Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“We’re ready.” Looking at Fayez, he cocked his head at Dimitris and Remi. “I want those two on the Odysseus when we blow it up.”

Fayez pulled several zip ties from his pocket and limped over to the young man, securing his hands behind his back. He moved to Remi, pulling her hands behind her back. As he tightened the strap, they heard a thunk against the hull. Fayez and Remi both looked over the side to see that the current had carried the divers closer to the Asteri , one now right up against it. Fayez was about to turn away, when the tank clunked again. It shifted, turning the body just enough to show the man’s face. Fayez pushed Remi aside, staring for several seconds. “That’s not Fargo. That’s Kostas.” He looked at the other man floating farther out. “And Gregor.”

Adrian strode toward the railing, took one look, then rounded on Remi, his gaze darkening with anger. “Where is your husband?”

“I have no idea.”

He glanced at Ilya. “Call Piers on the Odysseus that Fargo’s on the loose.” Ilya moved off, and Adrian turned to Fayez. “Zip-tie their feet.”

Fayez kneeled with some difficulty. He pulled a zip tie tight around Dimitris’s ankles, then did the same to Remi.

Ilya looked up from his phone. “Piers’s phone goes to voice mail.”

“Fargo.” Adrian rounded on Remi, pushed her to the deck so hard it knocked the breath from her lungs. Pain lanced through her hip and shoulder, but when she looked down, she realized she was just a few inches from the knife she’d hidden beneath her fins. Ignoring the pain, she rolled, reaching behind her until she felt the fins. She slipped her fingers between them, touching the knife, then froze as Kyril looked down at her. Finally, as he turned away, she shifted into a sitting position.

Adrian’s gaze was on the research vessel. “We need to find him.”

“Why don’t we just blow it up now?” Ilya asked.

“Because I want to see his face when I tell him his wife is dead.”

“Wait,” Fayez said as Adrian stepped on the platform behind Ilya. “We’re not taking these two onto the other boat? I thought we were going to blow them all up.”

“No time. Dump them overboard, they’ll drown. I want it to look like an accident.”

Dimitris, glancing over at Remi, saw her working her knife. When Fayez looked at the two of them as though trying to decide who to drown first, Dimitris scooted forward, doing his best to kick at him. “Stay away from her.”

Fayez stepped back, out of reach. “Or what?”

“You’ll see.” He shifted forward, kicking a second time.

Fayez seemed amused. “I’m sure she’ll love to see you die first.” He stepped behind Dimitris, dragging the struggling man toward the ladder. Remi started sawing her knife against the zip tie. The blade slipped from her grasp. She stilled, but Fayez, busy with trying to shove Dimitris into the water, didn’t seem to hear. She grasped the blade, again working it against the thick plastic. She cut through as Fayez pushed Dimitris headfirst into the sea.

With her hands free, she cut the tie at her ankles, then jumped to her feet.

“Fayez,” Remi called out.

He turned and faced her, saw the knife she held and laughed. “You forget. I’ve seen you—”

She hurled the blade.

It struck him below the sternum.

Remi darted forward as he slumped to the deck. Fayez stared up at her in shock. “Practice,” she said, looking past him, seeing Dimitris sinking into the depths. She yanked the knife from Fayez’s chest. Had she not worried that Adrian or Ilya would spot his body, she would’ve left him there. Instead, she shoved him over the edge, then dove into the water to save her friend.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

Adrian Kyril, seething with anger, nearly ran into the back of Ilya when the man stopped suddenly on the deck of the Odysseus .

Ilya stood there, one hand on the cabin door, looking in the direction of the Asteri .

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asked, annoyed.

“I heard a splash.”

“Fayez dumping the bodies.”

“Maybe I should check.”

“Leave them. We need to find Fargo. If he’s on board, we’re all in trouble.”

When Ilya hesitated, Adrian pushed past him, pulling open the door. He stepped in, looking around the multipurpose room. Galley on the port side, a couch and two chairs on the starboard side, the room was divided by a long table, where Adrian saw a half-empty coffee cup, an open box of crackers, and Piers’s cell phone. He walked over, touched the mug. It was still warm.

Piers, however, was nowhere in sight.

Adrian’s blood pressure rose at the thought that Fargo might have bested him once again. He’d had over a decade to nurse his hatred for Sam and Remi Fargo. Because of their interference, his mother was dead, their property and assets stolen by the government, and he was left suffering the indignity of living like a pauper, all while the Fargos pretended to be philanthropists, raking in millions of dollars in the process. Taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself, he eyed the passageway leading below deck.

Fargo would definitely try to save the hostages.

“Check up here,” he said, heading for the stairs. Holding his gun close, he started down, stopping at the bottom to listen, hearing nothing. He reached out, opening the first door, pointing his weapon at the four hostages hog-tied to each other. They looked up in fright as he quickly surveyed the room, closed that door, then crossed over and checked the adjoining cabin, seeing the other four there. And no sign of Fargo.

“I found Piers,” Ilya called out from above.

Relieved, he closed the door and hurried up the stairs, seeing Piers standing next to Ilya. “Where were you?”

“In the head. Too much coffee.”

“Where’s Gianni?”

“Right where you left him,” Piers said, pointing upward. “Keeping watch.”

Adrian, still worried about Fargo, dug the gold coin from his pocket, holding it up. “Half of the treasure to anyone who captures Fargo. I want him on this boat with the others when it goes up.”

Piers’s eyes widened. “Is that thing real?”

“Very.”

Ilya glanced at the coin as Adrian stuffed it back in his pocket. “Half the treasure. You’ll have to reconsider the explosion.”

“You’re the one who said we should make it look like an accident.”

“An explosion will only bring the authorities,” Ilya said. “They’ll find the shipwreck when they send divers to salvage what’s left of the Odysseus .”

Adrian felt his jaw clenching, then forced himself to relax. He strode to the door, pushing it open. “We find Fargo first, move the boat, then blow it up. If he’s not on board, he’s lurking around it. Maybe we can see him from the upper bridge.”

Ilya followed him out. “This might be a good time to cut your losses and leave. I have friends who can get you out of the country.”

“I have no intention of living my life a poor man on the run.” He crossed to the starboard side, taking the stairs up. At the top, there was a short open deck leading to the open second bridge, where Gianni was sitting in the captain’s chair, facing forward.

He spun around as they walked in. “Something wrong?”

“Fargo’s out there somewhere.”

“So we let him come aboard, and boom!” Gianni held up the remote. “Charges set on the hull, just like you asked.”

“Careful,” Ilya said, taking the remote from him.

“I’m not an idiot. No batteries.” He nodded to a black bag on the bench seat. “They’re in there.”

“Change of plans,” Adrian told him. “We’re moving the boat.”