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If Marten wanted to hit the tourist spots of the city, she would’ve been happy to oblige and they could’ve had this meeting over lunch instead of trying to talk on a crowded, windblown ferry. But Marten never made anything easy.
He’d even insisted that she board the ferry without him and wait for him on the boat—as if he didn’t want to be seen with her. She could never tell if Marten’s penchant for secrecy stemmed from reality or a yearning to play spy.
As Hailey lined up for the day’s last ferry to Alcatraz, she pressed a hand against her midsection—and it had nothing to do with seasickness.
Marten had been secretive. Had asked her not to mention their meeting to anyone. Had refused to come to her place in Pacific Heights, and now he didn’t even want to be seen boarding the ferry with her.
His fear couldn’t have anything to do with what happened in Syria, could it? The CIA and the Department of Defense had already debriefed them about the incident and released them—told them to go home. Ordered them to go home.
She checked her phone cupped in her palm. Marten hadn’t responded to her previous text letting him know she was on her way. She zipped off another one giving him her current status.
The line of people started shuffling forward, and Hailey moved with them. She handed over her ticket and walked onto the ferry, cranking her head back to see if she could catch a glimpse of Marten’s black porkpie hat—his signature fashion accessory. He’d even worn it in Syria at the refugee camp, to the delight of all the children there.
Hailey gulped back the lump of tears lodged in her throat.
The faces of the people in the crowd merged behind her and she stumbled, grabbing on to a handrail. Once on the ferry, she walked up two flights of steps to the third level to get a better view of the rest of the tourists pouring onto the boat.
When she reached the top level, she rested her back against the railing and scanned the San Francisco skyline, which stood in stark relief against the dark blue sky. Winter in the city could be crisp and clear and achingly beautiful—too bad she had to waste this moment on Marten and one of his silly games.
The ferry captain made a few announcements as the boat chugged away from the dock. Had Marten even boarded? She glanced at her phone again. Was he going to give her a meeting place or make her wander around the boat looking for him?
The ferry plowed forward, carving its way through the choppy water of the bay. Hailey spotted a man in a black hat like Marten’s on the second level.
Leaning over, she waved to get his attention, but he seemed to be focused on something in front of him. Wasn’t Marten even looking for her? Why didn’t he just respond to her texts? Typical Marten.
“Excuse me.” She squeezed past a bunch of people near the stairs and headed down to the deck below, the heels of her boots clanging on the metal steps. Not the most practical boating shoes, but she didn’t plan to hoist a sail or anything.
She followed the path she had seen Marten taking to the front of the ferry as it nosed its way to Alcatraz. Standing on her tiptoes, she gazed at the people milling around the deck, phones out, taking pictures of the shore, Coit Tower gleaming in the distance, and then swinging around and taking pictures of Angel Island and the fast-approaching prison on Alcatraz.
She huffed out a breath of annoyance through her nose. No sight of Marten. What kind of game was he playing with her? There had always been whispers about Marten posing as a relief worker to spy—rumors he’d done nothing to squelch. She’d always brushed them off before, but his actions today sure hinted at covert activity.
Up ahead, a commotion broke out along the railing of the boat. A few people screamed, and a man yelled.
As Hailey drew closer, her heart picking up speed, she heard a man shout, “Man overboard. Man overboard.”
A sickening dread punched her in the gut. She pushed her way toward the crowd of people hanging over the side of the ferry, staring at the rough water churning beneath the boat.
As Hailey drew closer to the mayhem, she spotted a black hat on the deck. Her heart stuttered and she lunged forward to retrieve the hat, only to be blocked by a crew member.
With his arm barring her progress, the crew member shouted, “Back up. Everyone back away from this area of the ferry.”
