Page 152 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest

The death of Dr.Bose and the loss of theBaktunkept AGI out of China’s hands, which was to Cabrillo’s credit. The denial of the same to the American AGI program was counted against him. But Cabrillo’s rescue of the young Thai neurobiologist and her treasure trove of Project Q materials, along with dozens of other surviving techs, ultimately put him in good stead with both Overholt and the federal government.

What still perplexed everyone was the question of the Hwasong-17. Who had hijacked the Korean ICBM and, more important, used it todestroy theBaktun? The Russians? The Iranians? The American intelligence community was in a lather. It was a problem Cabrillo couldn’t be bothered with.

Besides Project Q, theOregonhad completed all of her other assignments.

First, thanks to Linc and Raven’s indomitable efforts to find the base, the Quds Force threat had been eliminated by a combined American-Israeli off-the-books operation. The predawn raid by a mixed unit of Delta Force and Sayeret Matkal operators began with jamming the Iranians’ comms. As they approached the camp by foot, snipers took out sentries with suppressed, subsonic rounds before the rest of the team swarmed in silently, tossing grenades into the command tent and cutting loose with automatic fire on the rest of the compound. Within minutes, the entire Quds Force had been either captured or killed, the survivors frog-marched out of the jungle and into waiting Black Hawk helicopters several miles away.

The elimination of the Quds Force unit was a real coup. An active Iranian special forces outfit would have given the ayatollahs an important strategic foothold in Latin America. Besides the fact they could have been used to cross over into the U.S. to engage in terrorist acts, the Quds Force would have bolstered anti-American regimes like Nicaragua, Cuba, and Venezuela. The Iranians could have also joined forces with Hezbollah or other terrorist organizations operating in the region. All of those ambitions died with the destruction of the smoldering Quds Force camp.

Next, the demon ship mystery had concluded with the sinking of theBaktun. And finally, President Olmedo was not only alive but had formally broken ties with the Chinese government and was now counted as America’s most important ally in Central America.

“Just another day on the job,” Juan told Overholt. “All that’s left to do is cash your checks.”

Overholt gladly transferred Cabrillo’s customary fees along with a hefty reimbursement for a long list of itemized expenses. The windfall profits would be divided proportionately among the crew as active shareholders in the Corporation.

The vacation island arrival was uneventful and the weather was heaven-sent. By the third day, the crew had feasted, played, and partied like well-mannered pirates. The tightly bonded ship grew even closer under the sunny Caribbean sky and the windy, starlit nights. The crew all worked hard, fought valiantly, and served selflessly. Cabrillo believed they deserved every sun-kissed moment of rest and relaxation.

He didn’t mind putting his own toes in the sand, either.

?

It was late morning on the fourth day of their vacation island sojourn. Cabrillo rocked gently in a hammock strung between two palm trees rereading one of his favorite Louis L’Amour novels,The Walking Drum. Unlike L’Amour’s classic Westerns, this was the swashbuckling epic of an adventurous warrior-scholar set in the turbulent worlds of the twelfth century. In other words, right up Juan’s alley.

Cabrillo was making the last stand with Kerbouchard against the Petchenegs in the novel when his phone vibrated. He grunted, irritated by the interruption of a great read. He’d told the rest of his crew to stay off the electronic stuff unless absolutely necessary. The whole point of a private island, he’d told them, was privacy.Social media only invited a world of troubles into their idyllic island paradise.

But with a crew as large as theOregon’s, Juan knew he needed to be available to them, especially when he wasn’t on board the ship. He picked up the phone. The caller ID read “Unknown,” which was odd. He thought about dismissing it, but chances were that some federal agency yahoo working a government desk needed to follow up with him about recent events.

“Cabrillo here.”

There was silence on the other end. Then adingas a video file popped onto his text messenger. He opened it.

His heart sank.

Two nuns dressed in habits were handcuffed by their wrists and ankles to a large crucifix inside a brightly lit cave. They were obviously alive but in great discomfort.

A young nun faced the camera, struggling to keep her composure. Cabrillo couldn’t see the other nun’s face. She was chained on the opposite side facing the back wall of the cave.

The video read “Live” in the left-hand corner of his smartphone window. Juan leaped out of his hammock.

A large man limped into the camera frame, holding a flamethrower in his hands and carrying a napalm pack on his back. He was clearly struggling as if he had been injured.

The nuns squirmed, but didn’t cry out. Cabrillo saw the young nun’s faith in her stoic demeanor.

The man turned and approached the camera until his face filled the frame.

“Recognize me, Cabrillo?”

“You’re the puke that tried to kill President Olmedo.”

The man darkened. “Olmedo got lucky.”

“So did you, apparently. My drone operator put a couple of bullets in you. You should be dead.”

“You can’t kill a ghost.”

“I’m happy to try again.”

“We met before once, Cabrillo. Many years ago.”