Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“Even if they have, once they get word about this, it’s over.”

“I have a plan for that, too.”

Adrian pulled himself up straight, took a deep breath, and looked over at him. “Do tell.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Two days later . . .

You’re not going to like this,” Rube said to Sam when he’d called to update him on the case. “The Kyrils are insisting that their yacht was overtaken by pirates, and that the person they’d hired as caretaker probably facilitated the kidnapping.”

“What a ridiculous lie.” Sam looked over at Remi and Dimitris. Both stood on the dock, Dimitris instructing Remi on how to use a throwing knife. They took turns tossing it so that it landed point-down in one of the wood planks. The object, apparently, was to move the knife one plank forward with each throw. Remi was starting to get the hang of it. “Did anyone talk to this caretaker?”

“Apparently, he was killed when the kidnappers made their escape.”

“So, the only witness to the Kyrils’ claim is conveniently dead? Considering we left everyone very much alive, I’d like to know how he supposedly died.”

“The Kyrils,” Rube said, ignoring the obvious, “have no knowledge of the kidnapping and are cooperating completely with the authorities. They are, however, taking responsibility for not doing a thorough background check on the caretaker. They’d like to formally apologize to both Remi and Dimitris for anything that happened due to their oversight.”

“No one actually believes this, do they?”

“Between you and me? I expect they have too many friends in high places, and without hard evidence, this case isn’t going anywhere.”

“So what happens now?”

“Formally, we add a supplemental to what we have on file, let the local authorities handle it, and move on. It’s out of our jurisdiction. Now that your friends are out of danger, and it isn’t a national security issue, it goes to the bottom of the pile.”

“That’s it? They get away with it?”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Fargo, but maybe it’s time to call it a day. Return to the States and get on with your lives.”

As much as Sam had tried to convince Remi to leave, she had already made it clear that she planned on staying until the police had made an arrest. “I’m not sure that’ll go over well.”

“Regardless, there’s nothing much any of you can do.”

“Let’s say I decide to do some digging on my own. Any suggestions on how best to go about it?”

“My formal suggestion? Stay far away from this group. They’re dangerous.” Rube paused and let out a deep sigh. “I know, I’m preaching to the choir. If you do find anything, turn it over to me. I’ll add it to the file. Beyond that, I can’t make any promises.”

Which wasn’t much help at all. “I don’t suppose you have anyone on speed dial who’s discreet and can help with some under-the-table research?”

“I might know a few people. Let me check with a couple of my associates. If I come across someone, I’ll contact you.”

“Thanks, Rube. Appreciate it.”

After ending the call, he walked over to Remi and Dimitris. They were about six planks into their game. On Remi’s next turn, the knife landed but didn’t stick, the blade skittering past its intended mark. “ So close!” She looked up at Sam as she retrieved it. “What’d your friend say?”

“His first suggestion is to pack up and go home.”

She handed the knife to Dimitris, waiting for him to take his turn—a solid hit—before asking, “Why would we do that?”

“To start, it’s safer.”

Remi glanced over at him, then back to the game, throwing the knife. This time, it actually stuck. “Ha!”

“See?” Dimitris said. “You just needed a little oomph behind it. Try it again.”

She did. When it stuck with a solid thwack , she walked over, pulled it up, then returned to Sam’s side. “That can’t be all you talked about.”

“The Kyrils are blaming the kidnapping on pirates who were given access to the boat by their now-dead caretaker.”

“Dead caretaker? You know they’re lying.”

He eyed the weapon she held. “To be clear, I’m in complete agreement with you. Rube, however, suggests that we return to the States.”

“Exactly what my father said,” she said, handing the knife to Dimitris.

“In this case, I agree. You should probably go home.”

“Me? I thought you said we? I can’t just up and go home. Would you go home if this happened to you?”

“No, but that’s different.”

She crossed her arms, her green eyes narrowing. “Why?”

What could he say? He had a feeling she was expecting him to point out the obvious answer, that she was a woman and he a man.

But that wasn’t what he’d been thinking at all. Nor had it anything to do with the very real answer that, because of his training at DARPA, he was better suited to remain behind and look into things.

The truth, though, was nothing close to that.

While he wouldn’t call it love at first sight, he’d definitely describe it as pretty damned sure—not that he was about to announce that fact. And that knowledge made him terrified that if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. “I work better by myself,” he blurted to avoid the truth. That sounded lame even to him. Clearly, he was turning into a lovesick puppy.

Remi crossed her arms. “ I was the one kidnapped. Not you. I’m staying. You’re welcome to go home.”

“Don’t forget, you called me.”

“Please. It wasn’t like I expected you to personally show up. We had things under control.”

“What were you planning to do? Hold the guard hostage with the toenail clippers? The attack on me with a case of soda cans didn’t exactly work.”

“A shame we didn’t hit you harder.”

“Hard enough.”

“Regardless, we would’ve come up with a solid Plan B. Right, Dimitris?”

Dimitris pulled the knife from the plank and handed it to Remi. “I think I’ll check on my father. Let you two work things out.”

Remi ignored him, her attention on Sam. “I’m not leaving.”

Sam could almost see her mind racing as though she couldn’t help what she was saying and knew he was right. She’d wanted him to show up. They didn’t have things under control. There was no Plan B.

Sam broke into her thoughts. “There’s got to be some way we can resolve this.”

She held up the knife. “A game of planks. Person who wins decides if I stay or go.”

“You’re sure you want to decide it this way?”

“Positive. You’re the one who should worry. When it comes to things with a target, I’m pretty good.”

“You just learned how to play.”

“I’ve had half a deck to warm up.” She held the blade toward him.

Sam didn’t move. “I’m not throwing a knife to decide something this important.”

“Worried you might lose, Fargo?” For all her bravado, she couldn’t hide the vulnerability in her eyes.

He took the knife. But instead of the plank, he aimed for the pylon about eighteen feet away. It hit. “You were saying?”

Remi watched the handle vibrating from the impact. “How about a game of rock, paper, scissors?”

Sam just stared at her, wondering how anyone could be so confusing. But before he could say anything, Nikos came storming out of the house, Dimitris right behind him.

“My son tells me that the Kyrils are denying that they’re behind his kidnapping. Is this true?”

“It is,” Sam said. “At least, according to my friend who works for the CIA.”

“How do they believe these lies?” Nikos’s dark eyes narrowed. “I’ll go after Adrian Kyril myself to get the truth.”