Where had the storm come from? The weather reports from Marseilles had indicated nothing if they had he would have stayed in the shelter of the coastline. They were laughing at something and that was good there had been nothing to laugh about last night. He glanced over at the open wheelhouse his younger brother was easing the throttle forward to make better time, the single other crewman checking a net several feet away.
+-+By+Robert+Ludlum.jpg "The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum")
The skipper of the small fishing boat, his eyes bloodshot, his hands marked with rope burns, sat on the stern gunwale smoking a Gauloise, grateful for the sight of the smooth sea.
The rays of the early sun broke through the mists of the eastern sky, lending glitter to the calm waters of the Mediterranean.
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