Page 43 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

Juan caught sight of Max’s beefy arms semaphoring from the main deck high above the water and he returned his own jaunty salute from down below. TheOregondidn’t bother dropping anchor; it held itsposition with its array of thrusters, its purring engines quietly sucking in the free electricity offered by the sea.

The sound of the boat garage door rolling open rippled across the water. Seconds later, two roaring Jet Skis came flying off the interior ramp. They hit the water with a splash, their high-revving engines rooster-tailing water behind them as they raced toward Juan’s position.

Cabrillo recognized the golden-blond hair of Marion MacDougal “MacD” Lawless waving in the breeze on the lead Jet Ski. Juan chuckled. MacD would make riding a lawn mower look cool. The former Army Ranger could have parlayed his devastating good looks into a career as a Hollywood hunk. Instead, he chose to serve his country as one of the nation’s elite Special Forces operators before joining theOregoncrew. Few women could turn their eyes away from the sculptured Adonis and his honeyed Creole accent could melt a block of chromium.

Racing right behind him was Eddie Seng. In contrast to the beefy Cajun with his flowing golden mane, the wiry Chinese American wore his hair “high and tight” Marine Corps style. Eddie was a former CIA undercover operative like Juan who had served in Marine Recon before joining the Corporation. The New York City native was a martial arts master, but Eddie’s primary skill set was combat team leadership, which was why Juan named him director of shore operations.

Both Jet Skis slowed to a stop before their engines had even reached maximum rpms.

“You gave us thefrissons,mon ami,” MacD yelled over his rumbling engine. “You good to go?”

Juan tossed him a weary smile. “Could use a hand.”

Eddie reached down with his cabled arm and hauled Cabrillo out of the water. Significantly smaller than the other two men, Eddie was preternaturally strong. Anyone foolish enough to call him Bruce Lee to his face quickly found themselves on their backs in a choke hold and taking a sudden nap that ended in a skull-pounding headache when they finally awoke.

“Ready, boss?” Eddie asked.

“Avanti,” Juan said.

Eddie gunned the throttle and off they flew.

?

Aboard theOregon

Callie stood in the boat garage doorway next to Linda Ross and Dr. Julia Huxley. At five foot three, “Hux” was one of the more diminutive women on board theOregonand also one of the most attractive.

The crew of theOregonwas entirely professional in that regard, but Hux had never cared for the unwanted attention she often got from men during her Navy career. The former chief medical officer of the San Diego Naval Base wore her thick dark hair in a perpetual ponytail, flattened her soft brown eyes with government-issue glasses, and hid her curvaceous figure beneath her daily uniform of baggy hospital scrubs and a lab coat.

A senior deckhand swung the lift arm out of the boat garage and over the sea as the two Jet Skis thundered to a halt just inches from the hull. The deckhand lowered the lifting cables for MacD to attach to the eyebolts on either end of his Jet Ski as Juan climbed up the ladder.

“I didn’t know you made house calls, Doc,” Juan said as he steadied himself on the deck.

“I don’t. I just came down here to fetch you back to the clinic.” Huxley frowned. “By the looks of you, I’d better call for a stretcher.”

Juan waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine. A trip to the galley would suit me better.”

“You gave us another start,” Linda said. “When the plane broke apart we assumed the worst.”

“Somebody blew that plane out of the sky,” Cabrillo said as he fished his busted phone out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Ross. Water poured out of its cracked case.

“I hope it blew upafteryou jumped,” Callie said.

Juan grinned. “Technically, yes. Speaking of which, you obviouslymet Hux.” He had to raise his voice over the surging electric winch lifting MacD’s Jet Ski out of the water.

“Deflection is the highest form of childishness,” Hux said. “Let’s get you to the clinic.”

“I really like her,” Callie said, smiling at Huxley. “She doesn’t mess around.”

“That’s her angry-mommy voice,” Juan said. “She normally saves that for the clinic.”

Hux stepped closer to Cabrillo and lightly held his chin in her fingers. She gently turned his head and studied the massive bruise on the side of his face.

“Nasty contusion. Slight edema. You crash into a brick wall?”

“The other way around.”

“Let me see your eyes.”