Order of the Black Sun Box Set 4

by Preston William Child

  Crystal’s phone rang.

  "Oh, it's the salvage crew," she cooed. She jumped up and left the room. Sam stared at her as she vanished into the dark outside the sliding door. Nina watched him intently, amazed at his indifference toward her when Crystal was around. Sam looked spellbound by the lawyer, although he could not see her from where he sat.

  “I have to know,” Nina suddenly said from behind him.

  “What?”

  “What is so bloody fascinating about her?” Nina snapped.

  Sam smiled with that boyish charm that annoyed Nina so much, “Are you jealous, Dr. Gould?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed. “You are still almost hypnotized, even though you can’t even see her out there.”

  Sam whispered, “But I can hear her.”

  “Big deal,” she frowned.

  “No,” he said, “you misunderstand. I am listening to her German conversation.”

  “Sam,” Nina whispered back amusedly, “she is German.”

  The journalist’s dark eyes played on hers for a moment, as if he was studying her. Calmly he sighed, “If her salvage contractors are Egyptian, why is she speaking German to them?”

  Nina felt awfully stupid. “Let me just get my foot out of my mouth before I venture a guess…”

  Sam decided not to milk the delicious moment of victory over the backfiring of Nina’s condescension and simply ran his palm down her arm, an affectionate gesture she secretly enjoyed.

  “So, what is your theory on that phone call?” she asked Sam. “When I first arrived at Wrichtishousis she was on the phone for hours.”

  “I have no idea. Maybe she is taking a personal call from a relative or something,” Sam speculated.

  “Then why did she announce that it was the salvage crew?” Nina asked. Sam thought about it for a moment and looked at Nina. They were onto something, but what was it?

  “Sam!” Dr. Malgas called. “Can I have a word with you, please?”

  “Keep your ears open. You understand German. You can figure out what she says if you get close enough. Let me see what Billy has on his mind,” Sam excused himself.

  “Aye,” she nodded. “Wonder what wisdom he has to share this time.”

  “Be nice,” Sam smiled and winked at her. Nina was adamant. She had to know what Crystal would be so secretive about while Sam joined Billy Malgas on the front porch.

  “Can we take a walk, Sam?” Malgas suggested.

  "Aye, sure," Sam answered. "You seem incredibly tense for someone who is about to make a historical discovery, Billy.”

  “That is what I wanted to talk about, actually,” Billy said anxiously, pulling Sam out on the street, where only the pale white orbs of the lamps could witness their conversation.

  “Oh, okay,” Sam frowned. “If this has something to do with what was said during that argument…”

  "Please, Sam. Allow me to explain. This is weighing heavily on my conscience, and I need your advice. I have been waiting for a moment to discuss this with you… why I initially called you,” Billy started. His voice croaked like a tired old man’s, giving Sam a foreboding feeling he could not shake.

  But before the conversation could go any further, the two men were distracted by a ruckus in the neighborhood. Three voices echoed angrily in the usually quiet street.

  “I know that voice,” Billy exclaimed. “That’s Cheryl, Sam. It sounds like she is in trouble!”

  Cheryl was being jerked around by her arms. Two men were trying to push her into a vehicle, but she was putting up a massive fight. Her screams for help were muffled by a thick, powerful hand over her face by the large man restraining her as she kicked out wildly. As Sam and Billy rushed to her aid the other man punched her hard in the face, rendering her unconscious.

  “Hey!” Sam shouted, tackling the brute who had punched her. While Sam was scuffling with him, Zain and Sibu came running, having heard the commotion from the house. They quickly subdued the attackers, but Billy insisted on knowing what was going on.

  “Who are you?” Billy growled at the man Sibu was holding. “What do you want from Cheryl?”

  “None of your bloody business!” the man replied, pinching his broken nose as Sibu pushed his head into the sand among the short grass with his knee. Purdue came running along with the neighbors.

  “You had better tell me or I’ll let Sibu use you for target practice, you bastard!” Malgas sneered angrily.

  “I’m her dealer, for fuck’s sake! I’m her dealer!” he told them. Suddenly Billy’s face sank. His rage turned to disappointment as he got up from his knees, dusting off his jeans.

  “She is still doing drugs?” he asked Zain and Sibu. Zain nodded, “Yes, more than ever.” He deliberately told Malgas in front of Purdue and Sam, to eliminate her from the equation. They would never allow a strung up junkie on their excursion and would leave him with less to worry about. After all, he did not need her anymore.

  Together with a kind neighbor who had offered his help, Billy Malgas escorted Cheryl to the hospital to tend to the cut above her eye. The hospital also had a rehabilitation program for drug addicts he intended to commit her to. Sam went back to the house with Purdue at his side.

  “I can’t believe it,” Purdue sighed. “You alright?”

  “Can we just get on the bloody ocean already?” Sam begged.

  "Funny you should say that," Purdue smiled. "Crystal just informed me that the salvage tugboat has arrived a few nautical miles out that way." He smiled eagerly, pointing to the eastern horizon. "All I have to do is get on the tug and from there we can nudge the wreck a few more meters. It is virtually a stone's throw from the edge of the 12-mile-zone, obscure as it might be.”

  “So we’ll be in a nutshell on those demon waves while you are fiddling with that gadget of yours again? Are you high? What if the tug capsizes?” Sam scowled. “You know, sometimes your genius is seriously questionable.”

  “No, Sam. I may be reckless, but I’m not stupid,” Purdue retorted calmly, looking up at the beach house as they passed through the gate. Sam could not help but wonder what Malgas had wanted to tell him. Crystal, Nina, and Mieke were packing everything up for the harrowing trip ahead to reach the salvage tug that was waiting for them in international waters.

  “Cheryl and Dr. Malgas will not be joining us on the trip,” Purdue informed them, followed by the two security advisors who nursed the skin over their knuckles with some ice from the freezer.

  “My God, Sam!” Nina shouted inadvertently at the sight of Sam’s bloody mouth and nose. She instantly realized that she was not supposed to care, when Crystal was already checking his cuts.

  “I have just the thing to fix you right up, Liebling. Come,” Crystal urged him. She took him by the hand and dragged him to the upstairs bathroom with her. When she closed the door to be alone with Sam, Nina felt a nauseating twist in her innards. Reflexively she turned her attention to Purdue and decided to keep to his company from now on.

  25

  Welcome Aboard

  The next morning was overcast. Out on the sea, the bizarre occurrence had returned, but with Purdue’s new configuration the disturbances caused by magnetic waves were less conspicuous and certainly far less destructive. He was concerned that his locator may have been unable to establish the precise location of the wreck. Purdue found it increasingly peculiar that his sonar would occasionally report no object at all at the very spot the wreck had been detected a moment before.

  “I am dumbfounded by the wreck disappearing every now and then,” Purdue mumbled behind his hand. His chin was resting on his palm as he leaned on the table, studying the oddity and considering every scientific theory he could summon to try and solve the conundrum.

  “Maybe your magnetic waves are interfering with your sonar,” Nina suggested as she sank on the sofa next to him. The rest of the group was preparing to leave, so she had come to help him. “We can figure all that out on the boat. We have to go.”

  “I kno
w. I know,” he sighed. Purdue loathed admitting defeat when he couldn’t solve a scientific puzzle. With his knowledge of sound waves and frequencies, radar, sonar and the like, he expected to have at least some inkling of what caused the ship to disappear. But he was at a loss. He accompanied Nina onto the yacht he had hired to take them out to sea, courtesy of a local who was kind enough to go out this early and dumb enough not to ask why.

  The yacht crashed down over each crest of white foam thrashing to the next wave as they were heading towards the edge of territorial waters. Sam and Crystal were keeping the skipper company while the security advisors seemed to be engaged in an argument over football scores. Nina held fast onto the steel railing next to the bench she sat on, trying to keep steady in the fierce rolling of the vessel. Mieke did the same, regretting that she had agreed to come on the trip to represent Dr. Malgas.

  "Ewww," she winced as she caught sight of Sibu vomiting over the side, pale as a sheet from seasickness.

  “Oh dear,” Purdue howled. “I hope he is the only one affected to such an extent. How are you feeling, Nina?” He smiled, knowing that he was going to get one of her looks again.

  “Oh, I am just dandy, thank you,” she snapped, clinging to the handle and Purdue’s arm at the same time. He remembered something she had said before they had left the land, something that made more sense than she would have guessed.

  “Nina, you said my sonar was disturbed by the EMR I used to induce the seismic activity, right?” he asked suddenly.

  “Aye,” she answered, “but remember that I know very little about physics, Dave. It was a guess at best.”

  No, I think you might have a point," he reassured her. "It could be that the ship is made of some material that makes it hard to locate by sonar."

  Nina's dark eyes looked up at the churning gray skies as the wind whipped her thick brunette tresses across her delicate features. She was deep in thought, trying to recall something she had read about any stealth ship.

  “Wait,” she said, resting her hand on Purdue’s leg while she still stared at the clouds. “During the Second World War, the Kriegsmarine had come up with a way for submarines to go unnoticed by deflecting or absorbing the pings of the enemy’s sonar with some kind of coating. Damn, I can’t remember what it was called exactly, but they made tiles of it that they fixed to the metal of the hull.”

  “What was this material? Can you remember?” He asked, intrigued. “Crystal!”

  Crystal left Sam with the skipper and joined Purdue and Nina. “Yes?”

  “When you and Sam were diving to survey the wreck, did you notice anything unusual about the surface of the hull?” Purdue inquired.

  Crystal shook her head. “Nope. As far as I could tell it was steel, bolted sheeting and a great deal of rust. Why?”

  “Oppanol!” Nina cried, startling her companions. “Sorry. Oppanol. That is what they used.”

  “What the hell is Oppanol?”

  “Ah!” Purdue exclaimed. “It’s a synthetic rubber.”

  “Okay, well, they fixed that to the hulls and found that it diminished the ability of sonar waves to effectively echo back from the material, weakening the signal,” Nina relayed what she remembered from the experiment.

  “I wonder if that could be why ever once in a while the ship doesn’t register on my locator,” Purdue frowned. Crystal fought to keep her footing on the wet deck and sat down next to Purdue. She looked at Nina. “Did they use the rubber on submarines, you say, Nina?”

  “Aye.”

  She looked at Purdue. “But why would they have used it on a battleship? Sonar was not used to locate above surface vessels, as far as I know."

  Purdue and Nina did not respond yet. Both mulled over Crystal’s observation.

  Purdue sighed, clearly frustrated. “There goes that theory.”

  “What is the problem? We know where the bloody thing is. We don’t need to worry why the computer could not find it,” Crystal shrugged.

  “Still,” Purdue persisted with a slight trace of disappointment, “I would have liked to know why, so that I could rework my technology, see?”

  “Aye, but Crystal is right. Let’s not dwell on that when it is not relevant right now,” Nina suggested, raising her voice against the hiss of the ocean.

  Sam shouted from the starboard side, pointing at something, directing their eyes. When they followed his line of sight, they saw what they had been waiting for. Behind another wave trough, the salvage tug appeared, evoking a cheer from the group.

  On the side, the name introduced the tug in both Latin and Arabic script, one above the other—

  ALEAYN YAM – Safaga

  قضية يام - سفاجا

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our home for the next week!” Crystal smiled.

  The tempestuous blue made boarding and transshipping of the equipment a challenging feat for everyone, but finally, the complete salvage crew was on the tug. Introductions were like a scene from biblical Babel, with so many accents all speaking English.

  “Are salvage crews always so ill-prepared?” Nina asked Purdue. “They don’t seem to be very comfortable handling the equipment.”

  “I don’t know. I have never worked in marine salvage before. To tell you the truth, I usually just recover what's in the wrecks…never bothered to bring one up before,” Purdue said matter-of-factly.

  “How was your trip down here, Ali?” Crystal asked.

  “Very good, Mrs. Meyer,” the ebony skeleton-like captain smiled. “It is good to finally have you on board. We are going to make a lot of money.”

  Behind him, his crew stood in silence, looking rather awkward. Their nature did not transpire outright, but Sam did not like the way they looked. He could not put his finger on it, but the gaunt men with their bloodshot eyes definitely did not strike him as very diligent in their duties. To this day, his instincts as an investigative journalist had never misled him. Then again, he thought, he was not familiar with this vocation and dismissed his suspicions as paranoia due to literally feeling out of his depth.

  Sam felt lost at sea, at the mercy of others for the next few days and perhaps he had a touch of cabin fever among all the strangers. He felt generally depressed and did not know why.

  He watched Nina and Purdue follow Crystal and Ali into the superstructure, where he showed them their cabins. Something nudged him from behind. It was Sibu, looking very pale for a black man with Zain by his side who was supporting him. “What’s wrong, Mr. Cleave?” Zain asked. His inquiry was not sympathetic, but instead held some form of common understanding.

  “Nothing, I suppose,” Sam answered as he started moving carrying his large canvas bag and his equipment case. With the two security guards in tow, he marched into the mess hall, keenly watched by the crew members who were talking about the newcomers on the quiet. “I just have a strange, uncomfortable feeling about all this.”

  Sibu belched, threatening to throw up, but he contained the urge while Zain paid him no mind. He dragged his associate to catch up with Sam and kept his voice low.

  “I have that same feeling, Mr. Cleave. Maybe it is my, uh, training, but these men seem a little scruffy to be salvage divers and engineers.”

  Astonished, Sam faced Zain. "Christ, so I am not paranoid?" he gasped under his breath. "It's not just me, then." Zain shook his head. Sam whispered, "Well, let's keep our feelings to ourselves for now and see where this goes. But be on your toes, lads."

  “Vigilance is our game, Mr. Cleave,” Zain assured Sam.

  “Good. I have a feeling we’re going to need it,” Sam replied. He had made up his mind to keep his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. He walked past Ali with a fake smile and hoped that the captain would pay more attention to the seasick man behind him.

  “Here Sam,” Crystal smiled. “Your cabin.”

  "Thanks, Crystal," he winked with his usual charm, but in his peripheral vision, he noticed Nina watching.

  “We will have lunch soon,” Ali smiled.
“In the meantime I suggest you settle in and after lunch we can get started on locating the wreck so that we can prepare for the salvage, eh?”

  The group collectively agreed and took to their rooms to unpack. Ali returned on deck and pulled Manni aside. The sea had settled as much as they had hoped for by now. Obviously, Purdue had stopped using his science fiction device for now and left nature to move at her own pace. Manni was busy checking the drills and welding equipment, making sure that there was enough sheeting to patch the bulkheads if need be. He was not an engineer, but he had previous experience working on large vessels in Mogadishu and Dar es Salaam before he moved to Mumbai when he had been a young sailor of twenty-four. In those days, he had still imagined himself as the great captain of a commercial vessel, but then his life had fallen apart, and he had been forced into illegal activities. Spiraling lower and lower as the years had worn on he finally had become a slave trader, trafficker, and pirate, but he had sworn to himself to stop one day when piracy had made him a rich man; rich enough to buy his own boat.

  “They are settling in, poor idiots,” Ali said evenly as he offered Manni a joint. “We’ll bring up that ship and tow it to Xafuun. Meyer and her people will think we are taking it to Egypt. There we can sell them off or get ransom,” he declared, sucking in the smoke before handing Manni the joint.

  “They won’t suspect anything? I mean they can probably tell that we are not Egyptians,” Manni asked with concern that they would be discovered before the right time.

  “I fixed that already. As long as their people stay away from the bridge, they won’t find out that Fakur’s office manager has reported this ship and her crew missing yesterday. And we have disabled the automatic direction finder and the satellite antennas, and no cell phone or radio is going to work unless I connect the diverter," Ali revealed to his right-hand man.

  “And the Egyptian crew?” Manni asked to make sure their stories meshed.

  “I told Meyer I was the first mate,” he laughed in jest. “I told her Fakur and his brother sent me to take their place because they had a funeral to go to in Algeria!” His cackling laughter sounded like that of a witch. “And it’s not that untrue, Manni, isn’t it?”