BOOK I: SHIP OF DREAMS

The woman brushed the wispy copper hair from her eyes, pulling her coat tightly against herself. Pressing the microphone against her lips, she spoke loudly, trying to counteract the wintry howls of the Canadian winds.

"This is Tracy Hunt reporting live for CNN. On today's agenda is the story of treasure hunter Brock Karev. He is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck… the Titanic. As we speak, I am at a seaport in Newfoundland, Canada; which is just 400 miles from where the Titanic sank. Brock Karev is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic… Hello Brock?"

"Yes, Hi, Tracy. You know, Titanic is not just A shipwreck, Titanic is The shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks," Brock announced grandly.

With her walker in hand, Calliope Robbins waddled over to the couch, carefully easing herself onto the sofa. Switching on the morning news, her mesmerized eyes glazed over, as CNN dredged up a whirlwind of bittersweet memories. God, how she missed Arizona. With every fiber, every fiber of her wizened soul.

"I've planned this expedition for three years, and we're out here recovering some amazing things… things that will have enormous historical and educational value," Brock Karev announced.

Tracy Hunt smiled wanly, "But it's no secret that education is not your main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you're hunting?"

Brock leaned in confidentially, "I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to just that."

Captivated by the news report, Callie turned to her granddaughter, "Lizzy sweetheart, could you turn that up please?"

"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber," the redheaded reporter accused.

Brock scowled, "Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today…"

The camera panned off Brock, focusing instead, on a tray of water containing a drawing of a beautiful young woman. Callie gasped with shock, almost falling off the couch. Her granddaughter, grasped her arm, steadying her. "Careful now, Grammy!"

"… A piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years… and my team are able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see it and enjoy it now…?" Brock argued passionately.

"I'll be Goddamned," Callie whispered.

Brock scowled at the picture. "Stupid 84 year old Erotic Drawing," he grumbled.

He stared at it with a confusing mixture of disappointment and lust. It was a dainty soft-pencil sketch of a beautiful young voluptuous Hispanic woman with caramel skin, alluring dark deep-set eyes, plump rose-petal lips, and a thick mane of shiny raven hair. She lay naked and vulnerable, her lips curled upwards at one corner in an inviting smile. Both arms were raised above her head, filling the image with unspoken come-hither desire.

The highlight of the sketch was the prize which lay between the silky smooth curves of her bare bosom. The Heart of the Ocean.

Brock sighed grouchily, moping over the team's utterly useless discovery. After years of scouring the corners of the ocean, and finally dragging the heavy black Safe from its watery grave, all he had to show for it was some early-20th century Porno Picture! Beautiful as she was, this probably-now-dead woman was not going to render Brock Karev a millionaire.

"There's a satellite call for you, some old ma'am wants a word with you," Bobby O'Malley said, snapping Brock out of his private reverie.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Brock muttered sarcastically.

"Trust me, you want to take this call," Bobby O'Malley emphasised. Brock took the phone from Bobby, raising his eyebrows at the nervous young man's urgent tone.

"This is Brock Karev. What can I do for you, Mrs…"

"Calliope Iphegenia Robbins," the voice greeted.

"… Calliope Iphe-what?!" Brock demanded rudely.

"I was just wondering if you had found the Heart of the Ocean yet, Mr. Karev." The elderly lady asked, with a touch of mystery and intrigue in her voice.

Stunned and bewildered, Brock choked on his coffee, spilling some of it into the tray of Ye-Old Porno sketch. "Shit!" he muttered, hastily soaking up the whirlpool of coffee, with the sleeve of his shirt. The phone slipped his grasp. Quickly fumbling for it, he shoved it against his ear.

"Hullo, hullo, you still there?!" he asked breathlessly.

Callie laughed airily, "I'm still here, Mr. Karev. Do calm yourself."

Brock forced himself into a quick recovery, "Alright. You have my attention, Calliope. Can you tell me who the woman in the picture is?"

"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me."

My Heart will go on - Celine Dion

You're here, there's nothing I fear

And I know that my heart will go on

We'll stay forever this way

You are safe in my heart and

My heart will go on and on

A/N: Review, fav, follow if you'd like me to continue :)