The Minoan Cipher (A Matinicus “Matt” Hawkins Adventure Book 2) by Paul Kemprecos

before the drinking began. “I’ll be damned,” Hayes muttered.
    The caller ID photo was a picture of a much younger Hawkins and Hayes from their Navy SEAL days. Hayes hadn’t started shaving his scalp back then, and both men sported buzz cuts. They had grins on their faces and matching camo do-rags around their heads. The sun-blasted skin on Hawkins’s face was almost as dark as Calvin’s natural dark brown complexion.
    He hit the call button. Hawkins answered immediately.
     
    “Hi, Calvin. How’re you doing?” Hawkins said.
    “Havin’ more fun than a crawfish swimmin’ in a bowl of gumbo, Hawk. Just finished up an air boat race with a gator hunter.”
    “How’d you make out?”
    “Came in second place. Course, there were only two of us. Nice to hear your voice. Get your emails from time to time, but it’s been awhile since we talked.”
    “Glad we could connect. Figured you might be busy fighting Somali pirates.”
    “Secure Ocean Services is changing our business model. Still keeping the pressure on the pirates with our on-board teams, but we’re more into systems now. Port security, figuring out where the leaks are, putting personnel to stop them. Phasing out the cowboy stuff.”
    “Does that mean they’re phasing out the cowboys?”
    “Got that right, pal. I’m still majority stockholder. The directors pretty much run the show. That’s why I got time to go bayou racing with my pal Junior.”
    “Junior?”
    “Cajun guy. Gator hunter who made a killin’ on reality TV. Drives an old pick-up, but that’s for show. Lives in a trophy house and got a couple of Bentleys in his garage.”
    “What are you driving, Cal?”
    “Ford pick-up.” He paused. “And a Bentley Cabrio convert in the garage of my trophy house. Does two-hundred plus, but it can’t pass a gas station. You still designing those Jules Verne gadgets at Woods Hole?”
    “Taking a break from the scientific stuff, actually. I’m in Spain on a shipwreck expedition.”
    “Nothin’ wrong with that,” Calvin said.
    “Actually, old pal, there’s a lot wrong with it. You got a minute?”
    “Hold on.” Hayes went inside the shack which was filled with the succulent fragrance of boiling crawfish. He told Junior to go ahead without him.
    He put a bottle of Dixie beer on the tab and walked out to a bench on the end of the fuel dock. “Okay, Hawk. What’s got you riled up?”
    “It’s a complicated story. I’ll give you the CliffsNotes version.”
    Hawkins told him about Kalliste and the invitation to survey what could be a history-making shipwreck. Calvin set his beer aside and listened intently as Hawkins laid out the details of the attack and sinking.
    Calvin had an encyclopedic knowledge of weaponry. “From what you said, it sounds like you got hit by Spike missiles. Anything bigger could have sent you to the bottom with one shot.”
    “I’ve been out of the war game. Not familiar with the brand.”
    “Developed to slow down swarm-type attacks. Couple of feet long and a few inches wide. Highly portable. They pack a heck of a wallop, but nothing like the big hardware that’s available. Interesting what you said about a missile blowing up the guy on deck.”
    “What’s your take on that?”
    “Coulda been intentional. Spikes are pretty accurate. He never knew what hit him. Still a tough way to go.”
    “It probably saved my ass. The captain and his son had time to get a life boat in the water.”
    “Glad you’re all okay. Where do you go from here?”
    “I want to see if my submersible is salvageable. I’ll need someone to ride shotgun.”
    “I’m in. If I can scare up an executive jet, I’ll be there tomorrow.”
    “Abby’s company always has planes in the air. That’s how I got over here.”
    “Good idea. I’ll give her a call.”
    “Thanks, Cal. I knew I could count on you. I’m staying at the Hotel Cadiz. One more favor. I’m wondering if you can pick something up for me on the way.”
    Hayes listened