His Obsession
“The sun was setting on the horizon, turning the sea purple. We were sailing with purpose now, but I was still in a stupor. I couldn't have told you how long we'd been at sea, but I knew it had been a while. Sometimes the motors had cut out entirely and we drifted, but I knew we needed to get more fuel soon, or be in trouble.
"Where are we going to get it?" I asked.
Malcolm stood at the railing. We were on the highest deck, and he leaned back against it. His hair had bleached out almost white, and his face had tanned to a rich golden-brown. His fine linen shirt hung open, fluttering in the breeze over his white linen pants. He was barefoot. He looked more like an underwear model than a troubled billionaire, but the lines around his eyes that only I knew about gave him away. "I doubt we are going to even have a chance to land," he told me. "We're off the coast of Turkey and the captain has been in radio contact with the police on the land." I raised my eyebrows.
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