Sea of Greed

by Clive Cussler

  Kurt left Perlmutter’s home with a wave of energy surging through his body. He dialed Rudi on his phone, using the Bluetooth connection in the Jeep to talk over the speakers.

  “I’m headed to the airport,” he told Rudi. “I need Paul, Gamay and all the deep-diving equipment you can pull together in an hour.”

  Rudi, who was rarely shocked, seemed at a loss. “Why?”

  “Because I’m flying to Crete. And I’m diving on the INS Dakar.”

  “The Dakar . . . The submarine?”

  “That’s what Millard was trying to tell us,” Kurt replied. “When I asked him about the oil-destroying bacteria, he said Le Dakar—the Dakar. The submarine. Not the city.”

  “Seems like a stretch,” Rudi said.

  “Not after what St. Julien just told me.” Kurt went on to explain the rumor Perlmutter had just relayed to him.

  “He does have a spy network that would make the CIA proud,” Rudi said, “but you’re still making a giant leap of faith and landing on a very shaky conclusion. How would Tessa even find out about this weapon?”

  “Pascal Millard,” Kurt said. “He’s the link. He spent years as the Director of Biological Research for the French military and then held the same role on the civilian side with the French Ministry of Science. At that time, he was given the additional title Director of Ethics Administration. He was in a position to know these secrets and, once he was fired and censured, he would be in a position to trade on them.”

  “I suppose the timing fits,” Rudi said. “We’ve been piecing his background together. He left France and started working for Tessa before this oil crisis began.”

  “How they met, I don’t know,” Kurt admitted. “But at some point, Millard told her about the oil destroyer and its resting place on the Dakar. Tessa, being a risk taker whose alternative energy company is floundering, comes up with the plan of the century. Destroy the world’s oil, tell yourself that you’re saving the planet and make billions on the back end.”

  “Audacious,” Rudi replied. “Do you have anything beyond the rumor St. Julien told you about and the circumstantial link you just gave me? Like a method by which this oil destroyer gets from a submarine at the bottom of the sea and into Tessa’s hands?”

  “Tessa has a wealth of equipment at her disposal—submersibles, aircraft, ships. She also has a historical preservation society that’s done work all around the globe. That LNG carrier in Bermuda was one of her presents to the world at large, but there have been others. Look up her efforts and I guarantee you’ll find her historical preservation society operating near the Dakar between the time Millard began working for her and the start of this oil crisis.”

  “Stand by,” Rudi said. “I’ll check.”

  The wait was longer than Kurt expected, but he continued toward the airport without slowing down. “Anything?”

  “You’re dead-on,” Rudi said finally. “Two years ago, Tessa’s foundation spent three months and sixty million dollars on a deepwater archaeological expedition in the eastern Med. It was supposed to be cataloging and recovering Minoan artifacts, but despite the cost and time spent, there was very little to show for the effort.”

  “And the location?” Kurt asked.

  “They did work over a small geographic area,” Rudi said, “but never more than ten miles from where the Dakar went down.”

  “They weren’t looking for amphoras and statues of Poseidon,” Kurt said. “They were diving on the wreck, trying to find whatever type of sealed protective containers the oil-destroying cultures were stored in.”

  “You’ve convinced me,” Rudi said. “But if she’s already been there, what good is searching the Dakar going to do us?”

  It was time to deliver the good news. “Perlmutter’s friend said there was a countermeasure to the bioweapon. A counteragent, an antidote. The completion of which was the cause of the rift between the Israelis and the French in the first place. As it happens, I asked Millard how we could destroy the bacteria. His response was odd to me. He said they didn’t find it, it wasn’t there. At the time, I thought he was just confused, but now it makes perfect sense. Tessa’s people found the oil destroyer but not the counteragent.”

  “Which means it might still be there.”

  “Exactly,” Kurt said. “It’s not easy to search every square inch of a sunken vessel. Especially at that depth. And especially when you’re doing it in secret. For what they wanted to do, the oil destroyer was far more important than the counteragent. Once they had it, there was little incentive to keep looking for its antidote. But we have every incentive in the world.”

  “I assume you’re still driving to the airport,” Rudi said.

  “Halfway there.”

  “Keep going,” Rudi said.

  “We should probably expect trouble,” Kurt pointed out. “I think it’s time we broke out more than the standard-issue equipment.”

  “I know what you’ll need,” Rudi said. “Don’t worry. You’ll have it. Just get to the airport and start loading. I’ll make sure everything else is waiting for you in Crete.”

  48

  ABOARD THE MONARCH

  A DROP OF SWEAT meandered through follicles of thick, dark hair, trickling forward and down the side of a man’s face. It reached his chin, mixed with a drop of fresh blood and fell to the deck below, splattering in a microscopic explosion like a Jackson Pollock canvas wrought on machined-aluminum plating.

  Joe Zavala smiled at the thought. Blood, Sweat and Tears, he’d call it.

  He was facing the deck, supporting himself on his hands as if he was doing a push-up. His jaw ached from the pistol-whipping that had drawn the blood, but he was a fighter by nature and going all the way to the floor was something he refused to do.

  “Ready for more?” a brusque female voice asked.

  “To be honest,” Joe said, “I wasn’t ready for that one.”

  Joe had endured a strange couple of days. At least he thought it was a couple of days. He couldn’t really be certain.

  One moment, he’d been on the verge of escaping from the docking sphere in Tessa’s submerged production facility off Bermuda, the next instant the entire vessel shook and a wall of water had surged into the sphere and through the tunnel behind him.

  Joe had pulled himself out of the water and onto the submersible, which was banging around inside the sphere. That kept him from being sucked back into the tunnel, but as he looked for Kurt and Millard, someone had clubbed him from behind.

  By the time he’d returned to a conscious state, he was in the submersible, tied up and gagged like the men he and Kurt had left behind. The sub was descending into the outer hull and ramming its way out through the sliding door in the side of the ship.

  When the submarine surfaced, Joe was hauled aboard the mystery freighter, which he learned was named the Morgana. He was kept in a dark hold, fed nothing and drugged when he started to complain about the accommodations.

  Transfer to the Monarch happened the next night and, since then, his home had been a cargo compartment on the lowest deck of the plane. The compartment had been frigid when they were airborne, only to grow stifling and hot after they’d landed.

  It was cramped, without any creature comforts or even a blanket, but it was better than the alternative.

  “You’re lucky to be alive,” Tessa told him, raising the possibility of that alternative.

  Joe looked up. Tessa stood there, flanked by several of her men. One was a big, bearded fellow who Joe had seen on the freighter after his capture. The others were smaller and seemed better at taking orders than anything else.

  “Get up,” Tessa demanded.

  As Joe stood, Tessa snapped her fingers and another prisoner was dragged into view.

  Joe recognized Priya instantly. “What are you doing here?”

  Priya’s eyes fell as she spotted him. Sh
e didn’t say a word.

  “She’s here because she was foolish enough to place this on the hull of my aircraft,” Tessa said. In her hand, Joe saw a geotracker. “We saw her, followed her back to the yacht and captured her. Just about the time you and Austin were blowing up my production facility. If you think you’ve stopped me, you’re sadly mistaken. I have other facilities and the need for that place is just about at an end anyway.”

  “If we did you such a favor,” Joe said, “how about just letting us go and calling it even?”

  “Because things are never even,” Tessa said. “You’re either winning or you’re losing and you and your friends in Washington are going to lose badly.”

  Joe had no desire for a long conversation. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he said. “What do you want from us?”

  “You,” Tessa said, “are here only as leverage.” She turned to Priya. “This one, on the other hand, has useful skills. Convince her to hack into NUMA’s computer system for me.”

  Joe saw where this was going.

  So did Priya. “I won’t do it.”

  “Of course you will,” Tessa said. “The only question is whether your friend here will still be able to walk when you finally give in.”

  With that, Tessa turned to her men. “Stretch him out. If she fails us, begin showing Ms. Kashmir what leverage really looks like.”

  Joe’s wrists were wrapped in electrical cables and pulled wide. As one of her men moved in to administer the same treatment to Joe’s leg, Joe spun-kicked him in the face and then pulled his arm free.

  The big fellow tackled him and put him in a headlock. Joe swung his head back, connecting with the man’s chin, but the blow wasn’t enough to set him free.

  “Enough!” Tessa shouted. “One more act of resistance out of you and I’ll cut her throat.”

  Joe looked over. Tessa had Priya by the hair with a knife against her throat.

  “She’s such a pretty thing,” Tessa said, “but that can be changed.” The knife left Priya’s throat and migrated to her cheek, drawing a taste of blood.

  Joe stopped struggling. Tessa had the upper hand. He could do nothing without them harming Priya. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  Tessa turned her attention back to Priya. “You friend has chosen you over his own pride. What will you choose?”

  Priya stubbornly kept her mouth shut. And Tessa gave the order. “Break his back, turn him into an invalid like her!”

  “No!” Priya shouted, tears welling up in her dark eyes.

  “You want him to keep walking,” Tessa said.

  “Of course.”

  “Then get on that computer, log on to NUMA and tell me what they’re up to.”

  Priya looked at Joe, tears running down her face, dropping to the floor to complete Joe’s imaginary painting. Joe nodded softly to her. “It’s okay,” he said.

  What he didn’t say was obvious. If they were going to escape, they first had to survive.

  49

  PRIYA WAS LIFTED from her spot on the ground and placed in a chair in front of an industrial-looking work terminal.

  While the computer booted up, Tessa pressed an intercom button. “Extend the communications array,” she said. “Make sure to falsify our position and identity.”

  A voice responded momentarily, saying, “Linkup complete. We’re connected through a false data node in Mumbai. No one will be able to trace us back here.”

  “You’re now connected to the web,” Tessa said. “Log on to NUMA’s classified system, please.”

  Priya tapped away at the keys, speaking at the same time. “I’m not going to be able to get in,” she insisted. “They know I’m missing. They probably know you have me. My clearance and access codes will already have been blocked.”

  “I don’t expect you to log on like it’s another day at the office,” Tessa said, “I expect you to use your knowledge of NUMA’s systems and hack them so I can watch their every move. And before you think of sending them a message or triggering some alarm, let me tell you that one of my experts is watching everything you do on a remote screen. If you try anything foolish, your friend Joe will never walk again.”

  Priya stared at Tessa. It was hard to believe she could be so brutal, but looking into the cold, malevolent eyes, Priya sensed her captor was capable of following through on every threat she’d uttered.

  Turning back to the keyboard, Priya went to work, looking for ways to break into the NUMA defenses she’d helped Hiram Yaeger update over the last two years. The level of her own thoroughness now frustrated her. For half an hour, she tried without success, all the while the interior of the aircraft growing hotter.

  “This is not going well,” Tessa said, now sitting on a foldout chair on the far side of the fuselage.

  Priya wiped the sweat from her face, scribbled notes on a pad and continued to search for a weak link. Finally, she was able to penetrate some of the less protected programs. “I’ve broken into the travel procurement office.”

  “What good will that do?” Tessa demanded.

  “I’m not sure,” Priya admitted, “but it’s a start.”

  She studied the documents available to her. Most were as mundane as rental car receipts and meal vouchers. Then she came upon something that made her heart hurt.

  “Joe, they’re flying your parents to Washington. The tickets were coded under a bereavement program. They’ve listed you as missing and presumed dead.”

  Joe shrugged. “Mom and Dad will be awfully surprised when I show up and they have to give back all that life insurance money.”

  Priya almost laughed, almost.

  “This is all very touching,” Tessa snapped. “I need to know more than the travel plans of NUMA families. Where is Kurt Austin and what is he up to?”

  “He went back to Washington,” Priya said, finding another more pertinent record. “But he’s not there now. He’s in Crete.”

  While that information meant nothing to Priya, it struck Tessa hard. She stood up suddenly, her dark eyebrows knitting together. “Crete? Why? What’s he doing there?”

  “I have no idea,” Priya said. “Paul and Gamay Trout are with him, and the quartermaster’s office confirmed the requisition for a dive boat and several deep-sea vehicles, including an ROV, a three-man submersible and two deepwater atmospheric diving suits.”

  Tessa walked across the fuselage, leaned over Priya’s shoulder and read the records for herself. The look on her face was malevolent. “Find me the reason for this trip. What are they looking for?”

  “I can’t access that information,” Priya said. “All the operational reports are too well protected.”

  “Dig deeper,” Tessa instructed.

  “I can’t get in any deeper!” Priya said. “They’ll just detect the attempt and shut us down. Then you’ll lose all access.”

  “If that happens,” Tessa said, “your problems will be worse than mine.”

  “Use my codes,” Joe said from behind them.

  Priya turned his way.

  “They’re probably still active,” Joe said. “No one rushes to clean out a dead man’s office or shut down his email or access codes. At least give them a try.”

  “Do it,” Tessa snapped.

  Joe rattled off his codes and Priya entered them carefully. After a short delay, the codes were accepted, giving Priya—and Tessa—access to everything in the Special Projects database.

  Priya found the information their captors wanted. She began reading the transcript to Tessa, slowing as she reached the crucial information. “Kurt’s objective is coded as a deepwater wreck, identified as the INS Dakar.”

  The name meant nothing to Priya, but Tessa froze at the sound of it. She read the rest of the information herself. By the time she finished, her previously smug face had been drained of color. Though it reddened quickly as anger replac
ed shock.

  She turned to the broad-shouldered, bearded man. “Put them in the cargo compartment. Then find Volke and meet me up front. We cannot let Austin and his friends dive on that ship.”

  50

  JOE AND PRIYA were taken to a compartment on the middle level of the aircraft and locked inside. Both of them had their hands zip-tied and Joe’s legs were also bound, but he didn’t think that would hold them long.

  “I’m sorry,” Priya said. “I shouldn’t have left the yacht. I shouldn’t have tried to place the geotracker on the plane. I was trying to help. Thought it’d be good to take some initiative.” She paused. “And I was feeling left out.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Joe said. “Disobeying orders is kind of a thing at NUMA. You’ll probably get a promotion out of it once we get back.”

  Priya smiled, but it quickly disappeared into a frown. “If we get back. This is a nightmare.”

  Joe pretended to be hurt. “That’s the first time a woman has ever said that about spending time alone with me.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “Trust me, things are looking up,” Joe said. “Tessa doesn’t know it, but she gave up some vital information. To begin with, Kurt’s alive. Something I’ve been wondering about since we were separated on that ship of hers. More importantly, Kurt is doing what he always does, making life miserable for his opponent. I have no idea what that submarine could possibly have to do with all of this, but Tessa’s face went white when you said the name.”

  “But I feel like a traitor giving them that information.”

  “You give something to get something,” Joe said. “You just logged in with my ID. Tessa seems like an obsessive-compulsive type. Now that she has access, she’ll probably find it hard to resist using it again . . . and again. Eventually, someone will notice that a dead guy is checking his email. That will tell Kurt and Rudi that she has us. Just might lead to them sending help. Assuming they can find us.”