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you put it in with the help of an industrial sub rented from an oil company?”
    Al nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s only at 250 feet, though, which puts it well within the depth rating of our own mini-sub.”
    “It has a 1,000-foot rating,” one of Al’s engineers, a lanky bald American said while twirling his pen incessantly.
    Al Jumped back in. “I know it doesn’t have the tool-kit for actually making serious repairs the oil company sub has, but it would allow us to drop down there and have a look, see what the problem is. If we’re lucky, it’s just some stray flotsam clogging up the intake that can be removed with the mini-sub’s grab arm,” he finished, folding his arms as he looked at White.
    The developer felt a knot take form in his stomach as he recalled his meeting with Coco and Mick yesterday at the sub dock. What’d he estimate? At least a day to fix that thruster? He glanced at his watch again. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. When it rains it fucking pours ...
    “James? For a guy who seems worried about time you sure are taking long enough to answer.”
    “Our little sub is meant for eco-tours, not heavy equipment wrangling. Any chance we could get that oil sub or one like it over here in the next few hours?”
    Al shot an inquisitive glance to a bespectacled Indian man who tapped some keys on a laptop, and then shook his head. “Three day wait at the earliest,” he confirmed.
    Al looked back to White, and raised his eyebrows. “We need to get a look at it, James. It’s going to start getting warm down there.”
    White cursed under his breath. The thought of all those VIPs paying thousands of dollars per night to sweat their asses off was most unsavory indeed.
    “I’ll go tell Coco to get the sub ready.” He’d have to leave it at that. He couldn’t bring himself to break the news about their only submersible not being operational, the last he’d heard. He turned to leave, and whirled back around. “Do we have backup A/C, regular units? Something to cool the place off down there in the meantime?”
    Al shook his head, but then looked around the table at his people, who also shook their heads. “Window units are obviously out.” This elicited a round of chuckles from his crew of geeks, which irritated the crap out of White, so he hurried to continue. “If we take the chopper, we might be able to pick up a few wall units over in Suva, but even that would take a few hours plus install time.”
    White glared at him.
    “We’ll get on that, though, just in case as a backup. George, Rene, Alex—you three spec out the units, and make the run.” He turned back to White.
    “Hopefully, we won’t need ‘em after we go down in the sub, though, right?”
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
    “Look at this view, will you! Oh my God!” Staci Lincoln stood in the bedroom of their suite in the Triton Undersea Resort, bouncing up and down with excitement. Sunlight dappled across a vibrant coral reef, while a rainbow of brightly colored tropical fish darted about. Her pro-football player husband, John Rudd, seemed mildly interested at best in the ocean outside their room’s floor-to-ceiling panoramic window. He stood behind his girlfriend, admiring her curvy form.
    “It’s a little hot in here, though, don’t you think?” she said, still admiring the view.
    “It sure is. I’m checking out the view, all right. Liking it!”
    She reached back and swatted at him, a blow that he easily ducked. He caught her by the wrist, and led her to the king bed, done up with silk sheets and a down comforter emblazoned with the resort’s logo.
    “What are you doing?”
    He pulled her onto the bed, and she protested weakly. ”Hey, we’re supposed to go to brunch. I’m hungry!”
    “They said we’re the first ones here. They can get things warmed up over there, while we get them warmed up in here.” He pulled her on top of him.
    “John...” Her objections became