William Thorpe, his tired face showing the rigors of too little sleep and a constant dependency on prescription drugs, sat across from Escandoza. He turned and stared out the window.
The drug lord studied the 70-year-old scientist. Even in the chilly, dry air of the jet, the man’s shirt revealed sweat stains. Thorpe’s health had declined over the last month — he had lost a considerable amount of weight. Escandoza decided he would assign a physician to keep Thorpe alive long enough to complete the manufacture of the Candles. Once the process was documented and taught to the drug lord’s handpicked team of technicians, there would be no further need for the former member of Project Candle Power. Perhaps he would bury Dr. Thorpe right here on San Andres, Escandoza thought. He might even build a monument to the sad, little man responsible for changing the world forever.
Teresa Castillo sat on the circular couch in the back of the small jet. Her dark hair, shinning like polished ebony, fell around her shoulders as she crossed her tanned legs. She looked up from the London Financial Times, and smiled. “You’ll like the island, Dr. Thorpe. It’s beautiful.”
Her companion, a sixteen-year-old stripper from Rio de Janeiro named Krystal, stirred beside her. The girl had slept the entire flight from Colombia and now sat up stretching.
She was angelic, Escandoza thought, as he admired the teen’s tiny bare feet with nails screaming cherry red. “Teresa is right, it’s very beautiful.” He reluctantly turned his attention back to Thorpe. “The lab is almost complete, and the korium is scheduled for delivery a week from today. You have only to supervise the final preparations so we can begin production as soon as the Tiger Shark arrives.”
“Fine,” Thorpe said dryly. He returned to making notes in a binder he carried.
There was a slight bump as the Gulfstream touched down and rolled the length of the runway. It slowed and turned toward two cars parked along the tarmac. One was a black Mercedes limousine, the other a dark gray, windowless van. The jet taxied to a stop and the side door opened and swung down to form steps. Colonel Blackstone emerged from the van and approached the jet. He reached up and offered his hand to Teresa who ignored him as she stepped down onto the asphalt. Krystal accepted the colonel’s offer and smiled at the rugged-looking mercenary as she gingerly placed her spiked sandals on each step. Once the two women were together, they walked hand-in-hand to the big German-built car.
William Thorpe followed giving Blackstone only a momentary glance.
At last, Escandoza filled the entrance to the plane at the top of the steps. “Good evening, Colonel.”
“Teresa’s latest piece of candy?”
“Yes.” The two men shook hands once Escandoza stood on the tarmac. “I can only assume she is as delicious as she looks.” He turned and saluted his pilot. Then he started toward the limousine with Blackstone at his side. “What is the latest?”
“I have good news and a little surprise.”
Escandoza smiled, his white linen suit blowing in the brisk tropical breeze. “Don’t keep me in suspense.” He brushed the hair from his eyes.
“The Tiger Shark is underway, the korium safe and secure. That’s the good news.”
“And the surprise?”
“We have a special guest on board.”
“Not Rainer Knebel?”
“No. Unfortunately, Mr. Knebel was killed in a shootout at the last moment.”
“Then who?”
“Someone we both have wanted to meet for a long time.”
Escandoza stopped and stared at Blackstone. “Skyler?”
“He shot Knebel and is masquerading as the South African.”
“Really?” Escandoza chuckled.
“Captain Schafer recognized him right away but is taking no action unless we request it.”
“So Mr. Skyler has become a real annoyance.”
“Should I order the captain to eliminate him? Having Skyler alive is one more problem we don’t need.”
“We have no problems, Colonel, only opportunities. I’ve always believed that if you want to punish someone, really make them suffer, you need to know what they value.” A broad smile swept across the drug lord’s face. “And then you take it away.”
“Give me an electronic sweep.” Captain Schafer eased into his chair in the command center of the Tiger Shark.
Skyler stood behind him watching the sophisticated order in which the men went about their jobs. He felt a tinge of excitement being back on the bridge of a warship, realizing he had a bit of admiration for this privately owned pirate navy. As much as he detested Escandoza and what he stood for, the drug lord definitely knew how to put together an elite military force.
The electronics officer watched the frequency scanner readout. “The Carupano is four thousand yards off our port bow.”
“Good.” Schafer pressed the intercom. “Sonar, Conn.”
“Conn, sonar, aye.”
“Contacts?”
“Still just the one, sir.”
“All right, bring us to periscope depth.”
“Aye, sir,” came a reply from the first officer. “Periscope depth.”
“What is the Carupano?” Skyler asked.
“Our ticket home, Mr. Knebel. The Americans will be searching for a submarine racing at full steam across the Atlantic. What they won’t be looking for is an old Panamanian freighter plowing a labored course for South America.”
“I don’t understand,” Skyler said.
“I intend to bring the Tiger Shark up under the Carupano close enough to turn our combined sonar signature into a single blip as we ride piggyback to Colombia.” He emphasized by placing one palm of his hand over the other.
“Brilliant,” Skyler said, realizing that if Schafer could pull this off, there was a good chance the korium would make it to Escandoza. Now he must decide — sabotage the sub, stop the shipment, and in effect commit suicide, or let it complete its journey and take his chances confronting Escandoza head-on.
“Search periscope up,” Schafer ordered. The shiny tube rose into position and the captain pulled the focusing handles down making a rapid 360-degree sweep. “Dark skies, raining hard, not much to see.” He turned to Skyler. “A nasty day to be on the surface.” Schafer folded the handles. “Down scope.” As the mechanism lowered with a whoosh, he returned to his chair. “Take us to within a thousand yards.”
“Aye, sir,” said the first officer. “One thousand yards.”
Skyler watched as the helmsman adjusted his controls.
A few moments later the first officer called out, “One thousand yards, sir.”
“Up periscope,” Schafer ordered. Again, he unfolded the handles, making a quick sweep of the horizon. “There she is.” He pulled away from the eyepiece. “Video.”
Skyler and the first officer watched a large video monitor that was mounted above the plotting table as it blinked to life. A fuzzy black and white image appeared showing a turbulent sea covered with whitecaps. The Carupano was little more than a blurry form on the horizon, dark smoke flowing from its funnel.
“We have found our ride home, gentlemen.” Schafer grinned proudly. He turned back to the eyepiece making one last sweep of the horizon.
Skyler watched the video monitor as the gray ocean rolled by. “Captain, what was that? You passed something, a small object.”
Schafer seemed a bit annoyed as he panned the scope back in the opposite direction. “I see nothing.”
“There is something,” the first officer said. He took a step toward the screen and pointed.