“Try hailing them,” Noah said, already knowing it was pointless. Jamie grabbed the mic. “Unidentified vessels approaching Gulf Seaway 5-9, please respond. This is a disabled seaplane, we are in need of assistance.”
Silence. Noah reached for the binoculars. “They’re not Coast Guard.” Jamie turned slowly back toward the window. “Then… who are they?” Noah lowered the binoculars. His voice was flat. “Pirates.” Jamie panicked, “How the hell did they know we were out here?”