Free Mark of the Devil by William Kerr

were decommissioned, lots of people wanted one. Jacques Cousteau, for one, to replace the old
Calypso.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Once dived on a wreck with one of Cousteau’s team members. He told me.” Scanning the ship with the binoculars, Matt added, “Still got the helo deck on the stern and the original two-hundred-ton crane It would’ve been used to lower a Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle into the water for personnel recovery from a sunken sub, but the DSRV’s gone and so are the emergency personnel transfer capsules. Question is, why are they out here?” Biting his lower lip in thought, Matt lowered the binoculars. “Could the Coast Guard have asked somebody else to check on the barge?”
    “No. I talked with Commander Worley yesterday and told him we were coming out to make sure the buoy lines were still secure on the barge. He would’ve mentioned it if they had anybody else doing it. Fact, he said it’d be at least another two, three weeks before they could raise the barge and tow it out of here. Thanked me for coming out to check.”
    As
Native Diver
drew closer, Matt said, “This is not some coincidence, Steve. And they’re not just stopping by for a quick look-see. Anchor balls, forward and aft. And that flag flying from the main mast…” He tried to focus his binoculars for a clearer view. “If the wind’ll stand it out a little more…uhh, A-F…AFI. Sonofabitch! Antiquity Finders, Inc. We’ve got a problem, but who could’ve told them?”
    “Probably Bruder,” Park answered. “The archeology big shot from Tallahassee that came to see me when you were in Washington. Didn’t trust that guy the minute I saw him.”
    “Brandy Mason seemed to think he’s pretty sharp.”
    “Maybe that’s the problem. Too sharp. Sneaky, you ask me. The way I told him to wait out in the store, and suddenly there he was, standing in the doorway to the office when I was putting the magnetometer printout in the desk. If he didn’t see what I was doing, he’s blind, which I seriously doubt. And half a second later, he says he’s surprised we haven’t already used a magnetometer.”
    With the two orange warning buoys now in sight, Park eased back on the throttle and allowed the dive boat to slowly putter in toward the first buoy he knew was secured to the after section of the barge. “There’s a line on the bow,” Park said. “If you’ll get it and tie it off to the buoy line, we’ll find out if they’ve got divers down there.”
    With the binoculars raised once again, Matt said, “Already know that. Over there.” He pointed toward a double mushroom of air bubbles breaking the surface. “Just forward of the buoy marking the front of the barge. Two divers at least.”
    Swinging the binoculars up toward the ship’s pilothouse bridge, he said, “There’s a guy on the ship checking us out with binoculars…and now he’s on the phone. Two bits’ll get you a dollar, he’s letting his boss know
Native Diver
and its crew of two have arrived.”
    Within moments, three other men stepped onto the bridge, two carrying what looked to Matt through the binoculars like rapid-fire machine pistols. The third man, much older, was nautically dressed as though spending a day at sea on his yacht. He held a megaphone, which he raised to his mouth. “You’re violating restricted water. Please leave immediately.”
    Matt yelled back over the noise from
Native Diver’s
engine, “Who the hell…” To Park, “The engine—shut her down!” As soon as Park flipped the ignition switch to OFF, Matt shouted, “Whatta you mean, restricted water? By whose order?”
    “State of Florida,” the man called back.
    “That’s bullshit! We put these warning buoys out here the other day on a sunken barge at the request of the Coast Guard. They asked us to come back and check to make sure they’re still secure, and that’s what we’re gonna do.”
    The man lowered the megaphone, turned to the open pilothouse