Page 96 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest

“So why did you burn it all up?” the squad leader asked. Both he and the Cuban had served in their respective militaries.

“To save my life.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Varik rolled onto his back, his face pinched with pain.

“Your boss will be angry with you if he finds out the stupid thing you did.”

“If I don’t carry out my orders, he will kill me worse than I plan on killing you.” The squad leader pulled his rifle and pressed the barrel against Varik’s crotch. “Tell me why I shouldn’t ruin you now.”

Varik fought back a smile. The man’s hesitation meant he’d found a toehold. Now to make the climb.

“Do you have any idea what was on those hard drives? That laptop?”

“Do I look like a computer scientist to you?”

“What I know is worth billions. Offshore bank accounts, gold vaults, even Bitcoin wallets—to name just a few. More important, I can provide all the information your boss needs to destroy his enemies…locations, secret crimes, betrayals, perversions, government snitches. I’ve got it all. But if you kill me now”—Varik touched the side of his head—“it all dies with me. What would your boss say about that?”

The squad leader smiled. “How will he know what you’ve just told me? Like you said, your secrets die with you.” He raised the barrel of the gun and placed the muzzle on Varik’s forehead. But Varik didn’t flinch.

“True, but what do you think that kind of information is worth to him? And more important, how greatly will he reward you if you bring me to him—alive, and full of all of this valuable information? Isn’t that what a good soldier does? Improvise? Adapt? Every boss is looking for that kind of initiative.”

“You can’t memorize all of that stuff.”

“I didn’t have to. I only needed to memorize one passcode that gives me access to a remote server that contains all of that information—and more.”

“You’re right. I should take the initiative. Maybe I’ll cut off your eyelids, or better yet, dip your face in a vat of acid until you give me your passcode and anything else I’ll need.”

“Of course you can. Do whatever horrible thing you need to. And when I’m in abject pain and screaming in agony, I’ll give you that passcode, no doubt. The only problem is this: if I’m wrong about just one number or letter or symbol…or even if I just get one of them out oforder, the server will automatically erase itself and you’ll get nothing. What will your boss think of that?”

“Maybe he’ll never know.”

The Mexican grinned as his finger tightened on the trigger.

Varik closed his eyes and drew in his final breath, his gambit failed.

The squad leader laughed as he pulled his weapon aside and turned to the Cuban. “Tie him up.” He turned to the other man, a squat Guatemalan. “Find what you can, and grab it—fast. We leave in ten minutes.”

“Jefe, it’s been a long march,” the Cuban said. “What’s the hurry? Can’t we spend the night here and head out first thing?”

The squad leader squared up. He wasn’t used to anyone challenging his commands. But the Cuban was a good fighter and had earned his respect.

“Our orders are clear. In and out as quickly as possible.”

“At least let me grab whatever food and water thispendejohas. The men are exhausted.” They had broken camp with little preparation under orders to proceed immediately.

“Ten minutes. Then we go.”

“Yes, sir.” The Cuban reached down, grabbed Varik by the collar, and yanked him to his feet.

“You may have bought yourself some time,pridurok. But I wouldn’t trade places with you for all the money in the world.”

Varik nodded weakly, fighting back tears, but glad to still be breathing.

Where are the Americans?

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