Carson loved to help me at the helm. He would sit up in the window and talk to me for an hour at a time. We talked about Sponge Bob Square pants, we sang some silly kids songs that he had learned, and he drew some pictures for me on some typing paper. Carson was enjoying the man to man attention. I hoped he did get his father back.A little over twenty-four hours after we had left Sicily, we were docking at the exclusive yacht club outside of Rome. The place was full of uniformed attendants that were almost a pain in the butt, because they were supposed to constantly offer assistance to members and paying guests.Missy was more than excited. She was ready to run off the boat to begin exploring the ancient city. Since it was noon, I suggested we check out the restaurant and what was available for tours. While we were up on deck, a group of uniformed attendants came to the boat with buckets and scrubbing brooms. Part of our fees covered the thorough scrubbing of the deck, so we locked up. Ricky lead us away from the river and into the shadows. We walked in silence stopping every few yards to peer into the woods ahead of us and listen for any noise a base camp would make. After some time Ricky stopped and pointed to his eyes with two fingers and then at the shadows ahead. He had seen something ahead. We froze in our tracks and waited as he lay down his bow and signaled us to stay put. He disappeared in front of the two men between us and crawled forward to meet the obstruction.I thought this was an excellent time to put my gift to use. I stepped off the trail the others occupied and moved into the brushy darkness with the quickness and stealth of the nocturnal hunter I had become. I saw what no man could see in the near pitch blackness around us.Ricky was almost onto the man smoking a cigarette in the edge of the clearing ahead when I reached around the cedar tree twenty yards away and pulled the second unseen sentry into the scrub. He didn't make a noise as I clamped a.
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