Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“Technique,” Sam shouted. “Not quite a back dive. More like a mummy in a coffin. Body straight, arms crossed tight on your chest, feet together. Just make sure you land on your butt and back, not your feet.”

Remi glanced over her shoulder at the heavy wake trailing after them, then at Sam, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

Dimitris took her arm. “Better than getting shot.”

She looked back at Sam. “How are you getting off?”

“After I lead them away.”

Dimitris tried guiding her to the back of the boat. When she hesitated, Sam said, “Don’t worry. You and I have a date. Wouldn’t dream of missing it.” He waited until they were in position, hoping to keep them out of view and out of the other boat’s path. He slowed to about fifty miles per hour. The two poised on the back of the boat. “Now!”

They pushed off. Sam pressed the throttle forward, steered away from them. His slower speed cost him. The Kyrils’ speedboat was gaining.

At least Remi and Dimitris were safe.

Not that he was about to give up on his own life. He lashed one of the mooring ropes around the wide-open throttle, started to tie that to the steering wheel, aiming for open water. He was going a lot faster than when they jumped. Still, what choice did he have? About to let go of the steering wheel and make for the back of the boat, he saw the red port-side lights of the Kyrils’ yacht.

A much better plan, he decided.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Remi ended up about fifteen feet behind Dimitris, finally seeing him once the wake of the passing speedboats dissipated. As Dimitris swam toward her, she looked around. They were at least two miles from shore, the lights of the city twinkling against the ink-black horizon. Turning about, she saw the two speedboats growing more distant. As much as she realized she and Dimitris needed to swim to shore, she felt tethered to the spot, treading water, while her gut twisted inside her.

Dimitris followed the direction of her gaze. “You think he’ll jump?”

“Let’s hope so.” His boat seemed to be slowing, which made her think he already had—until she saw it make a sudden turn toward the Kyrils’ yacht. They were too far away for her to see if Sam was still on the boat, but the turn was too deliberate. A barrage of bright muzzle flashes from the pursuing speedboat lit up the night sky.

Sam’s vessel continued veering toward the Mirage . It hit the swim deck, then hurtled upward, the red and green sidelights spinning like a kaleidoscope. It exploded in a blinding flash, then crashed into the water.

Remi’s gut clenched. Her limbs turned leaden, pulling her down. If Sam was in that boat, there was nothing they could do. If he wasn’t . . . they needed to get help. She forced herself to breathe evenly, trying to clear her sense of shock. “Let’s go.”

They started the long swim to shore, covering the first mile in about half an hour by her estimation. Dimitris was a strong swimmer, but paced himself to match Remi, who discovered that swimming a couple miles in a pool was a far cry from the same distance in the sea, when their only nourishment these past two days was the soda they’d found in the cabin. Each time they stopped to rest, Remi looked back, thinking about Sam.

Her only hope was when she saw the Kyril yacht pulling away. That, at least, meant they weren’t coming back for them or Sam—if he’d survived.

“He’ll be fine,” Dimitris said. “We’ll send help as soon as we reach shore.”

He started sidestroking to the north. Remi followed with a paced breaststroke. After what seemed like an eternity, Remi was certain the lights they were swimming toward seemed farther now than when they’d started. She and Dimitris stopped to rest again. She turned on her back, unable to do more than let the current carry her where it would.

“Remi?”

She didn’t have the energy to respond. Instead, she stared up at the sky, trying to find the North Star.

Sam . . .

It’ll always lead me to you.

“Remi! Look!”

She mustered enough strength to turn her head in the direction Dimitris was pointing. Either she was hallucinating, or the lights from the shore were moving in their direction. It was a moment before she realized that’s exactly what was happening. An entire flotilla of lights.

Dimitris started waving his hands, shouting in Greek, “Over here! Over here!”

Dozens of fishing boats and trawlers were heading their way. Spotlights swept across the surface, one finally landing on them as Dimitris continued waving.

Remi joined in, relief buoying her energy as the boats neared. Someone threw out a preserver. Dimitris swam to it, then brought it back to Remi.

Nikos motored up in the Asteri , hugging them both the moment they boarded. As Dimitris told his father about what they’d witnessed, Nikos’s expression turned grim. Even so, he radioed the others to start heading toward the Kyrils’ yacht.

Or rather, where it used to be.

It was long gone by the time they started searching.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The crash had been spectacular, although Sam regretted having to sacrifice the beautiful old boat.

But it had the desired effect. Kyril’s men decided to turn tail and run, rather than risk any inquiries from the unwanted attention that the explosion brought to the Mirage .

He hoped that meant Remi and Dimitris were safe. Much depended on whether or not they were picked up by one of Nikos’s friends or, since they were much closer when they’d jumped, managed to swim to shore.

Sam, on the other hand, was several miles from anywhere. He’d been swimming northeast for the past hour, not sure if he’d made much progress, trying to get to the flotilla of fishing boats heading to where the yacht had been.

Too far away to call out to them, he realized they’d be gone by the time he could get there. His only recourse was to stay put and hope that help came to him.

A good decision, it turned out.

As dawn crept in, one of the fishermen spotted him.

Within minutes, he was pulled aboard and taken into the cabin. Someone got on the radio. A moment later, he recognized Nikos’s voice coming from it. “Fargo! We found them both. They’re fine.”

Someone led Sam to a seat, wrapped a blanket around him, brought him a hot cup of Greek coffee. It was extra strong, made with three teaspoons of sugar and two heaping teaspoons of coffee. The vary glykos warmed him immediately.

He held it between his hands, a mix of emotions coursing through him, and only one thought running through his mind.

Remi was safe.

—

Within a half hour, Sam rejoined Nikos on the Asteri , where Remi and Dimitris were waiting. Both had showered and were dressed in borrowed clothes from the crew, Remi’s far too large, the cuffs on her pants and shirt rolled up several times to accommodate her.

Though it was a far cry from the color-coordinated wardrobe he’d seen hanging in her closet, he thought she looked perfect. Even more so when she smiled, and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Remi, I told you the North Star will always lead me to you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and he drew her close. This time the kiss lingered, but ended far sooner than either of them would have liked.

Nikos held up a bottle of ouzo and four ice-filled glasses. “Sit, Fargo. It’s time to celebrate.” He poured the clear liquid into each glass, then took a small bottle of water, topping each. The moment the water hit the ouzo, it turned from clear to milky white. He lifted his glass in a toast. “Whatever the reason, I’m very glad you came. I thank you for my son’s life. For Remi’s life. For surviving, yourself.”