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The officer leading the boarding crew immediately radioed the captain of the San Gabriel. There was terror in his voice as he described what they had found. The victims’ bodies had turned green and their faces had been melted away, as if burned by a tremendous heat. A stench pervaded the ship, described as sulfurous in nature. The position of the bodies seemed to indicate that there had been a terrific struggle before they had died. Arms and legs were twisted in unnatural contortions, and the hideously burned faces all seemed to be facing north. Even a small dog, obviously one of the passenger’s, bore the same strange injuries.

After a short conference in the wheelhouse, the boarding party signaled the captain of the San Gabriel for a towing rope. It was their intent to claim the Lillie Marlene as salvage and tow the yacht and her morbid cargo to Honolulu.

Then suddenly, before the San Gabriel could come into position, a massive explosion ripped the Lillie Marlene from bow to stern. The force from the blast rocked the San Gabriel and hurled debris over a quarter of a mile.

Horror-struck, the crew and captain of the San Gabriel stood by helplessly as the shattered remains of the Lillie Marlene settled and then plunged from sight, taking with it the entire boarding party.

After studying the evidence and listening to eyewitnesses, the Coast Guard Board of Inquiry closed the case with the finding: “The death of the crew and passengers and the subsequent explosion and sinking of the yacht, the Lillie Marlene, can only be classified as caused by circumstances or persons unknown.”

Pitt closed the folder and placed it on Hunter’s desk.

“What we have there,” Hunter said somberly, “is the only known case of a distress call prior to the disaster, as well as eyewitness reports as to the condition of the personnel involved.”

Pitt said “It would appear that the Lillie Marlene was attacked by a boarding crew.”

Boland shook his head. “The men who boarded from the San Gabriel were cleared. Radio directional equipment established the Spanish freighter’s position as being twelve miles from the disaster when she answered the distress call.”

“No other ship was sighted?” Pitt asked.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Denver volunteered. “But piracy on the high seas went out with the manufacture of cutlasses.”

“Dupree’s message also mentioned a mist or fog bank,” Pitt persisted. “Did the San Gabriel sight anything resembling a fog?”

“Negative,” Hunter answered. “The first Mayday came in at 2050 hours. That’s dusk in this latitude. A dark horizon would have blotted out any hint of an isolated fog bank.”

“Besides,” Denver said, “fog in this part of the Pacific Ocean in the month of July is as rare as a blizzard on Waikiki Beach. A small, localized fog bank is formed when stagnant warm air cools to condensation most often on a still night when it meets with a cool surface. There are no such conditions around these parts. The winds are nearly constant throughout the year and a seventy-two to eighty-degree water temperature could hardly be called a cool surface.”

Pitt shrugged his shoulders. “That settles that.”

“What we have there,” Hunter said somberly, “is San Gabriel had not arrived when it did, the Lillie Marlene would have exploded and sunk to the bottom anyway. Then it would have been written off as one more mysterious disappearance.”

Denver stared at him. “On the other hand, if something not of this world had attacked the Littie Marlene, they’d hardly have done so with another ship in sight, or allowed time for an inspection by boarders. They must have had a purpose.”

Boland threw up his hands. “There he goes again.”

“Stick to the facts, Commander.” Hunter gave Denver an icy look. “We’ve no time for science fiction.”

The men fell silent; only the muffled sounds of the equipment outside the paneled walls seeped through the quietness. Pitt rubbed his hand tiredly across bis eyes, then held his head as if to clear his mind. When he spoke, the words came very slow.

“I think Burdette has touched on an interesting point.”

Hunter looked at him. “You’re going to buy little green men with pointed ears who have a grudge against seagoing ships?”

“No,” Pitt answered. “But I am going to buy the possibility that who or what is behind the disasters, wanted that Spanish freighter to make the discovery for a purpose.”

Hunter was interested now. “I’m listening.”

“Let’s grant bad weather, bad seamanship, and bad luck for a small percentage of missing ships. Then we go one step further and say there’s intelligence behind the remaining mysteries.”

“Okay, so there’s a brain running the show,” said Boland. “What did he...” He paused and stared at Denver smiling. “Or it, have to gain by letting those Spaniards catch him in the middle of a mass murder?”

“Why would he deviate from an established routine?” Pitt replied with another question. “Sailors are notoriously superstitious people. Many of them can’t even swim, much less put on a scuba tank and dive under the surface. Their lives are spent crossing the surface. And yet, their innermost fears, their nightmares, are centered around drowning at sea. My guess is that it was a deliberate plot by our unknown villain for the Lillie Marlene’s passengers and crew to be found heaped about the decks in ungodly mutilation. Even the dog wasn’t spared.”

“Sounds like an elaborate plot to scare a few seamen,” Boland persisted.

“Not merely scare a few seamen,” Pitt continued, “but a whole fleet of seamen. In short, the whole show was staged as a warning.”

“A warning for what?” Denver asked.

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