Well, my children and I were sick for a few days, which gave me some extra time to write, so... hooray? Anyway, I should have the last of OTSG out before long, and I'm looking forward to being able to work more steadily on this, as well as maybe even get some one shots out!

Cassie furrowed her brows as she studied the satellite image on Ian's laptop, then glanced over at the map from Solange's father which she held pinned to her right knee to keep it from blowing away in the wind. Though the morning was warm, the spring breeze whipping through the open-topped jeep raised goosebumps on her legs under her khaki shorts and made the sweat that had previously begun to dampen her light pink tank top feel cool against her skin. A bump in the sand bounced her and the other three occupants of the vehicle off their seats, and Cassie looked up, frowning with concentration as she worked to stay oriented to their position on the empty beach they were driving down. "Right there, Charlie," she announced suddenly, pointing to a bend up ahead. "Stop right up there."

The jeep slowed and then stopped near the place she had indicated, and the four treasure hunters turned to look out over the gleaming ocean. Stretching out in almost every direction as far as the eye could see, the Caribbean Sea sparkled in the early morning sunlight, unbroken except for a few ridges where the ruins of the old pirate city of Port Royal were visible above the water. These low, geometric lines stood in stark contrast to the pristine tranquility of the water, while hinting at the destruction that had happened over three centuries before.

"Not a lot to go on, now, is there?" Charlie observed dryly. He reached for his thermos of coffee, unscrewed the lid, and then pulled a silver flask from the glove box and tipped a splash of rum into the hot beverage before taking a healthy swig.

"No, indeed," Solange remarked, idly twirling a lock of dark auburn hair around the end of her finger. "And what is here is going to involve going for a swim, looks like." She pursed her lips and frowned. "Did we bring any diving gear with us, Foster dear?"

Ian put his arm up on the armrest and stared toward the ocean before turning and giving an ironic smile. "I, uh- guess I didn't think that far ahead..." His chocolate eyes flashed over at Cassie, who grinned. Then he directed a frown at Charlie, who was sipping his Jamaican coffee with a self-satisfied look on his face. "You know, I'm pretty sure that drinking alcohol first thing in the morning is not a healthy way to start the day."

Cutter shrugged nonchalantly, emphasizing his lack of concern with another large gulp. "I don't have to live forever," he grunted. "I just 'ave to outlive Samuel."

Ian gave a bemused chuckle. "That bet's still on, huh?"

Cassie stared at the ruins of the once-thriving pirate paradise, and felt the familiar pull of adventure tugging at her heartstrings. "Well!" she said suddenly, flinging open the door of the jeep. "Let's at least take a look around before we get too far ahead of ourselves. Maybe there's something here that's hidden in plain sight, or another clue or something. If not, I saw a dive shop on the way over, not too far from here, that I'm sure we could rent some equipment from."

Ian smiled and opened his door to get out. "I like the way you think," he said as he joined her.

The four of them combed the beach for about a half an hour, their eyes searching the sand and the visible ruins, and even wading out into the bay a little bit to look. To no one's real surprise, and Cassie's least of all, their investigation yielded nothing of interest besides some disgruntled crustaceans. After her third run over the same pile of rubble, Cass put her hands on her hips and frowned. "No such luck, I guess." She looked over at her partners. "Must be time to go get some gear."

Cutter nodded and raised his thermos in agreement. "All in favor," he said. "We need to get on it before those old sods from last night catch up with us again." He turned to the jeep. "All aboard, yeah?"

Cass swallowed and squinted at the horizon. "Actually, Charlie, I was thinking maybe you and Solange should go in to town and me and Foster should keep looking- just in case. You know where the place is, right?"

Cutter frowned. "I saw it. But will you two be alright if Tristan's boys show up? You won't have any getaway."

Cassie picked up a stone and cast it at the ocean, and watched as it bounced three times off the surface before it sank. "I'll challenge them to a rock-skipping contest to keep them busy till you make it back." She flashed a grin at the Englishman. "We'll be fine. They probably have no idea where we are yet."

Charlie shrugged and climbed back into the driver's seat. "If you need anything, luv, I'm just a phone call away," he said as Solange settled in shotgun.

Watching the jeep rattle down the beach and away from them, Cassie added wryly, "That's... assuming you remembered to top off your minutes, of course." Smirking at her own joke, she turned back toward the ocean once Cutter and Solange were out of sight and inhaled deeply, savoring the salt air. It was then she realized Ian had been watching her, and she looked at him quizzically.

"You're not actually planning on waiting for them to get back, are you?" Foster asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cassie's eyes sparkled in the early morning sunshine. "With dive gear?" She scoffed. "Heck no! If anything Solange's been saying about the Ocelotl is true, they could be watching us now. May as well do some free diving while we wait."

Foster shrugged and nodded in agreement, casting a rueful look down at his t-shirt and jeans. "I should've worn shorts," he said dryly.

"Don't sweat it," Cassie said, already slogging into the surf. "You can just wait here- I'll let you know if I find anything." She finished wrapping her hair into a bun, pulled an elastic tie over it, and gave Ian a quick, reassuring smile before diving into the waves.

With strong, confident strokes, Cassie propelled herself through the brilliantly blue water, following the slope of the bottom and the wreckage of the old city. Around her loomed the eerie shapes of ruined buildings, broken arches, and scattered detritus that passed her by as she dove deeper and deeper, their outlines made fuzzy by centuries of lichen and seaweed. As she went, Cassie searched for any clues as to what Doctor Rodriguez could have found among the brooding remains of this once-thriving city. She paused and ran her gaze over a rusty anchor and what might have been a fragment of a mast that lay half-buried in the silt on the bottom. What kind of secrets sank along with this place? she wondered to herself as she swam to the anchor and briefly inspected it. After taking a quick look around, she decided it was time for air and began heading for the top.

"See anything?" Foster called when she had surfaced, his voice carrying to her from some distance away. Scrubbing her hands over her face to clear the water from her eyes, Cassie turned and spotted him picking through the rubble a little ways down the sand.

"Don't get your pants all up in a bunch, Foss!" Cassie called playfully. "That was my first dive!"

She could hear the quiet amusement in his voice when Ian drawled, "Alriiight..."

Cassie took a few even breaths to purge the CO2 from her lungs. "Here we go!" she said, then sucked in a deep lungful of air and plunged back under the water.

It was her fourth dive, and Cassie had worked her way farther and farther out from the shore as she explored the underwater ruins. Now, gliding gracefully through a set of stone archways that looked to have been part of a pergola, Cass emerged into a stone courtyard, or a city square, that was had once been bordered on all sides by buildings. A regal-looking lion passant sculpted in marble stood in the center of the square, its eyes like pools of darkness that watched her as she swam up to it and then turned toward the ruins off to the side.

She ghosted into the dilapidated structure, passed by the remains of a second story, and sank down to the ground level. A wood floor was evident in places where it hadn't been covered by the silt and grime off the bottom, though the earthquake and unstable foundations had made it quite warped and unlevel with time. As Cassie drifted over the worm-eaten planks, she startled a school of fish which quickly dispersed in all directions. She watched as the small creatures fled in surprise, and took note of several of them vanishing through some cracks in the building's floor.

That was interesting.

Struck with sudden inspiration, she turned and swam up to the partial second story of the building and then over to a heavy-looking grate made of iron bars that lay near the splintered edge of the decking. Working her fingers under the grate, she planted her feet and heaved it up with some difficulty until she flipped it over the side. Cassie watched as it plummeted through the murk and punched a hole straight through the boards below, disappearing into the darkness beyond. Her eyes lit up and she almost swam down to see the results, but lifting the iron grate had depleted her oxygen levels and she knew she should go for a breather. Pushing off the second floor, she ascended quickly and soon broke the surface with a gasp for air.

"Hey!" she called when she had caught her breath. "I think I found something!"

A ways down the beach, Foster turned and looked at her. "Oh yeah?" he called back. "What is it?"

"Well," Cassie said uncertainly as she tread water. "It could be a secret passage- or could just be some pirate's cellar. How lucky are we feeling today?"

There was a pause. "Lucky enough." The distance between them made it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

Brushing the wet bangs from her eyes, Cassie yelled back, "How do ya' feel about getting those jeans wet after all?"

The mischief in Ian's voice carried loud and clear as he replied, "I mean, I could just take them off."

Cass snorted and rolled her eyes, but was glad he was far enough away that she was pretty sure he couldn't see the slight blush on her face. "Just shut up and get in the water."

Ian dove in and began paddling toward her, with Cassie watching as he came nearer and nearer. When he was treading water next to her, she said, "Alright, you ready? Deep breath!"

The two of them dove beneath the sea, and Cassie led the way to the hole she had just opened in the floor of the ruined building. Pausing at the edge of it, she looked back at Ian, pointed, and gave a thumbs up to ask if he was alright to keep going. When he returned the signal, Cass stepped off the edge of the opening and sank into the gloom below.

Reaching for the submersible flashlight she had clipped to the waistband of her shorts, Cassie flicked it on to ward off the darkness as she swam forward with Ian right behind her. Though frail against the dark water around them, the beam cast still illuminated enough to see that they were now in some sort of man-made tunnel cut through the rock, leading back toward the shore. Having obviously been square at one point, the walls and ceiling were now skewed at odd and varying angles from the infamous earthquake and the residual instability of the geography. Cassie and Ian forged ahead, ducking and squeezing through partially-collapsed sections as the tunnel gradually became more organic in appearance, as if someone had built a passageway to connect to an existing cave system. As the relatively smooth and deliberate sides gave way to rough and irregular rock faces, a moment of panic washed over Cassie as she realized how dangerous what they were doing actually was. They had been far enough now that if this didn't lead to an airspace soon, she wasn't sure they would be able to make it to the surface again. Flashing a worried look at Foster, she briefly wondered if they should turn around now, but he only pointed at something ahead. When she followed his direction, she suddenly saw what he was seeing. Just a few yards away the tunnel ended, while an anomaly in the appearance of the water toward the top, shone by the beam of her flashlight, indicated a possible air gap above. With a flood of relief, Cassie kicked out and propelled herself forward the last little bit, and as she rose she noted some crude handholds cut like a ladder into the tunnel wall. She surfaced alongside Foster, both of them gasping for air, and the two treasure hunters splashed over to the side to hold on to the rocks.

As they coughed and spat out salt water, Ian observed dryly, "Well, that came at the perfect time, didn't it?"

"No kidding!" Cassie said as she hauled herself out of the water. "I was starting to get pretty worried."

They stood together on the edge of the pool- only about six feet in diameter- and took in their surroundings. Narrow but with high ceilings, the cave they found themselves in sloped upward from the water and then went out of sight around a corner. Other than a set of shallow steps carved into the slope, the damp, cool chamber seemed entirely naturally formed."Neat!" Cassie whispered as she shone her flashlight around. The pair moved cautiously, awed at the discovery but aware of the dangers that could come with it, and Cass kept her flashlight moving continually, panning it over everything ahead as they approached it.

As they rounded the corner and continued into the cavern, Ian noted casually, "You're a good swimmer."

She glanced at him. "It comes in handy from time to time."

Chuckling softly, he said, "I remember," His voice was low since the cave made even the smallest of sounds echo, and the resulting, slightly gravely tone felt soothing and to Cass. "Riding a train to the bottom of the Atlantic and then blowing a hole in the top in order to escape is one of those things that tends to stick with you."

"Heh- good times, right?" she scoffed, hoping to alleviate some of the tension she was feeling with a bit of levity. Then she added, "Swimming kinda comes with the territory when you literally grow up on the beach, though." The path brought them out onto a narrow ledge on the brink of a deep crevasse, and the two slid along it with their backs to the wall. "What about you, where'd you come from?" she asked.

A beat passed, and Ian replied almost reluctantly, "Nantucket. I swam, but the water's a bit colder up there."

"Mm. Any siblings?"

Again, his answer came less than enthusiastically. "An older sister. We're... no longer on speaking terms."

Cassie chewed her lip. "Ouch. I'm sorry," she said, deciding not to ask any more questions.

Foster shrugged. "Why be sorry? I made some bad choices, and she was upset with me for it. Stuff happens."

Back on wide ground, she looked back at him, holding his gaze for a moment as they walked. "I dunno, it just seemed like it bothers you," she said candidly. "I mean, I totally get it. My dad told me that he thought his brother was dead for, like, fifteen years. He said it was one of the hardest things for him to cope with."

Ian scratched at the stubble that was sprouting on his chin and turned his eyes to look elsewhere. "It's probably not the hardest thing that's happened to me," he said finally. "But all you can do is try to make the most of your hand, right?"

Cassie let the conversation die, not wanting to push him, and for a minute it was silent except for the occasional scraping of their shoes on the rocks and the sound of water dripping from the ceiling. "We must be under the island by now," Cassie said with a frown.

It was then that a slight twist in the tunnel brought them to a room, roughly oval in shape and obviously hewn out by man-made means. A low, oblong table made of wood occupied the center of the chamber, and was in fact the only thing in the room besides a half a dozen paintings that hung on the walls. "What in the-" Ian muttered, trailing off as he looked around.

"Is this... some kind of secret conference room or something?" Cassie asked, shining her light on one of the portraits on the wall.

"Maybe..." Foster mused. Turning to the table, he leaned forward and traced his fingertips over a design etched into its surface. "It's a Huguenot Cross," he observed.

Cassie turned in circles, looking over the sparse contents of the room. "There's nothing here," she said in disbelief. "It's a dead end!"

Foster frowned. "Maybe someone got here first. Or maybe Mr Rodriguez had some misinformation."

"H.M. has the coin," Cassie turned to a familiar portrait. "That's Henry Morgan," she said, pointing at it. "There's something we're missing here, I just know it!" Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she mumbled to herself and made vague circling motions with her hand as she wracked her brain. "Henry Morgan... Port Royal... Huguenots... The Brethren of the coast!" she declared, jabbing a finger at Ian without opening her eyes.

"Many of them were Huguenots during the first era of the brethren," Ian said, following her train of thought.

"But the Brethren was also a legitimate privateering ring at that point," Cassie added. "They only would've needed to go into hiding after the anti-piracy laws were passed and the group became criminal."

Turning to the painting of the famed privateer, Foster continued, "So who do we know that was probably a Huguenot, could've been with Morgan when he was involved with the Brethren, and also been with the group after they turned dirty?"

Revelation suddenly dawned on both of them, and in unison they turned to each other and exclaimed, "Alexandre Exquemelin!"

Cass laughed. "Of course! Supposedly he retired in 1674, but we know he later ended up back in the Caribbean under unknown circumstances, eventually being listed in the attack on Cartagena! He could have totally been running operations with the Brethren in the years between, keeping it secret for obvious reasons so he didn't end up on Gallow's Point!"

Ian nodded thoughtfully. "Still doesn't tell us anything about where to go from here, though."

Cassie's excitement at the possible breakthrough waned at remembering the immediate problem still hadn't been solved. "Oh," she said. "Right. Well, uh, let's look around some more, huh? See what we can find..."

For long, quiet minutes they scoured every inch of the plain, unassuming room, with no results other than scaring away a few creepy-crawlies from the shadows. Eventually Cassie found herself staring at a particular painting on the wall. When she first saw it, nothing stood out besides that it seemed gratuitous, even a little obscene: an old man, seated and with a piece of cloth that could passably be considered clothing draped over his lower half, was embracing a voluptuous, naked woman that sat on his lap with an indulgent expression on her face. Behind them, another nude woman filled an odd-looking goblet from a pitcher. At first Cass wrinkled her nose at the scene, but as she continued to look, trying to figure out what it was that was bugging her about it, she spotted a small detail that made her eyes widen.

"Foss, take a look at this!" she called suddenly. When he appeared at her shoulder, she continued, "What stands out to you about this painting?"

Foster cleared his throat, raised one eyebrow, and after a moment said, "You mean- besides the obvious?"

Cassie rolled her eyes, and for a moment a snarky, "Should I be jealous?" , was on the tip of her tongue. In the end, though, her insecurity about where their relationship actually stood held her back, and she simply pointed to a very small figure on the left-hand border of the painting, about halfway down. "This. A pillar of salt." She looked at him. "It's a painting of Lot and his daughters, and that's Sodom and Gomorrah in the distance."

Understanding washed over Ian's face. "No way that's a coincidence, right?"

"Not a chance!" she replied, smiling back at him. "What do you want to bet..." As she ran her fingers around the edge of the frame she felt something give just a little, like a latch. She pressed it down, and the painting suddenly swung out from the wall on a heavy oak panel, revealing an opening behind it. "Hah!" she said triumphantly. "What better way to throw the Royal Navy off your trail than to let them think they've already found you, right?"

Ian grinned. "Let's go figure out what these pirates were really up to!"

For anyone curious, since Cassie gave such a glowing review of it, the painting in question is by Lazarus van der Borcht- "Lot and his Daughters". Also, I'm a guy and don't do write romance very well, so hopefully I'm doing alright developing Cass and Ian's relationship, but if anyone has thoughts, criticisms, or suggestions- I'm all ears!