. I’ll have a look if there’s anything untoward below, other than a couple of wrecks.”
“Isn’t it too dark to go down yet?” Nick said.
“Maybe, but it’s another hour until sunrise. I’ll see what I
