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glass bottom boats, and moonlit cruises. A middle-aged bearded guy with a ponytail and a beer belly met us at the dock, dangling the keys.
    “You must be Dave.” Kyle shook his hand, and Vic and I fo llowed suit.
    “Nice to meet you. The Cleito is all cleaned up and ready for you.”
    I glanced at Vic and Kyle. The Cleito . In Plato’s myth of Atlantis, Cleito bore Poseidon ten sons. An obscure Navy SEAL trident reference, but we all understood the significance of the name instantly.
    Dave handed me the keys. “So what are your plans? I know some great scuba spots.”
    I placed the keys in my pocket. “Thanks, man. We’re just going to relax, go fishing, snorkel, maybe head to Aruba.”
    Dave glared at our seabags, filled with our night-ops equipment. He was no dummy; former old-school frogman. He probably sensed that we were planning something other than checking out the local tropical fish...at least not the kind that swam in the sea. “Well, I’m happy to show you around. Anything you need.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
    “We will.” I eyed Kyle, who nodded toward me. We could trust this man. Any BUD/S class, any trident. He was one of us. Basica lly fucking family.
    “Well, let me give you a tour.” He led us on the boat. It was no luxury yacht by any means but it would be perfect for our needs. Downstairs there was a small galley kitchen, upstairs there were two bedrooms—one with two twin beds and one with a queen, a bathroom, and a tiny living area. And a small area to relax up on top deck. I gave Kyle the keys and he fiddled around with the controls.
    We spent the rest of the day stocking up the ship with food, drinks, and supplies. I’d bought Annie clothes, shoes, toiletries, magazines, some books. Wasn’t sure what she was into but I figured anything that could keep her mind off drugs and what she’d been through would be a good bet.
    Hours later, the sun had finally set. We cleaned, loaded, and concealed our weapons.
    I was ready to fuck some shit up.
    Kyle stood up. “Let’s do this!”
    Operation Rumpelstiltskin was ready to go down. 
    We’d all dressed casually. I had no fear—this was more like a training exercise than a mission.
    Nothing could go wrong.
    We walked down through the back alleys of Curaçao. A rush pulsed through my body. In less than an hour, Annie’s nightmare would be over and a whole new world would begin.
    When we turned onto the street, I gasped. The brothel was n owhere in sight—instead, ashes were strewn across the ground, burnt mattresses collapsed in the street.
    It was gone—she was gone.
    I’d failed her.
    Vic put his arm around my shoulder. “You sure this is the place?” 
    “Positive.”
    Kyle sifted through the embers, eyes focused. “I’m sure she’s alive and they just moved her.”
    My eyelids burned and I could feel the pulse in my throat.
    A man walked by, wearing a watch that looked like the one I’d given the pimp.
    I ran and shoved him against the next building. “Where did you get that fucking watch?”
    He quivered, and once I got a closer look, I realized it wasn’t my watch.
    Vic and Kyle dashed after me.
    I released the man. “Sorry. My mistake.”
    Vic stood in my personal space and made strong eye contact. “Pat, we’ll find her.”
    I backed away from them, and started back into town.
    If she were still alive, I would find her. Annie had survived this long. I just prayed she wouldn’t give up, because I would search every corner of this earth until I found her.
    “I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity.”
     
     

7.
     
    We sat around in the yacht and hatched a plan over beer and pizza. I had two weeks to find her. Two weeks until we were due back on our carrier where we would deploy to the Middle East. By then she would be lost forever. And so would I. There was no more room for errors.
    Kyle always tried to take charge. “It’s easy. Let’s just go and ask