Eames had found himself living on a secluded seashore, in a rather modest shanty, for quite about a month now. He was preparing for an undercover job that would require he know how to sail and that was what he had been teaching himself to do, but today he was out in a little skiff of a boat, rowing past the sand bar and dropped anchor.

He enjoyed the ocean, definitely, but most curiously he had seen a few flashes of something unexplainable in the waves every once and again when he'd been out sailing. Today he was just keeping watch of the gentle waves around him, one arm draped over the side of his boat so his hand was touching the water.