Coming from a man who had played a significant role in ending the Soviet Union's bid for world domination, those last words were especially painful to hear. Juan didn't know what to say, and as of this moment wasn't sure what he was going to do.
The right thing was to keep with his plan and let the chips fall where they may. However, he had to consider what would happen to the people back home. What Overholt described would make the Great Depression sound like a boom time sixty or seventy percent unemployment, hunger and the violence it inevitably spawned, the breakdown of the rule of law. In essence, it would be the end of the United States.
He finally found his voice. Well, you don't have to worry about us. Like I told you, we're on our way to South Africa.
I guess I'm glad to hear it, Langston said wearily. You know, Juan, we still might not get out of this so easily.
What do you mean?
We can placate the Chinese, but North Korea's demanding we draw down the number of soldiers we have in the south or risk a military confrontation. And last night a small bomb went off near the Presidential Palace in Caracas. The Venezuelans are claiming it was an assassination plot perpetrated by Colombian Special Forces. They've vowed revenge, and a check of satellite imagery shows them moving troops to the border. Interestingly, they started a couple of days ago.
Which means they probably set it off themselves for a pretext.
That's my read on it, too, but it doesn't matter. China's heavily invested in Venezuela, so you can imagine our reaction if they do invade Colombia.
Thumb twiddling?
That might be seen as too provocative, Overholt said with gallows humor. We'll probably sit on our hands instead. Listen, I've got a full slate of meetings this morning. I'll talk to you later about any new developments. Give my best to the Kuwaiti Emir if we don't speak before you get there.
I'm sure we will, Juan replied.
He replaced the handset and threw off his blankets. The floor was as cold as a hockey rink, and just as slippery under Juan's woolen hunting sock. He wasn't sure who was better at playing the game. Him for lying to Overholt or Langston for trying to manipulate him. The veteran CIA minder did think that the Oregon was heading for Cape Town, but he'd told Juan about North Korea and Venezuela to get him to turn back.
Do the right thing, Juan's father had often told him. The consequences are easier to deal with, no matter what you think.
He dressed quickly and was in the op center with a cup of coffee from a silver urn on a back table. With the ship firmly grounded, Maurice had pulled out their finest Royal Doulton. It was the steward's subtle way of getting back at him for his earlier crack. If Juan recalled properly, the cup in his hand had cost seventy-five dollars.
How did Mike and his team make out? he asked. Murph and Stoney were in their customary seats toward the front of the room.
They got back at about four this morning, Eric Stone replied. He left word that it went well, but they need at least one more night. But there's a problem.
Isn't there always?
The workboat with the sonar gear went south this morning.
Juan cursed. If he could find the wreck in a submersible so quickly, it was a safe assumption that the Chinese would, too. I bet the other bay is iced over, so they're checking on the right one.
What do you want to do about it? Mark asked.
Not sure, Juan replied. We can't catch them in either of the submersibles, and if we go after them in an RHIB they might radio back to base about an unknown craft approaching them.
Hali Kasim was sitting at his customary station. He offered, So what if they find it today? All they'll be able to do is take some grainy underwater pictures. It proves nothing, and by this time tomorrow the wreck will be destroyed.
Playing devil's advocate, Eric said, if they find the wreck, who's to say they don't stay overnight? That'll mess up our schedule.
Juan felt the beginnings of a headache and rubbed his temples absently. Of course there was the other problem that he had no idea how to tackle. He'd already run his idea by Kevin Nixon, but the special-effects master said any fakes he made would be spotted in a second. It was the real deal or nothing. For their plan to work so the Argentines never suspected a thing, Cabrillo needed to find eighteen human skeletons.
The headache was morphing into a migraine.
The Silent Sea
Chapter TWENTY-SIX
WHO DO YOU LOVE MORE THAN ME? LINDA ROSS ASKED when she strode into the op center fifteen quiet minutes later. She carried a slim manila folder and a wide grin.
Megan Fox, Mark said at once.
Beyonc+!, the duty tech at damage control called out.
Katie Holmes, Hali said.
I've always had a thing for Julia Roberts, Eric added.
Chairman, Linda asked, care to be a sexist pig, too?
The only woman I love more than you is my mom.
The other men jeered him softly.
Linda smiled. Touch+!.
Remind me again why I love you so.
Because I've found that less than a hundred miles south of here is a Norwegian whaling station abandoned back in the 1930s.
We don't need whale bones.
It has been preserved as a World Heritage Site wait for it because it has a chapel with a graveyard that is the final resting place for twenty-seven whalers who'd died in these waters. You told me to find you some bones, I give you bones.
Juan was on his feet in an instant and at her side in two strides. He had to bend way over to lay a kiss on her velvety cheek. The migraine suddenly vanished, and the pall that had formed over him lifted. What had him so down was the fact that if they hadn't found a bunch of skeletons, he would have had no choice but to leave the hostages to their fate. He doubted they were going to be an Argentine priority once things heated up, so to leave them behind meant to let them die.
Chairman, I'm picking up a transmission from the Chinese workboat, Hali said, turning back to his bank of computers.
Jam it!
He worked his keyboard for a second. I've isolated the frequency. They're dead. The computer will automatically keep following them as they search for a signal up and down the dial.
Okay. Good. If they have any news to report, they'll have to go back to base. That's two problems down in under a minute. Well done, everybody.
Max and Tamara strolled into the op center, their hands so close together that Juan suspected they'd been holding them just seconds earlier. The bullfrog and the princess, he thought, but was happy for them both.
Perfect timing, my friend.
Hanley looked at him like a buyer eyes a used-car salesman. I've got a bad feeling about this.
Cabrillo smiled broadly. And so you should. I need you to play Igor and go rob a churchyard.
Tamara looked aghast. You want him to do what?
You know, Max said, shaking his head from side to side. I have to admit there was a part of me that hoped this piece of the operation wouldn't pan out.
Come on, Juan teased, fresh air, open skies, decomposing Norwegians. It'll be great!
What are you two talking about? Decomposing who?
Max turned to her. In order for us to rescue the hostages so the Argentines don't know they're missing, we have to leave something behind to fool them.
But?
Once we get them out of the building, Juan said, we'll torch it. All they'll find are eighteen sets of charred bones. Only a pathologist would know they weren't the original men and women. We're just grateful the sizes of the winter-over crews are so small, otherwise we'd need to come up with an alternative.
Like what? Her mind reeled.
A small nuke, maybe.
From what she'd seen of the Corporation so far, she wasn't sure if Cabrillo was joking or not. She wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.