Sea of Greed

For a moment, everything went quiet. Then Tessa’s voice returned. “As you pointed out, they’re looking for the Minerve already. And since finding sunken wrecks is something of a specialty for them, I imagine they will discover it quite soon.”

“And how exactly does that help us?” the man asked. “Even if they find it, they’ll put a wall of ships around it. We’d need an armada to get through.”

“They will,” Tessa acknowledged. “But not instantaneously. There will be a brief window of time, a gap, in between the moment of discovery and the arrival of any support ships. We’ll make our move while that window is open, descending upon them from the heavens like an angry angel and taking what’s rightfully ours.”

The words lingered in the air. When the man spoke again, his tone had changed.

“They do the work, we take the prize,” he said. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Good thing you didn’t manage to kill Austin since he’s suddenly our only hope.”

“We’ll kill him once he’s found what we’re after,” she said. “For now, we need to move closer to where they’re searching. That way we’ll be able to react the instant they find something.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to put some distance between us and Buran either.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“I’ll get the plane fueled and bring the drones and the men back,” he said. “But what about Zavala and the Kashmir woman?”

“I’ll tell Buran there are a couple of traitors running loose who might upset the table for all of us. He’ll send people out with orders to kill them on sight. He might even enjoy taking his anger out on them, but they’ll die here in Kazakhstan, one way or another. Now, let’s move.”

Nothing else was said and the transmitter shut down after recording footsteps moving away.

Joe and Priya exchanged glances.

“I’ve put Kurt, Paul and Gamay in terrible danger,” she said. “I should have never given in, no matter what they threatened.”

“They would have tortured us until you gave in,” Joe said. “By letting them win up front, we kept ourselves from being broken. And put ourselves in a position where we can still be of use.”

“How?” she asked.

“By warning them,” Joe said. “Can you redesign it to broadcast in a shortwave band?”

“It’ll add some time to the project,” she said.

“We don’t have much choice,” Joe said. “We’re not going to get any help around here.”

Priya nodded. “I better get to work. Shortwaves propagate in the deep of night.”

“Good,” Joe said. “And I’ll help however I can until dark. After that, I’m sneaking back onto the Monarch, where I can sabotage it. With a little hard work, I can keep it on the ground for days.”

60

NUMA VESSEL GRYPHON

KURT WAS ALONE at the helm, lit up by the glow of computer controls, as he piloted the craft westward through the night. A makeshift panel covered the shattered window and the remaining armor had been slid back into position.

It was past midnight when the radar display indicated another helicopter coming in. This time, it was expected. Kurt picked up the microphone, dialed up the NUMA frequency and spoke. “That you, Rudi? Or should I call Paul and Gamay to battle stations?”

“I’d rather not get shot down tonight,” Rudi said. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Permission granted,” Kurt said. “Let me find a spot to park.”

“No need,” Rudi said. “I’m still young enough to slide down a cable.”