After calming the girl somewhat, she walked with her to the pier, where the catamaran was in the process of loading passengers for the return trip. Tiffany escorted the girl up the pier, casting questioning glances at other women about the girl’s age who might have been the two potentially missing friends. Tiffany thought it likely the two girls had become disoriented and had decided on the smart course of action by returning to the pier.

But after a quick search of almost all sixty people already on board, she had to admit that maybe there was something to the girl’s story. Just to be sure, she walked both the upper and lower decks a second time, then disembarked to the pier, where she scanned the beach and surrounding hills.

The brunette approached her. “What are we going to do?”

As the park ranger on duty, it was Tiffany’s responsibility to find the missing persons. But she didn’t need a frantic civilian rushing her search and rescue operation. She leveled her gaze on the girl. “You are going to get on the boat and go home. I have the information I need. I’ll find them and get them back to the mainland.”

“But…”

Tiffany guided her back onto the boat. “No buts,” she said. “You three will be laughing about this over margaritas by Sunday.”

The girl seemed to relax at that comment but still appeared a little hesitant as she returned to take her seat outside on the lower deck. Tiffany gave her a slight wave, then turned back for the ranch, where she could make her missing persons report and begin what was sure to be a long night looking for the women.

How hard is it to stick to the trails?

When she reached the ranger station, she walked inside and sat down in a cheap swivel chair in front of the duty desk. She knew the island like the back of her hand and would take the truck to search the roads most visitors used for hiking, but she wanted to notify Coast Guard Sector Los Angeles-Long Beach so they could begin mobilizing assets before it got too late. For as big as the island was, a helicopter with infrared search capability might make her job just a little bit easier.

“Why’s it always happen on a Friday?”

31

USS Mobile Bay (CG-53)

Beth sat in her chair on the bridge and yawned, looking out across the bow of her ship as they crisscrossed the Point Mugu Sea Range. She had worried how her crew might respond to the excitement from the night before, but as she walked the deck plates earlier that morning, she was surprised to hear very little scuttlebutt on the topic. Nothing about the swirling orbs of light that had harassed them for half an hour. Nothing about the F-35C that had almost crashed into them.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Master Chief said in greeting as he approached.

“Master Chief.”

“Beautiful day on the water,” he said.

“Another fine Navy day.” It sounded trite, but the water west of San Clemente Island was unusually calm and almost seemed to blend in with the horizon. If not for the faint outline of San Nicolas Island rising out of the water in front of them, it would have been hard to discern where the Pacific Ocean ended and the sky began.

He leaned forward and looked through the windows at the broad expanse of ocean surrounding them. “The surface picture is clear,” he said in an offhanded manner.

She nodded. “It seems merchant vessels really do pay attention to the Notices to Mariner.”

Master Chief knew she was telling a joke, but his face remained impassive. “We should be on station within the hour and can commence flight ops to clear the seascape around the… target.”

She grinned.

“You don’t like it, do you?” Beth saw it in his body language. He didn’t like the idea of sinking what had once been a United States Navy ship any more than she did.

Ben turned and squared his body to her, then he narrowed his eyes. “No, ma’am. I served on the Bonhomme Richard back in the day. Have a lot of good memories of her, and I don’t like the idea of sinking her just so the flyboys can test some new missile.”

Like most sailors, Ben had his superstitions. She’d spent her entire adult life sailing the world’s oceans and understood how the Master Chief felt. A Navy ship imprinted on her sailors’ souls and became a part of their identities. She looked around the bridge, knowing that the Mobile Bay would hold a special place in her heart. Especially after this, her final voyage.

But as an officer, Beth knew that it was also for the greater good. Even after the reckless pilot had endangered her ship and crew the night before, she knew an aircraft carrier was powerless without the aircraft it carried. She didn’t like the idea of sinking a former Navy ship either, but the “new missile” Master Chief referred to would enhance the Navy’s lethality. And they needed it to face off against their future enemies.

“Happens all the time, Master Chief.”

“Still don’t like it, Skipper.”