Dragon's Triangle (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 2)

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Dragon's Triangle (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 2) Page 18

by Christine Kling


  The man’s words snapped him out of it. The girl, her body—both were less interesting, knowing that God had not made them.

  “You said on the phone that we needed to talk,” Elijah said.

  “Yeah.” The man drank off the last of the amber liquid and set his glass down hard. “I want to know what the fuck is going on.”

  Suzie returned with Elijah’s drink and both men grew silent as they watched her approach. She stood farther away from the table than was necessary just so she had to bend over and reach to place the glass in front of Elijah. When she turned to leave, Elijah took a mouthful of the drink. The whiskey was already watery.

  “We’ve run into a few problems,” Elijah said.

  “I don’t care about your problems. What I want is results.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Do you?”

  Elijah didn’t answer.

  “I’ve set up a meeting for next Monday.”

  “With who?”

  “It’s our buyer. He’s intrigued by you.”

  “Me?”

  “You know these foreigners. They’re intrigued by the mystique of the American West, the Gold Rush. He wants to meet you, so I’ve set the meeting at your ranch.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s only six days off. Our man from the Company wants to sit in. They like to keep tabs on what we’re up to. You know those Clandestine Services guys don’t like surprises. They expect our guy to report on this Dragon’s Triangle deal. We’ll decide what we want them to know. How close are you?”

  Elijah considered the option of telling the truth about losing the documents, then rejected it. “The translation is proving to be more difficult than we expected. It’s wiser to get an exact latitude and longitude before sending a team up to Aparri. It will save us time and money in the long run.”

  “We’re having to dip into our reserves right now, Hawkes. That damn Karzai expects us to show up every week with a bigger and bigger payoff and the whole Arab Spring mess is costing us a fortune.”

  “I understand that.”

  “I hope you do. You’ve done good work. Until you figured it out, we had plenty of gold in the Philippines, but it took forever to introduce it into the world market. We couldn’t risk having any of these Asian countries asking for their gold back. It was brilliant. When you brought this Dragon’s Triangle thing to us, you made it sound like a sure thing. A win-win. People have made financial and political decisions based on our belief that you, Hawkes, are a sure thing. You’ve always paid off for us in the past, and you’ve made yourself rich in the process.”

  “Yes, thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t make us regret our confidence in you.”

  “I won’t. You can count on that.”

  Black slid out of the booth and stood. “I’ll see you at your place, then. I’ll text you the details. Good night.”

  “Good night, Mr. Black.”

  Subic Bay, Luzon

  The Philippines

  November 19, 2012

  Cole’s taxi pulled up to the gates of the Subic Bay Freeport Zone and the guard on the gate waved them through like the guards always did. Cole wondered for the umpteenth time what purpose the gate served. It seemed that after all those years of having the US Navy operating a massive base here, when it reverted to the Philippines in 1992, they didn’t know how to stop guarding the place. Since lots of expat Americans lived inside the Zone, Cole figured they’d lobbied to turn it into a very large gated community to keep the local riffraff out.

  The taxi turned in to the parking lot outside Gama’s Resort and Dive Center. Cole hopped out and paid the driver. His only luggage was the small duffel he had thrown in the backseat.

  Walking into Gama’s through the arched colonial-style doors, past the cannons and figureheads and glass cases full of marine artifacts, felt like coming home. He had used the site as his home base for almost two years now, and Cole was delighted he had been able to stop running at last and get back to work. And at Gama’s, he had found kindred spirits.

  Brian, the owner, was sitting in his usual spot at the end of the bar. Behind him, across the terrace covered with dining tables, was a view of the deep blue waters of Subic Bay, where several freighters rested at anchor. Brian raised his right hand with his signature cigarette clutched between two fingers. “John, my boy! I knew you’d make it in time for happy hour!”

  The other fellows round the bar laughed. They were mostly American expats, Vietnam vets who’d spent time in and out of Subic or Clark, then came back after the war, married Filipinas, and settled here.

  For the first time in a long time, his alias name sounded odd to him. For two days with Riley, he had been Cole again and it felt good. He nodded to the group of regulars and patted Brian on the back. “A cold beer sounds good. It’s taken me all day to get home.”

  “Theo told us you were coming back today.”

  The bartender set a bottle of San Miguel in front of Cole. The cold beer washed away some of the dust from the long bus ride up from Manila. “You seen Theo around much while I was gone?”

  “Yeah, he’s ashore now, helping Greg out back in the dive shop.”

  “Greg?” Cole said. He thought he knew everyone who worked in the dive center.

  “New hire. I had to let Jack go. It’s a problem finding sober help here in Subic. Lucked out this time. Great mechanic.”

  “You got that right. I lucked out with Theo, that’s for sure. He knows engines and electronics.”

  “Yeah, well I think Greg’s pulling a Tom Sawyer number on your friend. I asked Greg to build us an ROV of our own, but I think Theo’s the one doing most of the work.”

  Cole smiled. “That’s all right. He loves it.”

  “You have a good trip?”

  Cole paused before answering. These men knew him only as John Jones, an American entrepreneur who had made a living in the dive shop business and sold out to dive his way around the world. He had to watch what he said. “You could say that. It was certainly full of surprises.”

  “Hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to be moving on to better diving grounds soon.” Brian ground out his cigarette in the full ashtray on the bar. “Leastwise not until Greg’s finished the ROV.”

  The men round the bar all laughed again. Brian offered drinks on the house often enough to be sure of a good reception for all his jokes.

  Cole stood and fished out his wallet. Brian waved his hand in the air. “No, no. Theo’s paid for that one.” He winked.

  “Thanks,” Cole said. “I’ll head out to the dive shop and see what the boys’re up to.” The guys at the bar roared with laughter again. Cole reckoned they were all way past happy hour.

  He didn’t have to go far to find Theo. Gama’s was part hotel, part wreck-diving museum, part restaurant and bar—but the heart of the place was in the dive shop. When Brian arrived in Subic Bay just after the Americans pulled out, he’d bought this property and moved his diving business up from Puerto Galera. In the past twenty years, he’d been a part of all the most successful underwater archaeological finds, including the wreck of the galleon San Diego, lost in 1600, whose artifacts were in a spectacular display at the Philippines National Museum.

  Cole paused in the doorway of the dive shop and watched. Theo was seated on a stool alongside the workbench, which ran the length of the shop. His laptop was on the bench to his left and on the right was a pile of parts—circuit boards, pumps, batteries, and motors. Several of those tiny new HD video cameras in their waterproof housings all the divers were using these days were scattered on the workbench.

  Theo was alone, except for Princess Leia, his three-year-old yellow Lab. She rested on the cool concrete floor at the base of his stool. The metal handle of her guide dog harness was folded down across her back.

  Theo raised his chin and half turned toward the door. He wore dark Ray-Ban shades. “Is that you John-Boy?” he said.

  “If you’re supposed to be Jim-Bob Walt
on, your skin’s the wrong color.”

  “Hey mon, skin color means nothing to me.” Theo started rocking back and forth on the bench. “Just call me BB Spencer. That’s Black and Blind.”

  Cole chuckled. “You are a trip, Theo.”

  Theo said, “Welcome back, boss. We’re just finishing up here.” He swung back around to face the workbench and rested his hand on his Braille reader.

  Whenever he had time to watch Theo work, Cole was amazed at how well his friend had adapted to his situation. He was always so upbeat and positive. During that first year, he had jumped right in, using his computers and all these adaptive technologies to teach himself Braille and get himself onto the list for a guide dog. Theo had told Cole close to a hundred times that his blindness wasn’t Cole’s fault. But hearing him say that didn’t take away the guilt. If Cole hadn’t sent him to the bank that day in Grand Cayman, Theo would not be blind today.

  It appeared the world had accepted the death of Cole Thatcher. Theo had become the captain of Shadow Chaser and Cole posed as the ship’s deckhand. They stayed off the radar as much as possible, anchoring in remote locations.

  About six months after Surcouf had slid into the trench, they had recovered more than two thousand French Angel coins from the wreck, thanks to Henri Michaut’s knowledge of the sub, and Theo’s incredible design of a deepwater ROV. Theo had concocted a cover story about shooting videos of dolphins with the ROV off the islands. That was how they found themselves cruising around with, at current market value, more than a million and a half in gold aboard Shadow Chaser.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Cole decided the safest place for the gold would be in one of the offshore banks located in the Cayman Islands. Theo had just returned from France, where he had left Riley with the clues that they hoped would direct her to Grand Cayman. The plan was to meet up there.

  Cole didn’t want to risk entering a major bank where video cameras were the norm. That was why he sent Theo into Georgetown with two hundred coins to test out the situation. The bank welcomed him with open arms. Theo returned to the boat with a gold bearer bond for $188,000. Two days later, Theo returned to the bank with the intention of opening a safety deposit box, but the same banker who had taken his gold now claimed he’d never seen Theo before. When Theo insisted, the banker grew belligerent. Theo showed him the certificate and the banker claimed it was a forgery. After making quite a scene, Theo left and it was when he was walking in front of an alley on his way back to the harbor that someone pulled him into the shadows.

  He never got a look at them. They almost beat him to death. They had clubs of some sort. He knew the blows weren’t coming from fists.

  A passerby noticed the dark form on the ground in the shadows. As the Good Samaritan approached, he stepped in blood. The man used his cell phone to call the police and they rushed Theo to the Cayman Islands Hospital in Georgetown. He had a broken arm, several broken ribs, a broken nose, but worst of all was the swelling on his brain. He was in a coma for four days. When he finally awoke, he could not see.

  At first there was hope that once the swelling subsided, Theo would get his sight back. The doctors wanted to keep him in the hospital for several weeks. But the problem was the local police kept coming around and questioning him, trying to get more information about his attackers. Cole wasn’t certain the police were really investigating the crime, or whether they were in cahoots with the bank that had just stolen their gold. They wanted to know what Theo remembered of the incident, and Cole told Theo to remember nothing. Four days after he awoke, Cole slipped Theo out of the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. He had a cab waiting outside and he told the driver to take them to the Barcadere Marina. Within the hour, Shadow Chaser put to sea and Cole vowed he would find out who was behind the attack on Theo and the theft of their gold, and he would make them pay.

  They fled to the Río Dulce in Guatemala, and far up in the jungle, they found an old boatyard with a marine railway. The yard’s owner hadn’t had any business in a while, and he was drunk every day by noon. They settled in, sobered up the owner, hauled the boat, and went to work. While Theo recuperated, Cole modified Shadow Chaser, changing her superstructure, repainting her, and renaming her the Bonhomme Richard.

  Meanwhile, as Theo grew stronger and his bones mended, his sight did not improve, but his spirits did. He figured out how to make his computer speak the text on the screen, and with the weak local cellular Internet Theo was soon back to his old self. At night when Cole was finished working on the boat, the two of them began their online search for those responsible for the events in the Cayman Islands.

  That was when they discovered the Black Eagle Trust and the Enterprise.

  “Hey, Greg,” Theo shouted, “you fall in and drown?” He chuckled. “Now that would be funny. A dive master drowning in the toilet.”

  Cole heard the sound of a toilet flushing and a door opened in the back of the shop. A young Filipina woman wearing very short nylon shorts and an overflowing sports bra stepped through the door and walked barefoot across the concrete floor toward them. She had a tribal tattoo on one bicep and Cole saw the glint of some sort of piercing in her navel.

  Cole spoke softly. “Uh, Theo, I don’t think that looks like Greg.”

  The girl wore her long black hair in a braid that fell over her shoulder when she bent down to pat Princess Leia.

  Theo’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. “So, tell me, skipper. What does Greg look like? I’m a blind man and I keep telling her that I see with my fingers, but she won’t let me touch her.”

  The girl punched Theo in the shoulder.

  “Ouch!” he said. “Skipper, I’d like to introduce you to Gregoria Santos—Brian’s new mechanic and dive master.”

  “Uh,” Cole said as he looked from Theo to the stunning young woman.

  She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. Theo has told me lots about you.” She spoke in a strong alto voice with very little accent.

  He was surprised at the strength in her grip, and he saw the spark of challenge in her eyes. This was not someone he should underestimate.

  “Uh, nice to meet you, Greg. I, uh, hear you are a welcome addition here at Gama’s.”

  “Brian’s mostly glad I don’t drink, and I can keep the dive boat and the compressors running.”

  “And get this,” Theo said. “She rides a Kawasaki crotch rocket to work and she won’t even let me take it for a spin.”

  “Smart woman,” Cole said.

  Theo slapped his palms down on his thighs. “Greg, I think my skipper wants to get out to the boat. He’s been traveling all day.” Theo felt around the workbench for his laptop bag and began packing up his computer and his Bluetooth Braille reader and keyboard.

  Greg shot Cole a look. “You’re lucky to have this guy. He’s brilliant at designing these ROVs.”

  “Hey, that’s not all he can design. You should see his work space on the boat. One time he even designed a machine for peeling pineapples.”

  “So I like pineapple,” Theo said. He slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and said, “Leia, let’s go.” The yellow Lab at his feet stood up and brushed against the side of his leg. Theo grabbed the metal bar attached to her harness and said, “Let’s go to the dinghy.” He raised his hand and waved. “Later, Greg.”

  Cole shouted, “See you tomorrow, Brian!” as they passed the side of the dining room and went down to the wharf where the Boston Whaler was tied up.

  As they climbed into the dinghy and settled themselves for the ride out to the boat, Cole said, “Do you have any idea how hot that woman is?”

  “Yeah. We blind guys can measure how hot a woman is by the way other guys stutter when they meet them. You just proved she’s at the top of the stutter scale.”

  The noise of the outboard prevented conversation on the way out to the boat, but once aboard, they settled in the galley and Theo started a pot of coffee. He set a fresh bowl of water down for Leia, and then
slid onto one of the bench seats at the Formica table.

  “So, Riley. How is she? How did she take it?”

  “I don’t know. The fact that she left me in the middle of the night gives me a clue she’s not all that happy with me.”

  “Wow. You figured that out all by yourself, did you?”

  “I wish you could see the look I’m giving you.”

  “Sometimes I consider my condition a blessing. So, what happened over there in Thailand? What made you decide to show yourself to Riley this time?”

  “Okay. You know about what she wrote on her blog. How she was contacted by this guy?”

  “Yeah, some old guy who said he was a friend of her grandfather’s. Peewee. She was supposed to meet him in Bangkok.”

  “She did. She met with him and all hell broke loose.” Cole told Theo about Benny, the blowgun, and Peewee’s story about the USS Bonefish in the Philippines.

  “So this Peewee guy wanted her to have those documents in some Tibetan gold prayer thing. He just gave them to her?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “Theo, I’ve been puzzling over that all day.”

  “Those pages with the odd-looking hieroglyphs—you do realize what they are?”

  “I know what I hope they are.”

  “You’re right. One page is a key of some sort. I think the other is a map that we’ll figure out using that key.”

  “And the letter?”

  “It says the Teiyō Maru was sunk by US bombers in the Babuyan Islands to the north of Luzon. That’s a pretty big area, but I’m hoping the map will give us the exact location.”

  “Do you think it’s legit? It’s not some forgery made by a Filipino looking to score big off some treasure hunter?”

  “No, Cole, I think it’s the real thing. I had Brian help me run some tests on the paper of that letter, and we compared it to other letters from the Japanese military here in Luzon during the same period. It’s a match.”

  “Well, they say the Dragon’s Triangle stretches from north of the Philippines up to Japan. The Babuyan Islands would be inside the tip of that triangle.”

 

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