After a perfect day of snorkeling and diving, the four friends, Bill, Monique, Charlotte and Chip relaxed in the cockpit of the fishing yacht they had chartered. Bill Randolph, at age forty-three, his skin bronzed and his reddish brown hair bleached partially blond by the sun, was in great physical shape. He had only a few months left on his five-year contract as liaison in the field for the Senate Oversight Committee to the CIA and was looking forward to his retirement. Monique, his wife of four years, now at the ripe old age of twenty-five, with long blond hair and green eyes had one of those figures poets write about. She was happy to be with her normally very busy husband and see him relax for a few days.
Chip and Charlotte Latimer had been married for about the same length of time as Monique and Bill, but it had become obvious to their friends that they had some marital problems. Charlotte was hoping this vacation would help to overcome some of them.
The weather had been unseasonably warm, and a gentle late afternoon breeze rocked the fishing yacht anchored off the Dry Tortugas. The four of them were sipping their Margaritas, and it was this idyllic scene that the captain interrupted when he delivered a message that the marine operator wanted Bill on the radio.
“Where the hell are you?” The voice on the ship to shore demanded. “It’s taken me all day to track you down.”
“I’m on vacation, Reg, the first one in over four years, you should know. The one that Monique has been planning for the past six months.”
“I know, I know, I wouldn’t call you if it weren’t really important,” Senator Gilbert responded trying to sound sympathetic. “I really need you here for a meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss an extremely high priority assignment, and I’ll have Angie book a flight from Lauderdale for you tomorrow morning.”
“Take it easy, Reg. It will take us a full day to get back to Key West.”
“Ohh…exactly where are you?”
“We’re anchored off the Dry Tortugas just south of Fort Jefferson.”
“The