“Ahoy,” he called. Unlike Sam and Remi’s previous encounters with the coast guard, this captain was grim-faced. No welcoming smile or pleasantries.
“Ahoy,” Sam replied.
“Routine safety check. We will board you now.”
“Be our guest.”
The gunboat’s engines gurgled, and the Yulin angled closer until its bow was ten feet away. The engines went back to idle, and the Yulin glided to a stop beside them. The sailors on the afterdeck tossed tire bumpers over the side, then reached down, grabbed the Andreyale’s railing, and pulled the boats together. The captain vaulted over the railing and landed catlike on the Andreyale’s afterdeck beside Sam and Remi.
“You are flying the diver flag, I see,” he said.
“Doing a little snorkeling,” Sam replied.
“This boat is yours?”
“No, a rental.”
“Your papers.”
“For the boat?”
“And diving certificates.”
Remi said, “I’ll get them,” then trotted down the steps into the cabin.
The captain asked Sam, “What is your purpose here?”
“On Zanzibar or here specifically?”
“Both, sir.”
“Just on vacation. This seemed like a nice spot. We were here yesterday.”
Remi returned with the documents and handed them to the captain, who first examined the rental agreement, then their diving certificates. He looked up and studied their faces. “You are Sam and Remi Fargo.”
Sam nodded.
“The treasure hunters.”
Remi said, “For lack of a better term.”
“Are you hunting treasure on Zanzibar?”
Sam smiled. “That’s not why we came, but we try to keep our eyes open.” Over the captain’s shoulder, behind the tinted windows of the Yulin’s cabin, Sam saw a shadowed figure. It appeared to be staring at them.
“Have your eyes seen anything on this visit?”
“A coin.”
“You are aware of Tanzanian law regarding these matters?”
Remi nodded. “We are.”
From the Yulin, a knuckle rapped once on the window.
The captain looked over his shoulder, said to Sam and Remi, “Wait here,” then climbed back over the railing and stepped into the Yulin’s cabin. He reappeared a minute later and jumped back down.
“The coin you have found—describe it.”