Sixty-One
Wednesday, March 31, 8:24 A.M. CST
West End, Roatan
Thomas saw the look of hesitation on Eva’s face as Owens lowered the Denise into the water. The submarine wasn’t much bigger than a VW Beetle, and attached to it was a small device, about the size of a suitcase, that would float along at the surface in case they needed to use the radio.
Thomas reached for her arm. “It’ll be okay, Eva. Take a deep breath. You wouldn’t want me to have this adventure without you, now, would you?”
Eva smiled. “Not on your life.”
When the Denise was ready, they stepped through the hatch. The submersible’s interior featured a bench situated before a large viewing sphere that promised excellent views. Towels had been laid over the bench for extra padding, and perhaps to ensure they stayed dry onc
