“You know damn well that what we just looked at wasn’t caused by any rogue wave and nor was it caused by a shipment of strong acids. Someone’s been moving something they shouldn’t have and that means they’ve been covering it up. And I think I just realized how we might find out who.”
Veyron called Donald and explained what he wanted to see. Told him that he would be back on board the wrecked Global Star within the hour.
Sam turned the corner and smiled. It was a warm day outside, and he was finally getting somewhere. He was glad to see Veyron finally coming closer to an answer. “What have you found?”
“It was the CCTV camera that followed us when we entered the workshop.”
“So what?”
“The Global Star is rigged with more than a hundred cameras specifically designed to ensure its crew aren’t stealing from your father, smuggling narcotics or transporting other contraband aboard,” Veyron explained. “I noticed a series of CCTV cameras on board the Global Star tracking us while we examined her hull yesterday.”
“You want to see the recordings of the event?”
“That’s if there even was a rogue wave.”
“You still don’t believe it?”
“Not for a minute. I think someone has tried to smuggle something aboard. Or that the Captain was taking on illegal equipment. Even some type of weapon — something capable of working its way through metal. New technologies. Something that broke out or leaked and destroyed the ship.”
“You’re starting to believe in this whole genetically modified plankton theory?”
“No way, whatever it is, I can promise you it has nothing to do with plankton and its stupid eerie phosphorescent light!”
Sam parked the pickup and began eagerly climbing the several flights of steel stairs towards the bridge. Veyron whistled happily to himself as he ran his hand along the steel railings which had similar damage as the hull but nowhere near as extensive. It reminded Sam of those odd medical examiners on TV who hum while performing an autopsy.
Veyron continued up the stairs. Despite his solid frame, the man never appeared out of breath. “It’s the security footage I’m interested in.”
“You think the whole thing was caused by sabotage?”
“No. Although I haven’t ruled that out, either.” Veyron climbed another set of ten steps and then ran his hand along another melted bulkhead. “Whatever caused this type of damage to the steel, I can promise you it wasn’t saltwater — or phosphorescent plankton for that matter!”
“No, of course not.”
“So I asked Donald to meet me up there to go over the security footage from the hold. I’m betting you someone took on some additional cargo that your father’s not aware of. Whatever that cargo was, it made a hell of a mess out of his steel in the ship.”
“One thing’s for certain. The phosphorescent plankton has never hurt anyone.”
Sam reached for the handle to the door that led to the five-stories high command bridge at the aft section of the Global Star. His hand never reached it. Instead, the door flung open and Donald hurried out to greet them.
He looked excited and out of breath. “Great, you’re here. You’ll never believe what I’ve just seen on the CCTV footage!”
“What?” Sam and Veyron asked in unison.
“That creepy fucking plankton tried to murder Juan Gonzales!”
Chapter Forty Eight
“I thought you weren’t a believer, Donald?” Sam was quick to remind him that he thought all the Mexican workers were paranoid and superstitious.
Donald tucked his thumbs into his belt. Smiled at him like he was an idiot. Then in his slow southern drawl, replied, “I began checking on the CCTV footage of the cargo hold. They were a massive shipment of European cars coming from Germany — like Captain Miller’s logbooks show. Then I looked through some of the other areas of the ship. The engine room, bilge compartments, etc. Anywhere that someone might hide tons of hard acids.”
“And what did you see?” Veyron asked.
“Nothing. They all looked empty, as they were supposed to. But then it got me thinking…”
“Go on,” Veyron said.
“So then I thought to myself — if the constant CCTV has been running since the ship left Port Hamburg, Germany — then…”
“Go on. What did you find!” Sam said.
“Then I thought it might have captured what happened to Juan — you know the welder who I said fell into the bilge?”
Donald pressed play so they could watch the CCTV and make up their own mind about whether or not the worker was attacked.
The CCTV recording showed the scrapyard’s worker preparing to start a diesel motor. He was about to pump the remaining seawater out of the hull. He finished drilling a hole in the side of the hull, then fed a pipe into the bilge water and attached it to the diesel pump. He then ran the other end of a second hose from the pump out the hole.
It wasn’t until the worker went to switch the pump on that anything unusual happened. The bilge water started to swell until it flooded the steel grate that he was standing on. A small ripple of green iridescent liquid oozed from the bilge and slid onto the grate where the Mexican worker was now trying to start the pump.
It reached his feet where he stood.
A moment later he slipped and fell into the bilge water. Terrified the man scrambled out of the bilge. Climbed the ladder and ran out of the room.
Donald stopped the video. “Nothing else happens after that. Juan never returned to his work.” He then turned to them both. “Well. What do you make of that? Thought you’d seen it all, hadn’t you?”
Sam shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me, but if I didn’t know better I’d say that plankton just stopped your man from pumping them out.”
“It certainly looks like he was attacked.”
“I don’t know what the connection is, but I’d say it’s pretty obvious that this plankton is behind it somehow.”
“There’s no doubt about it, Sam — those fuckers just tried to kill the man.”
“The question is why?”
“No, we know that he was going to pump them out into the dry dock which would have killed them. The real question is how?”
“Yeah, well until we find a live sample, we’re going to have no way to prove it either way. One thing’s for certain. This was no random accident, and that means neither were the rogue waves. We don’t know whose causing them. Or why. Or when the next one is going to take place. But we do know there’s only one place they can form, so we’d better do something to stop it.”
“Or prepare to hear about the next disaster.”
Chapter Forty Nine
Tom had waited a frustrating eight hours for his residual nitrogen levels to settle. He eagerly prepared his dive equipment so that he could return to the ancient trimaran. The gold was still down there. He was certain of it. And hoped that he’d find it before he had to explain to Sam that he just lost a small fortune worth of gold at the bottom of the sea. Also, he wanted to find out more about the ancient trimaran. He still had a swathe of unanswered questions.
Who were the Antiqui Nautae?
Where did they come from?
Matthew entered the dive room. “It will be getting dark soon. I’d prefer you to wait until the morning. It’s safer.”
“We’re diving a wreck at a hundred and sixty feet. It’s always dark,” Tom replied.
Matthew smiled condescendingly. “And there are little green men who live there to contend with.”
“I never said there were men, just one — and I have no idea where it lives. Besides, I already admitted that the pleasant green apparition must have been a figment of my imagination.” He looked at Genevieve. “I want to go find that gold before another green man takes it; are you still happy to join me?”