Noah didn’t take his eyes off the horizon. “Mayday went out on an open frequency. Anyone listening would’ve heard it.” The weight of that realization settled like a stone in their chests. What had been a technical emergency was turning into something far worse.
“We need to move,” Noah said sharply. “Engines on. We’re not sitting ducks.” Jamie scrambled back to his seat. “We can’t fly.” “No,” Noah agreed. “But we can sail.” He pushed the throttles forward. The seaplane responded slowly, lumbering through the water like a wounded whale.