Wrath of Poseidon

by Clive Cussler

Sam drew the little Smith & Wesson, holding it in front of him. A moment later, five men came down the trail below them, two leading pack mules loaded with full sacks of olives.

  When they disappeared from view, Remi leaned in close to him, whispering, “What are we waiting for?”

  “Making sure no one else is following.”

  He set his gun on the dirt in front of him, then took out his binoculars, focusing on the beaten path. Their higher position made it easier to see exactly where Dimitris and Zoe had left the trail. Their tracks reemerged about thirty yards beyond that point—something they wouldn’t have seen from the ground. “Those men are going in the same direction we need to go.”

  “We’re going to wait longer?”

  “Just a bit.” A few minutes later, a steady stream of men leading pack mules followed the first group.

  The sun beat down on their backs, and Remi shifted, wiping the dust and perspiration from her brow. “Not quite what I pictured when I booked this trip.”

  “I could think of worse ways to spend the afternoon.”

  “Really? Name one.”

  “How about being cooped up in a cubicle?”

  “At least the cubicle I work in has air-conditioning. I count that as a plus right now.”

  “So, camping is out?”

  “Unless you’re pitching a tent with hot and cold running water, carpeting, and electricity, I’m definitely out. Honestly, what’s the appeal of sleeping in a bag with zippers on the hard ground?”

  “You realize all sleeping bags have zippers?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “Trying to figure out why anyone finds camping appealing.”

  “It’s the totality of the experience, and the company. Especially the company.” He glanced over at her. “Being in the outdoors, listening to the rustle of the breeze through the trees, the birds singing, the blue sky above. The beautiful girl beside me . . .” Unable to resist, he leaned forward and kissed her.

  When she didn’t object, he moved in for a second kiss. She suddenly stiffened, pulling back. “Sam . . .”

  “Not quite the reaction I expected.”

  “Not you. That.”

  Her gaze was on a rather long scorpion crawling out from beneath a rock very close to her right arm. He used the binoculars to flick the insect down the hill. “Nothing to it. At least the great outdoors has a way of letting you know what’s dangerous and what isn’t.”

  “Maybe you should be carrying a flamethrower instead of a gun.”

  “Some of the worst scorpions in the world look like ordinary human beings.”

  She eyed the rock as though expecting another scorpion to come crawling out. “I don’t suppose it’s safe to move?”

  “I think we’re good,” he said. Rising, he picked up and holstered his gun, then he offered his hand and helped Remi to her feet. They were almost to the bottom when he heard something in the brush on the other side of the trail to their left. He glanced in that direction, then held out his arm, stopping Remi in her tracks. “Remember when I said there were worse things to worry about than snakes?” He nodded down the trail. “That would be one of them.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  A huge brown boar snuffed through the dried brush. Alongside her, four striped piglets pushed at the dirt with their little snouts. Sam took Remi by the hand and slowly moved her away from the trail.

  She craned her head around to look back at them as Sam led her away from the path, making a wide berth around the boar family. “Look at all those cute babies.”

  “They’re cute, until four hundred pounds of mama’s pure muscle decides you’re a threat.”

  When Sam drew his gun, Remi’s breath caught. “You can’t kill a mama pig.”

  “Trust me. This is only a last resort. I’d rather not give up our position.”

  The expression in her eyes, when she glanced at the weapon, surprised him. “You don’t really think you’ll have to use the gun, do you? I thought we were just going in to find Dimitris and Zoe and bring them back.”

  “Exactly what I was planning on.” When he saw a shadow of indecision cross her face, he added, “I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. There’s still time to go back. Nikos will undoubtedly appreciate your company if you want to return to the boat.”

  Since it’d be faster for him and safer for her if she did go back he hoped she’d say yes.

  She looked at him for several long seconds, clearly wrestling with the idea, but shook her head. “I want to help find Dimitris and Zoe and bring them home.”

  He couldn’t help but feel pride in her spirit and gumption. “Stay close, then.” The trail started winding its way up a steep hill covered with ancient olive trees, their limbs heavy with fruit. The sun angled through the branches swaying with the breeze, casting moving shadows on the ground that made it difficult to distinguish Dimitris’s and Zoe’s footprints from the harvesters and mules that had trampled across them on the hard earth. Sam crouched to take a better look at the footprints, wondering why the young couple would risk coming here on their own. “Tell me about Zoe’s grandfather. Maybe if we can figure out why he was killed, it might tell us what Adrian is after. Did you ever meet Tassos?”

  “No. At the post office the morning we were kidnapped, Zoe asked Dimitris if he’d seen her grandfather. So much has happened since then, I’d sort of put that whole conversation behind me.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Zoe was concerned because her grandfather had been acting oddly leading up to that morning. And said he was excited about a job that was supposed to bring in a lot of money.”

  “What sort of job?”

  “I have no idea. But Zoe thought he’d gone off to look for something called Poseidon’s Trident. I remember Dimitris saying it was an old fisherman’s tale about pirates.”

  “Pirates?” he said, losing sight of their tracks again. Hoping that the pair were headed in the same direction as the harvesters, there was little Sam could do at this point but follow the main trail.

  “And treasure. But you know that from the funeral and all the stories. Everyone assumes Tassos died looking for treasure.”

  Sam glanced over at her, surprised. “Exactly what was said about the treasure part?”

  “Honestly, it was all rather harmless. You heard it just like I did. Tassos was always searching for gold. I gathered that everyone but Tassos thought the Poseidon’s Trident thing was just a tall tale.”

  “Clearly not that tall of a tale,” Sam said, looking down at the path again. “Not if Adrian went to the trouble of killing him.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. The police searched that cave after they recovered his body. Why kill him if there wasn’t any treasure?”

  “How do we know there wasn’t any—?”

  A mule brayed somewhere to the north of them. Not wanting to get too close to the harvesters, Sam motioned Remi to follow. Keeping low, they made their way to the top of the next hill. Beyond it, a cliff overlooked a deep gorge, which opened into a narrow valley on their right, where the late-afternoon sun shimmered on the rooftops of a few buildings in the distance. On the opposite side of the gorge, which was lower in elevation, olive trees grew as far as the eye could see.

  Sam took out his binoculars, and moved to the edge of the cliff. Seeing the layout from up here made him understand why Dimitris chose the south side of the island to make his entry. The bulk of the orchard grew to the north of the gorge, but the processing facility and port for shipping the olives was down through the valley to the east. The terrain was rugged, the paths from the orchard to the valley below far too steep for anything other than pack mules to carry the harvest down.

  In the compound, an empty flatbed truck was backed up to the loading dock of one of the buildings, probably what
they used to transport any shipments to the port for distribution. Other than the one truck and a forklift used to move pallets of shipping containers, he didn’t see any other vehicles—or any need for one, since there was only the single gravel road that led from the buildings to the port.

  Sam turned back to the orchard across the gorge, where a movement in the trees caught his attention. Dozens of workers, some leading pack mules loaded with sacks of olives, were picking their way down the steep trail into the gorge. Sam searched the faces of the men and women, relieved when he saw Zoe and Dimitris. “I found them.”

  “Where?” Remi asked, crouching next to him.

  “Across the gorge.” He handed her the binoculars. “See the pack mules heading down that trail? At the end of the line.”

  “How’d we miss them? They can’t have been with the workers that just passed us.”

  “Definitely not. Zoe and Dimitris had a big head start.” He pointed to their left. “The workers we saw are still on this side of the gorge. You can see them through the trees.”

  She looked, about to comment, when her sat phone buzzed. She handed Sam the binoculars, then pulled the device from her pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Selma.”

  “Not the best time or place for a conversation. What about not being seen or heard? Hang up.”

  “I haven’t even answered.”

  “Which makes it even easier.”

  “And what if it’s something important?”

  “She’ll call back.”

  “And then we’re exactly where we started.”

  Sam took the phone from Remi and moved farther from the trail, behind a boulder and some thick brush.

  “Mr. Fargo,” Selma said when he answered. “Thank goodness I caught you. Special Agent Haywood has been trying to reach you. There’s a bit of an issue with the Kyrils.”

  “What sort of issue?”

  The sat phone went flying as Remi crawled her way into the scrub after Sam, trying to wedge in next to him. Sam caught the phone before it hit the ground, then put it back to his ear, while Remi leaned in close so that she could hear, as well.

  “We’re back,” Sam said.

  “I didn’t know you were gone. Hold on.” They heard a click.

  “Fargo,” Rube said. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

  “There’s no service on this island.”

  “For good reason. You need to get out of there. Now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Are you somewhere you can talk?” Rube asked.

  Sam glanced down the side of the cliff, then at Remi, who was sitting next to him as he held the phone between them. “Good enough place as any. But we’ll need to cut to the core. We’re sort of out in the open, where I’d rather not be.”

  “I guess I don’t want to ask. Okay, I’ll start at the beginning. We’re talking several decades ago. In the early seventies, a Nazi war criminal, Admiral Erich Heibert, assumed the identity of one Bruno von Till, turning Minerva Lines into one of the largest heroin smuggling operations in the Mediterranean.”

  “Heibert. Minerva Lines,” Sam said, not sure where Rube was going with this. “I’m assuming this has something to do with the Kyrils?”

  “It does. Admiral Heibert, aka von Till, died without issue. His brother, Kurt, who died in World War I, had a son who was very close to his uncle, and was believed to have actually interned at Minerva Lines, presumably years before the drug smuggling started. He eventually left to start his own shipping company, Heibert Lines. Long story short, he had a son, who then had a daughter, Minerva Heibert.”

  “Coincidentally named after this defunct shipping line? Or a nod to it?”

  “So it seems. In fact, you’ve met Minerva’s son. Adrian Kyril.”

  “Any chance there’s a condensed version of this family saga?”

  “I wish there was,” Rube said. “I’ve been in touch with Interpol. The past connection to von Till wasn’t lost on them. They’ve been looking at Heibert Lines for a while. Apparently, they received intel that Heibert Lines has been picking up the slack in the heroin market. Thing is, they don’t know how it’s being smuggled in or out. Way back when, Minerva Lines used drone subs. That’s not the case here. Whatever the Kyrils are doing to get drugs out, they’re making it look like a legit operation.”

  Sam looked out to the valley, seeing the processing facility. “I’ll lay odds on it has something to do with olive oil.”

  “That’s their thinking, too. The ships registered to Heibert Lines have been inspected on numerous occasions. The one time that Interpol actually managed to inspect the cargo after it was delivered to suspected dealers, someone set off a charge. It exploded, killing two of their officers.”

  “We’re not anywhere near their ships.”

  “No. And my goal is to keep you away from them. Last thing you want to involve yourself in is an international drug smuggling ring. Whatever you’re doing, turn around, get to the airport, and go home.”

  “About that. I might need to make a slight detour on my way out.”

  “I’m serious, Sam. This group is not one you want to mess with. Get off that island.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, pretend I’m on my way back to the boat. I’ll call as soon as I get there.” He disconnected, then looked at Remi. “Change of plans. You go back to the boat. I’ll go after Dimitris and Zoe.”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  “Remi, you heard what he said. They’ve already killed a couple of officers. I’m not going to let you be next.”

  She tucked her phone into her pocket. “And what? You’re going to go in like a one-man wrecking crew?”

  “I work better by myself.”

  “That’s what you said at Kyril’s party. What if I’m the one factor that makes a difference?”

  “I’ll admit your quick thinking was . . . appreciated, but—”

  “Appreciated? Why is it so hard to admit that I might be able to help? Those two guards would’ve definitely caught you if not for me.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s easier to work if I know you’re safe.”

  “That settles it, then. I have to go with you.”

  “Your twisted logic isn’t going to work this time.”

  “You have no way of knowing that I’ll be safe once I leave. I could fall and break my neck on that steep trail. And let’s not forget the scorpions, or the four hundred pounds of mother boar protecting her babies.” She crossed her arms, then lifted her chin, her expression defiant. “The way I see it, you can worry about me there, or here with you.”

  “There’s nothing I can say that’ll convince you to go back?”

  “Nothing.”

  When it came right down to it, he’d rather Remi take her chances with a boar and the scorpions over Kyril’s thugs. Realizing he wasn’t going to change her mind, he let out a frustrated breath. “Fine. But you have to do everything I say.”

  “Let me guess. No going rogue. Where have I heard that before?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “She won’t take my advice but, ‘Oh yes, Sam, I’ll do everything you say. No going rogue.’”

  Remi arched her brows. “I sound nothing like that.”

  He looked down over the edge at this side of the gorge. There was about fifteen feet of cliff jutting out, but once they cleared that, it sloped out slightly the rest of the way down—something he thought Remi could handle. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever done any rappelling?”

  “Only if you count cliff-jumping at Adrian Kyril’s party.”

  He stood, pulling a coil of rope from his backpack. “Our only hope,” he said, taking a knife and cutting off a section, “is to get to Dimitris and Zoe before they get to the processing facility. If we head straight down on this side instead of following the mule tr
ail, we can cut off a good chunk of time. Maybe a couple of hours.”

  Remi peered over the edge, her brows rising. “I’m going to need you to define exactly what you mean by straight down.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Sam pointed to the base of the gorge. “As in, we’re way up here, and we need to be way down there.”

  Remi eyed the rope, then the edge of the bluff, wondering if maybe she’d been a bit rash in her decision to accompany him. Once past the twenty feet of sheer cliff, there was at least a hundred more feet of steep slope down to the bottom. “You’re sure that’s doable?”

  Sam finished knotting the length he was working with. “The hardest part is getting down the cliff to where the slope starts. You see that tree growing down on that ledge?”

  She carefully peered over, seeing the treetop about twenty feet below. “Yes.”

  “I’m going to lower you, then I’ll follow. We’ll rappel down from there to the next tree. And then the next.”

  She eyed the distance to the bottom of the gorge. “That rope isn’t near long enough.”

  “It’s called the Texas Rope Trick,” he said, tying the longer length to the much smaller circle. “It’s like a giant slipknot. The sling,” he said, holding up the circle, “allows us to secure it to the tree trunk. At the bottom, I pull the middle strand threaded through it, bring the whole thing down, and we start all over again.”

  “You’re sure it’s safe?”

  It wasn’t a method Sam would recommend except under the most dire circumstances. “Have I ever led you astray?”

  “This from the man who made me jump off the back of a speeding boat? And a cliff into the sea?”

  “Rappelling is much safer.”

  “At least I was landing in water the other two times. That,” she said, nodding down to the bottom of the gorge, “looks a lot harder.”

  “I’ll lower you from here. All you need to do is hold on to the rope. Use your feet to walk backward down the cliff. Once we start down the next level, it’ll be much easier.”