He paused stoically, thinking. “Have any of you ever read the Declaration of Independence?”
The other three looked at each other, surprised at his question.
“Uh… no.”
“In it, it says that whoever has the ability to do something… has the responsibility to do something.”
“Really?”
Clay nodded. “I’m paraphrasing. My father was obsessed with U.S. history, and that was his favorite part of the Declaration. The fifty-six men who signed it risked it all and changed the world.” He looked at them. “And now we have a chance… not just to change the world, but maybe humanity itself. Either we fight and lose, or we fight and win,” he said simply. “If we lose, the world is no different. But if we win…”
His words hung in the air, causing Lee to grin. “If we win, it will be epic!”
Clay nodded at Alison. “Epic.”
Alison gradually smiled at Clay. “Well then, I guess we’d better win.”
“We’d better win,” repeated DeeAnn. “No matter what.”
One by one they stood up. Clay last, now only barely using his crutches.
DeeAnn then straightened her clothes. “Well, we are headed to Africa. What are you going to do with Dirk and Sally?”
“Take them home,” Alison replied.
“And where is that?”
She stared at her reflection in the tank’s glass wall. Her answer was short and solemn. “Trinidad.”
25
At over eighteen hundred square miles, Trinidad was the fifth largest island in the West Indies: known as the region shared by the Caribbean Basin and North Atlantic Ocean. Named “Island of the Trinity” by Christopher Columbus in 1498, the large island was also one of the most industrialized.
Trinidad also laid claim to several facts of cultural significance, including both the inspiration for the famed character Robinson Crusoe and host to one of the largest carnivals on the planet. In the present day, the island was a beacon of progress and economic stability derived largely from its vast natural gas reserves.
On the large screen, the pipe-shaped neighboring island of Tobago moved out of view and the frame quickly panned across miles of blue water where it stopped again, on the image of the Valant oil rig. From the top, the vessel resembled a large flat structure, its deep shadow hovering above the water.
The screen briefly zoomed out, revealing the crystal-clear image of the large, white Pathfinder ship anchored nearby.
The rest of the room was dark, illuminated only by the giant screen on the wall. Around a table sat several high-ranking Russian officers, one of whom was Admiral Koskov. A junior officer stood at the head of the table, presenting with a remote mouse in his hand. Now waiting patiently for the first question.
“And this is where Belov thinks it is,” a voice stated flatly. It belonged to Russia’s Minister of Defence. The head of the country’s armed forces and second in command only to the President of the Russian Federation.
“Yes, sir.”
“And he says the Americans are hiding it.”
“Yes.” The junior officer turned to face the table and put his hands behind his back. “The oil rig is made by Transocean Limited in Geneva. The SVR has verified that it had no reported problems before it was decommissioned. Ahead of schedule. And one day after three senior U.S. government officials arrived at Transocean headquarters in the middle of the night. Chairman Admiral Langford, Defense Secretary Miller, and CIA Director Andrew Hayes.”
“They’re sure of this?”
“Yes, sir. They have also confirmed the Americans were on the premises for less than three hours before flying back to Washington D.C. The next day Transocean issued the order to decommission the Valant rig.”
“So there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“We don’t believe so.”
The defence minister suddenly raised his voice into a growl. “I don’t want to hear what you believe. I want to hear what you know.”
The junior officer glanced briefly at Koskov’s frame in the darkness, but the older man offered nothing. When the junior officer replied, his voice wavered slightly. “It would be extremely unlikely, sir.”
The minister was silent. Russian intelligence was second to no one, not even the CIA. And Belov was no fool. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight, but he wouldn’t risk being wrong either. Not this time. He of all people knew that there were worse punishments a man could face than death.
Now it seemed the billionaire Dima Belov had seen through the Americans’ deception. Which meant they would now have to keep Belov alive, at least for the time being. The man was ruthless beyond all measure, and yet he alone appeared to know what the Americans were truly hiding. But how?
Not long ago, Belov had convinced the Russian government of the magnitude of what the Chinese had first discovered in Guyana. But his intelligence tactics had also failed miserably when the Forel submarine was later destroyed.
But what if it was true? If the prize remained in play, they would be stupid to ignore it. If the prize was as powerful as Belov claimed.
And of course, the Americans had initially blamed Russia for the sinking of their research ship, until fragments proved the Chinese were behind it. The Americans quickly backed down from their accusations, but the situation underscored just how easily they would be prepared to blame Russia again.
“How many people did you say were on the rig?”
“Twelve at any given time. Several regularly travel back and forth to the ship.”
“Twelve men on an oil rig that isn’t broken,” the minister said. “Doing what?”
This time no one answered.
He stared at the image on the screen. “Trying to take the oil rig from the Americans will not be easy.”
This time a silhouette sitting next to the minister spoke up. “We see no signs of armaments or weapons.”
“Then they know they’re being watched,” the minister replied dryly. “They have to.”
Koskov nodded in the darkness. “If they claim the rig is simply undergoing repairs, it is doubtful they would send fighting ships, for fear of discovery.”
No one could see the minister’s lips press tightly together in bemusement. “They have already been discovered.”
“They don’t know that.”
The minister leaned closer, studying the screen carefully. “They accused us of destroying their ship, yet they did nothing. Now they know it was the Chinese, and still they do nothing. Perhaps,” he said, “they are more vulnerable than we know.”
“Sir?”
The minister remained quiet, thinking. Why hadn’t the Americans retaliated? Why no word out of NATO? It was more than a little odd. Especially given that governments routinely obscured facts to justify their actions in the public eye. But this felt different. This didn’t feel like it was part of the normal political playbook. There was something unique about this oil rig, and the fact it was unguarded. It reminded him of something the Americans had done in WWII to throw off the enemy. And if he was right, if they were doing it again, then the oil rig was little more than a prop. A facade allowing them to hide something in plain sight.
He spoke to Koskov without taking his eyes off the image. “How soon?”
“We can reach it in three days without being detected.”
“Until the rig is taken.”
“Yes. Once we take the vessel, by force, we will have two hours before American reinforcements arrive. Maybe less.”
“We can’t get enough ships there in time to hold it.”