Chapter 14The sun was low over the water as they approached the rig. Some lights showed aboard.
“Slow ahead,” Mitch ordered. Cal was steering, and he throttled back. The engine noise diminished. The three women were all on the prow of the boat, their weapons ready. Mitch raised binoculars to check things out.
“No strange boats,” he said, seeing nothing suspicious moored by the rig. “I’m going to signal.” They had a Morse lamp they’d swiped months ago while on an earlier trip to the dockyard. Bren had taught him Morse code, rapping him on the knuckles with a ruler when he got an answer wrong. She favored the older methods of education.
“Signaling back,” he said. “Using the right codes.” Of course, one of their people could be forced into using the right code if someone had her at gunpoin
