“That’ll work,” Sam said.
“I’m going to check on what the divers found this time around,” Leonid said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
They watched him trudge down the beach, ungainly as a stork in his long khaki pants and tropical-weight long-sleeved shirt. Remi leaned in to Sam. “What do you make of this?”
Sam shook his head. “I have no clue. I’ll reserve judgment until we know more. But it’s definitely intriguing.”
“What baffles me is how anything could remain undiscovered this close to shore.”
Sam looked around the desolate bay. “Well, there isn’t a lot going on here, is there?”
Remi nodded. “I think we agreed on that a few minutes ago.” She shook out her auburn hair, and Sam noted that she was already getting tanned. He eyed her reclining form and slid closer.
They watched Leonid bark at the lounging islanders, who reluctantly rose and pulled one of the skiffs to the beach so he could board. A small wiry man wearing cutoffs and a dark brown T-shirt splashed to the stern and hoisted himself over the side. After three energetic pulls on the starter cord, the old motor roared to life, and they backed away from shore and cut a beeline to the dive boat.
Remi glanced down the beach to where several of the islanders were dozing in the shade near the water’s edge and sighed.
“You have to admit the place is idyllic. I mean, blue sky, warm water, trade winds . . . What more could you ask for?”
Sam grinned. “Cold beer?”
“The one-track Fargo mind surfaces again.”
“Not entirely one-track,” Sam said.
Remi laughed. “We’ll have to try out a track or two tonight.”
Leonid’s boat returned several minutes later, and when he disembarked, the frown lines on his face were etched deeper than ever. He glared at the loafing natives and stomped back to where the Fargos were sitting. “They confirmed that there are a number of mounds covered with marine growth. They think they’re structures.”
Remi’s eyes narrowed. “Structures? What kind of structures?”
“They aren’t sure, but they appear to be the ruins of buildings.”
Sam gazed off at a line of storm clouds on the horizon. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
“They have to be ancient,” Leonid said, and then glared at the boat. “Damned locals and their superstitions . . .”
Remi’s brow furrowed. “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, the head of the local team’s giving me problems. Says after this he doesn’t want to dive on the site any longer. That he remembers his great-grandfather saying something about this bay being bad juju or some such idiocy.” Leonid snorted, and wiped his brow with a soiled red bandanna. “Trying to get more money out of me, the crook. Old gods indeed.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That if he wants to get paid at all, he’ll finish out today’s dives, and then based on what he’s able to find, I’ll decide whether to hire him again. I won’t be extorted. I’m already paying well over top dollar. That shut him up.”
Sam studied the Russian. “Leonid, while it warms my heart to see you so tightfisted with our budget, from what you’ve described, these guys are the only game in town, right? If you don’t use them, what’s plan B?”
“I’ll get my own people to fly in.”
“With all their own gear?” Sam asked skeptically.
“Sure,” Leonid said, but his look conveyed less confidence than his words.
“If there are really ruins down there, maybe we should try to locate an expedition ship? Something self-contained that can go the long haul?” Remi suggested. “Who do we know in this part of the world?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Nobody springs to mind . . . Leonid?”
The Russian shook his head. “I can ask around.”