Clive Cussler: The Eye of Heaven

“Judging by the empty tank holders, I presume we missed them.”

“Did you? It’s so hard to keep track of everyone on a yacht this size. But it doesn’t surprise me to hear that they went for a dive. That’s one of their passions, after all. Rather keen on it, actually.”

“What is she? Forty meters?” Remi asked.

“Oh my, no. Rather more like fifty-something. I forget exactly. It’s only one in my stable, don’t you know. A bit of a sod to maintain and not inexpensive, but why do we strive if not to enjoy our little luxuries?”

They spent another twenty minutes bantering, circling gladiators in a verbal arena, probing each other for any hint of vulnerability, but Janus was too smooth to slip up. Even though Sam and Remi knew his game, and Janus knew that they knew, there wasn’t much to be done about it aboard his yacht. When Sam grew tired of the exchange, they excused themselves, thanked Janus for his hospitality, and returned to the dive platform.

“Leaves a taste like spoiled food, doesn’t he?” Sam commented as they donned their gear.

“Like rotten shark meat.” Remi pulled on her hood. “He’s very smooth, though, isn’t he? Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”

“He’s always been that way. Remember the last time?”

Sam and Remi had run across Benedict once before, on an expedition to locate a lost Spanish galleon off the Normandy coast — a search that had ultimately proved successful, but not before they’d had to contend with suspicious equipment failures they’d believed had been engineered by Janus’s henchmen. His name came up routinely in certain circles in connection with stolen artifacts, as well as his primary business: arms-dealing to a who’s who of African despots and cartel-affiliated shell companies. His connections and financial clout were such that he’d never been prosecuted for so much as a parking ticket. His network of banks, insurance firms, and real estate development companies secured his position as a legitimate fixture on the United Kingdom’s social scene. He’d been invited to more palaces than most career diplomats and swam in the treacherous waters of power with the natural ease of a barracuda.

“We have to notify the university and the government, Sam. We can’t let him get away with this. You and I both know the wreck will be picked clean by the time he’s done with it,” Remi whispered.

“Yes, I know. But my fear is that he’s obviously been able to buy off at least some of the higher functionaries, so by the time they do arrive to secure the cache the Spanish people will be the poorer for it.”

Remi adjusted her dive vest and turned to face Sam. “I know that tone. What are you thinking of doing?”

“We’ll still go through the proper channels, but it may take a little unconventional thinking to guarantee he doesn’t make off with anything first.”

“And you’re just the guy to think big … and outside the box,” she said, raising one eyebrow.

“I’d like to believe I’m more than just a pretty face to you.”

“Well, you do give a good back rub.”

“Subtle hint there?” Sam asked, peering over the edge of the platform at the water below.

“And you catch on quick. I like that.”

She splashed into the sea, and Sam waited until her head bobbed on the surface nearby before joining her, his mind churning over possible ways to thwart Janus on the open ocean, vastly outnumbered by his crew.

Dominic paced in the pilothouse as Sam and Remi waited with crossed arms for a response from the Spanish Department of Antiquities on what course of action they intended to take in order to protect the shipwreck from looting. In frustration, Sam glanced at the Anonimo Professionale CNS dive watch Remi had given him for his birthday. They’d insisted on radioing in the threat when nobody had answered their phones — not completely unexpected on a Friday before a holiday weekend.

Dominic cut short his walk to nowhere and turned to face them. “My friends, we’ve done everything we can. I’ll notify you when I hear something.”

“Isn’t there anyone else we can get in touch with? The police? The Coast Guard?” Remi demanded.

“I’ll notify everyone and anyone, but there’s a limit to how many of these agencies will react. Remember that while this is extremely important to us, to the rest of the world it’s low on the priority list. Our best bet is to wait for someone from the university or the government to respond.”

“By which time, they could have made off with most, or all, of the relics,” Sam said.

Dominic shrugged. “I understand your frustration. I share it. Which is why I’ll wait to hear and keep calling whoever I can think of.”

Sam touched Remi’s arm and they exchanged a look. Sam nodded and let out a sigh. “I suppose we have to work within the system. If nobody cares to respond, we can’t make them. And we certainly can’t sink Benedict’s boat, much as I’d like to.”

Remi gave him a dark glare. “Sam …”

“I said I wouldn’t. Don’t worry.” Sam looked at Dominic. “You will come get us if there’s any word?”

“Of course. The moment I hear something.”

Sam led the way back on deck, where the crew’s barbeque celebration had gradually increased in volume as the day wore on. Raucous laughter greeted them, along with shouts of mock outrage as the never-ending card game continued. The surface of the water around the Bermudez rippled with golden flashes as the sun slid beneath the horizon. Twilight would soon overtake them, and both Sam and Remi knew that their chances of any action being taken by the authorities were receding with the sun’s waning glow.

Back in their stateroom, Remi sat down on the bed and eyed Sam, who had moved to the nearest porthole, from which he was watching Janus’s yacht.

“You know nobody’s going to respond until Monday at the earliest,” she said.

“That’s unfortunately true. Whether it’s because Benedict paid them off to be unavailable or because it’s Friday in Spain.” Sam paused. “I think I know how they’re going to make off with the statuary without risking being boarded and arrested, even though it’s a long shot. They’re not going to load anything on board.”

“Then how are they going to steal it?”

“Ah. With a little sleight of hand, and using Mother Nature to hide their tracks.”

“It’s a little late in the day for riddles, Sam.”

“If I were them, I’d wait until it got dark. How long do you think it would take to empty the hold?”

“Just to extract the statues, if you didn’t care about damaging the wreck? At least all day. But you might lose a few pieces,” Remi said.

“Right. Their biggest problem will be raising it all from the bottom. They can’t do that without being obvious. So my hunch is they’ll wait until dark and use the ship’s cranes.”

Remi frowned. “I thought you said they weren’t going to load it.”

“Not into the boat.”

She stared at him, puzzlement written across her face, and then smiled. “You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?”

“If you want to catch a thief, you have to think like one,” Sam said. “They could be done in six to seven hours if they move fast, which you have to believe they will. The work lights will more than compensate for the lack of daylight. I say they’ll pull an all-nighter and be ready to steam out of here at dawn, if not before. That’s my prediction.”

“But we’re going to throw a wrench in that,” Remi said.

“You bet. I specialize in wrench tossing. It was my minor in college.”

“I thought it was beer drinking.”

“You have to have priorities. And they aren’t mutually exclusive.”