Mission Titanic

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Mission Titanic Page 7

by Jude Watson


  “We’ve got enough on our hands without a ghost,” Amy said. “We picked it because it’s on the tourist track, and we’ve got exits if we have to get out fast. Cara, if you hang out in City Hall, will you be close enough to hack into Atlas’s phone?”

  Cara nodded. “Already checked it out. The longer you keep him talking, the more chance I’ll have. He’ll have firewall after firewall.”

  Amy walked a few steps closer. She had already studied the church online. It seemed like the perfect place for the meeting. Met all requirements.

  She was still nervous.

  Ian joined her. “I’ve gone over it and over it in my head,” he said. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Things could go wrong that you don’t expect,” Amy said.

  “I’ve planned for every eventuality,” Ian said. “This is a business meeting. He either agrees to help us or he doesn’t.”

  “True,” Amy said. “But this is a guy who’s dealt with the baddest people on the planet. He could be unpredictable.”

  Amy heard the chime of a text and glanced at her phone. A surge of happiness made her face burn. It was from Jake.

  Heading off to the farther dig for two weeks. Will be off the grid. Miss u.

  Me 2, Amy replied.

  Thinking about heading back to Harvard next year. Ready to come home. Atticus too. Cambridge is close to Attleboro. Will u be done with your Swift wanderings by then? Might be nice to live on the same continent as my girlfriend.

  Amy stared down at the text. The prospect of a normal life hummed in her hand. Possibility. Back to Massachusetts, back to Jake. Seeing him, being with him, continuing on this journey of getting to know each other. Was she ready?

  Was she ready?

  She felt giddy just thinking about it.

  Across the globe, Jake sat waiting for her answer. She couldn’t tell him that the house in Attleboro could be gone forever. She had to see that future, and trust that she could make it true.

  Sounds perfect. Yes. YES!

  The answer came back swiftly.

  I am smiling.

  Amy pressed xo and turned off the phone. She felt her heart lift on the breeze and skid over the rooftops.

  She caught Ian looking at her and tried to suppress her smile. “Sorry. It was Jake.”

  “How do you do that?” Ian asked.

  “What?”

  “Be happy with someone,” Ian blurted.

  Amy almost laughed, but she saw it was a serious question. “Well, I’m hardly an expert,” she said. “The first time I met Jake, I hit him. Hard. Then we didn’t want to admit we liked each other. Then we got together. Then we broke up. We got back together. There were whole months that it seemed like all we did was argue.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Ian said.

  “And then …”

  “And then?”

  “We decided to trust each other.”

  Ian looked at her with such an expression of bewilderment on his face that she was tempted to laugh again, but bit her lip instead.

  “Lucians don’t trust people,” he said.

  There probably would have been a time when Amy would have nodded and accepted that. All those divisions that kept the Cahill branches apart. Lucians are sly; Ekats can fix anything; Janus are the life of the party; if you want to move a refrigerator, ask a Tomas! But Cahills weren’t just about different branches. They were people. Individual, quirky people with their own histories and likes and dislikes and their own secret sorrows and their own secret joys.

  “Oh, please,” Amy said. “That’s your father talking. Of course you trust people! You trusted your sister. You trust me, and Dan, and the rest of us. Now you just take one more step. You have to trust the person who can break your heart.” She nudged him with her shoulder.

  “Why do girls do that?” Ian said in exasperation.

  “Because boys don’t listen hard enough. C’mon, let’s get back to the others. We’ve only got another hour before Atlas shows up. Time to check the perimeter.”

  They rejoined the others. “So who goes to the meeting?” Dan asked.

  Everyone looked at Amy, but she looked at Ian. She felt the need to speak pressing against her throat, but she had to respect Ian’s leadership. Still, it was hard to have to constantly keep her mouth shut.

  “Jonah is too public,” Ian said.

  “This face is too pretty, yo,” Jonah said. “But I’m your backup if something goes south.”

  “You and Cara,” Ian said, nodding. “He answered the e-mail so quickly not because he needs the work. He knows about the Cahills.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Amy asked.

  “Because he’s an underground presence, just as we are,” Ian said. “He thinks we have unlimited resources and he knows we’re powerful. But clearly he does not know about the attempted takeover of the family and that we essentially would be without the cash to pay him his fee — if we didn’t have Jonah’s Hollywood bankroll.”

  “What’s mine is yours, cuz,” Jonah said.

  “So let’s stick to our story. No embellishments.”

  Amy was glad to see that Ian was back in his usual mode. Giving orders. It was a good sign.

  “When you’re trying to get something out of someone who is suspicious of you,” Ian said, “you have to use the KISS method.”

  “You have to kiss him?” Dan cried. “Gross!”

  “Keep It Simple, Stupid,” Ian explained. “K-I-S-S. The more details you give, the more holes in the story. We just have to pay him for information. It’s all about the money. We’ll tell him we have to get on that ship. He doesn’t have to know why. If he balks, we intimidate him.”

  Amy opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. She didn’t think intimidation would work with this guy. But she couldn’t undermine Ian in front of the others. Besides, he could be right.

  Behind her back, she crossed her fingers.

  Keep it simple. And hope for luck.

  St. Paul’s Church, Halifax, Nova Scotia

  The man in the black wool cap looked like a tourist. He sat in a back pew, a missal in his hands. He wore a down jacket and jeans. When Amy and Ian slipped in next to him, he didn’t turn.

  Amy could only see the side of his face. Thin mouth, red beard, thick hands. A gigantic steel watch strapped to one wrist.

  Just an ordinary-looking guy.

  Then he turned to scope them out, and she felt her stomach drop. In that brief instant of meeting his eyes, she knew she’d just looked into a person without a soul.

  A person who trafficked in nuclear weapons. Who tested and sold those weapons to rogue nations, dictators, terrorists. Just for money.

  Amy felt fear drop over her like a suffocating hood. She had to force herself to breathe, in and out, trying to get a sense of calm in a suddenly rocking world. She felt dizzy. She reminded herself that Hamilton and Dan were nearby, pretending to be tourists with brochures in their hands, checking out the stained glass windows.

  She regretted choosing this meeting place. They had been looking for a central location. Quiet but not too quiet. Maybe a few tourists for cover. More than one exit and streets to get lost in if things went wrong. It fit the bill.

  She didn’t realize how terrible this would feel. She’d brought evil into this beautiful, sacred space.

  Keep your head in the game, Amy.

  Ian showed no outward sign of nerves. He did the thing that Ian did when he was nervous. He lifted his chin and looked superior.

  “Did nursery school let out?” The man’s voice was low and flat. “I didn’t realize I was dealing with a couple of kids.”

  “Cahills,” Ian said. “And I’m the head of the Cahill family. I think you’re familiar with our resources.”

  Amy admired Ian’s cool. They were in over their heads. Surely he knew it, too.

  “I trust you checked out the account numbers we provided,” Ian said.

  “Wouldn’t be sitting here if I hadn’t. I only deal with legi
timate clients. Sure, you have the resources, but I’m not in this game to play with children.” He made a restless move, as though he was about to rise.

  “We have plenty of information on your activities,” Ian said. “We know exactly what you do. We know that you run nukes all over the world.”

  No, Amy thought. No, Ian! Too soon! Under the cover of the pew, she pressed her foot against Ian’s. Telling him to stop. They wouldn’t get anywhere threatening Atlas.

  Ian pressed back, as if to tell her to chill.

  “We know that you’re the one to ask about trafficking and weapons,” Ian said. “We’ll pay you for information.”

  “You mean sell out my clients?”

  “Not necessarily,” Ian said. “We are interested in just one ship. The Aurora.”

  “I’ve got many ships around the world. Hard to remember each one.”

  “Try.”

  “I might be familiar with it.”

  “It’s registered as carrying refrigerators to Suriname. I’m sure the authorities here would be interested to know what’s actually in the cargo hold.”

  Don’t threaten him, Ian!

  “However, we just want to get aboard.”

  “You want to get aboard?” Atlas raked Ian with a glance.

  Ian gave a shrug. “We’re not interfering with anyone’s profit. We just want to have a look at the ship.”

  “Why?”

  Keep it simple, Ian!

  “That’s not your concern. All we need is for you to smooth the way with your captain.”

  “You do know, don’t you, that crossing me is something you really don’t want to do?”

  The voice was low and even, almost lazy. But Amy didn’t have to work to hear the menace in it.

  “We have no intention of crossing you,” Ian said.

  Atlas held Ian’s gaze for so long that Amy almost screamed STOP!

  Then he smiled without humor. He slapped both hands on his thighs and stood up. “Then let’s go.”

  “Now?”

  “Now or never. Bad weather coming. The Aurora is at maximum speed, heading into port. She’s three days ahead of schedule. We can head out and meet her. I have a boat.”

  “You mean you’ll pilot the two of us out there?”

  “The four of you.” Atlas pointed to Dan and Hamilton with his chin. “Tell your friends we’re leaving.”

  Halifax Harbor, Nova Scotia

  Dan zipped his jacket up to his neck. He was only wearing a hoodie underneath, and the wind off the water was like a knife. The temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute, and the sky was lowering. The harbor was flecked with white. Boats chugged in and out. A cool mist beaded up on his eyelashes.

  Dan could feel the presence of Jonah and Cara following them, but what could they do without a boat? In a silent exchange of looks, Amy, Ian, Hamilton, and Dan had agreed to go along with Atlas. They could be walking into danger, but they had to get on that ship. Dan couldn’t imagine another disaster leveling this beautiful city. The number of casualties could be greater even than the blast in 1917. He thought of that little girl with the balloon, skipping away down the street, holding her mother’s hand. Something tightened inside him. He wasn’t going to back down now.

  Atlas led them down a dock to a cabin cruiser. He jumped on board and crossed to the pilot’s chair. He started the engine without waiting to see if they followed.

  “I don’t like this,” Ian said softly.

  “It feels iffy,” Ham agreed.

  “You think?” Dan muttered. “We’re relying on a guy we can’t trust and searching a ship full of weapons to see how and when they’re going to blow up. What could possibly go wrong?”

  “We’ve all got tracking devices on our phones,” Amy said. “The others will know where we are, at least. And we don’t have a better plan.”

  “Ready to cast off?” Atlas yelled over the sound of the engine. “Or have you changed your minds?”

  Dan hated the sneer on his face. He was the first one to leap onto the deck. Ian and Amy followed.

  Ham cast off and jumped aboard.

  Atlas held out a black cap. “Phones.”

  They looked at each other, then back at him, unwilling to hand them over.

  He shook the cap impatiently. “Phones or no deal. Just in case you’re not who you say you are. I don’t want police on my tail. You’ll get them back when we return.”

  Reluctantly, they tossed their phones in the cap. He reached in and switched them all off. “Okay. Anchors aweigh.”

  He tossed the cap on the pilot seat. Standing, he motored out through the moorings, handling the boat with ease. Dan watched the shoreline recede. He noticed that most of the boats, if not all, were heading into the harbor, not out. The sky was dark gray, and even darker clouds were rolling in.

  Out here, the mist felt more like rain. He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt.

  They passed under a bridge and hit the breakwater. Atlas opened up the throttle. Dan felt his trepidation rise. The boat bumped on the choppy water. Spray mingled with rain, hitting his face like cold needles. He hunched his shoulders, turning away from the wind.

  “You okay?” Amy drifted closer.

  He nodded. He was cold and wet, and his skin crawled when he thought about what would happen next. But wherever “okay” was on the spectrum, he was there. Because they had to do this.

  “We’re going to have to cut across the shipping lanes,” Atlas shouted over the wind.

  Dan nodded, setting his teeth against their impulse to chatter. He saw an enormous tanker in the distance. Atlas seemed to be heading right for it. It grew larger and larger, a floating island, a hundred feet tall. The noise of the engines was louder than the wind.

  Was this guy crazy? The tanker was going to smash them into smithereens!

  Laughing, Atlas cut the wheel, and they turned sharply to starboard. The wake of the tanker made them roll crazily. Dan saw the sea rush up toward his face, and he had to grab the railing to keep his balance.

  “Just making sure you’re awake,” Atlas shouted.

  Ian’s face looked green. He hung on to the railing, staring back at the land.

  In the distance through wispy fog, another huge container ship was heading into the harbor. This one was even bigger than the tanker, as wide and twice as long as a football field.

  Ian pointed.

  “Is that it, Mr. Atlas?”

  “Looks like it. Let’s get a little closer!”

  “Great,” Dan muttered under his breath.

  It was getting darker. It wasn’t even five P.M., and dusk was settling in.

  “You’d better switch on the running lights!” Dan yelled.

  “Good idea!”

  But Atlas did nothing. Now they were just a dark speck, moving through gray.

  Dan peered ahead. They were at the mouth of the harbor now. The ocean seemed roiling and savage. The cabin cruiser felt impossibly small. It was being tossed on the waves like a toy rubber duck, and Atlas just kept pushing the speed.

  When they were out in the middle of the harbor, the thrum of the engine under Dan’s feet stopped. There was nothing but the sound of the wind and rain, and the waves slapping against the hull.

  Atlas had turned off the engine.

  Dan’s mouth went dry. He tried to swallow.

  When Atlas turned back toward them, he was holding a gun.

  Singapore

  The tropical heat of Singapore hit Nellie when they were still waiting in line at passport control. Once through the line and into the terminal, they moved through the crush at baggage claim. Sammy scanned the crowd. It had taken them a night and a day to reach Singapore, with stopovers in Los Angeles and Hong Kong, and Nellie felt sleep tugging at her eyelids. All she wanted was a cup of strong coffee. A donut wouldn’t hurt, either.

  “Shouldn’t we find a taxi?” Nellie asked.

  “Won’t need one.”

  Men in dark suits and caps stood on one side, h
olding signs. Sammy found the one that said MOURAD.

  “Have I mentioned that Uncle James is loaded?”

  “Never turn down a chauffeur holding a sign,” Nellie said. “One of my life rules.”

  The chauffeur drove through the city, past office buildings and down lovely boulevards. The roads had been washed by an early morning rain. Glittering tall buildings marched along wide streets. They passed through a business district, and suddenly they were in a quiet neighborhood of beautiful homes.

  The driver turned down a street lined with palm trees. Nellie glimpsed stately homes behind a screen of lush greenery and flowering trees. The driver pulled into a long drive massed with blooming pink and yellow bushes.

  A modern white house was at the end of the drive. A petite young woman stood in front, strikingly pretty in a yellow sleeveless dress, her black hair in a bun. As the car drew up, Nellie could see that woman was older than she appeared, middle-aged and gorgeous.

  As soon as the car stopped, Sammy bounded out and into a hug.

  Tiffany Chen held him at arm’s length. “You get taller every time I see you. How are Darsh and Maya?”

  “Fine, I guess. I haven’t heard from them in a few days. Have you?” Nellie noted the anxiety in Sammy’s voice.

  Tiffany Chen shook her head. “They’re probably spending all their time in the lab. Typical!”

  “Aunt Tiff, I want you to meet Nellie Gomez. Nellie, this is Tiffany Chen.”

  “How do you do, Mrs. Chen,” Nellie said, striving for her most formal manners in the midst of such elegance.

  “Oh, call me Tiff.” Tiff shook Nellie’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends. I’ve heard about you. You’re rather a legend among the Cahills.”

  “Me?” Nellie was taken aback.

  “The fearless Madrigal, Nellie Gomez,” Tiff said. “Feats of incredible bravery. Got shot in the shoulder and the bullet was dug out without anesthetic, basically saved the world with the help of this kid here … Oh yes, Nellie, I’ve heard of you. Now come inside; James is in his office. I know he wants to talk to you two.”

 

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