Chapter 20 - The Unbroken LineOn a quiet afternoon in late May, a small wooden fishing boat pulled out from a quiet marina in Annapolis, heading out into the calm, open waters of the Chesapeake Bay.
At the wheel stood Michael Carter, dressed in a simple windbreaker, his grey hair catch in the salt breeze. Sitting on the deck beside him was Callahan, wearing civilian clothes for the first time in forty years.
In the distance, the white sails of the naval academy drill cutters dotted the bay as young midshipmen practiced their seamanship under the eye of their instructors.
Michael looked out across the water, pulling back his left sleeve slightly to check the rigging line. The faded Ghost Trident tattoo sat pale against his skin, split by the old surgical scar, but no longer a mark of exile or secret shame.
“Where to now, Captain?” Callahan asked, leaning against the gunwale with a smile.
Michael looked toward the open ocean beyond the bay bridge, where the deep waters stretched out toward the Pacific.
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“Out past the channel, Richard,” Michael said, opening the throttle as the diesel engine hummed to life. “Out where the water is deep and clear.”
The small boat carved a clean white wake through the blue water, moving forward into the quiet light of a bright, endless afternoon.
