'Lucky for us the computerized navigation controls survived intact. I've programmed in a course for Barra del Colorado in Costa Rica. An old naval buddy of mine retired down there and lives next to a sport-fishing lodge. We can tie up at his dock and make the necessary repairs for the trip across the sea to the NUMA boatyard at Fort Lauderdale.'
'A wise choice.' Pitt gestured toward the huge and mysterious containership across the water. 'We might find trouble if we run in there. Better safe than sorry.'
'You're right. Once Nicaraguan authorities find out we sank a yacht in their backyard, we'd all be arrested.' He dabbed a cloth at a trickle of blood that was oozing from a cut on one cheek. 'What's the story on the woman you rescued?'
'Soon as she's conscious, I'll find out.'
'Do you want to contact the admiral and give him a report, or should I?'
'I'll take care of it.' Pitt entered the galley and sat down at a computer used by the crew mostly for entertainment, e-mail home and occasional research on the Internet via satellite. He typed in the name of the yacht,
He met Renee in the passageway separating the cabins. 'How's she doing?'
'If it was up to me, I'd throw her arrogant ass into the sea.'
'That bad?'
'Worse. Within seconds of coming awake, she began giving me a hard time. Not only is she demanding, but she only speaks in Spanish.' Renee paused to smile smugly. 'It's an act.'
'How can you tell?'
'My mother was an Ybarra. I speak better Spanish than our guest.'
'She won't reply in English?' asked Pitt.
Renee shook her head. 'Like I said, it's an act. She wants us to believe she was only a poor Mexican who slaved in the galley. Her makeup and designer bikini are dead giveaways. This broad has class. She's no scullery maid.'
Pitt pulled his old .45 Colt from a holster on his belt. 'Let me play Let's Make a Deal with her.' He stepped into the cabin with the mystery guest, approached her and gently pushed the muzzle against her nose. 'I'm sorry to have to kill you, sweet stuff, but we can't leave any witnesses around. You understand.'
The amber-brown eyes flew wide and crossed, staring at the gun. Her lips suddenly trembled as she felt the cold, hard barrel and looked into Pitt's inscrutable green eyes. 'No, no, please!' she cried out in English. 'Don't kill me! I have money. Let me live and I'll make you rich.'
Pitt looked up at Renee, who was standing with her mouth open, not completely certain whether Pitt was not actually going to shoot the woman. 'Do
Renee caught onto the game and came on stage. 'We already have a ton of gold hidden aboard the boat.'
'Don't forget the rubies, emeralds and diamonds,' chided Pitt.
'We might find it in our hearts not to feed her to the sharks for a couple of days if she tells us about the fake pirate ship, and why the pirates chased us half the night so they could murder all of us and sink our boat.'
'Yes. Yes, please!' the woman gasped. 'I can only tell you what I know!'
Pitt saw a strange glint in her eyes that did not indicate trust. 'We're listening.'
'The yacht belonged to my husband and me,' she began. 'We were on a cruise from Savannah through the Panama Canal and up to San Diego, when we were approached by what we thought was an innocent fishing boat whose captain asked for medical supplies so they could treat an injured crewman. Unfortunately, my husband, David, fell for the ruse and before we could react, the pirates had boarded our boat.'
'Before we continue,' said Pitt, 'my name is Dirk Pitt and this is Renee Ford.'
'I'm rude for not thanking you for saving me. I'm Rita Anderson.'
'What happened to your husband and crew?'
'They were murdered and their bodies thrown in the sea. I was spared because they thought I would be useful in luring passing boats.'
'How was that?' asked Renee.
'They thought that seeing a woman on the deck in a bikini would attract them close enough to be attacked and captured.'
'That was their only motive in keeping you alive?' asked Pitt doubtfully.
She nodded silently.
'Do have any idea of who they were or where they came from?'
'They were local Nicaraguan bandits turned pirates. My husband and I had been warned not to sail through this area, but the sea along the coast looked peaceful.'
'Odd that local pirates knew how to fly a helicopter,' Renee muttered under her breath.
'How many boats did they capture and destroy using your yacht?' Pitt pressed Rita.
'Three that I'm aware of. Once the crew was murdered and the boat ransacked for valuables, it was scuttled.'
'Where were you when we collided with your yacht?' inquired Renee.
'So that's what happened?' she answered vaguely. 'I was locked in my cabin. I heard sounds of explosions and gunfire. Then came a great shock and the boat shuddered, followed by fire. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was the wall of my cabin crashing in around me. When I woke up, I was here on your boat.'
'Do you recall anything else leading up to the collision and fire?'
Rita shook her head slowly back and forth. 'Nothing. They held me prisoner in my cabin and only let me out when they were preparing to capture another vessel.'
'Why the hologram of the pirate ship?' asked Renee. 'That seemed more like a gimmick to keep boats out of the area than an act of piracy.'
Rita looked uncomprehending. 'Hologram? I'm not even sure what one is.'
Pitt smiled inwardly. He saw little cause not to believe that Rita Anderson was fabricating a wild story. Renee was right. Rita's makeup hardly looked like it belonged on a woman who had seen her husband murdered and had been cruelly dealt with by pirates. The beige-rose lipstick with lip gloss was too precisely applied, the eyes defined with a deep chestnut liner and a shimmer highlighter on the brow — all spelled a life of elegance. He decided to go for the jugular, watching closely for a reaction.
'What is your connection with Odyssey?' he said suddenly.
At first, she didn't get it. Then it began to dawn on her that these people were no innocent fishermen. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' she hedged.
'Wasn't your husband an employee of the Odyssey conglomerate?'
'Why do you ask?' she threw out, stalling while she came back on keel.
'Your boat bore the same image of a horse as the Odyssey logo.'
The immaculately plucked and penciled eyebrows pinched fractionally. She was good, Pitt thought, very good. She didn't faze easily.
He began to realize that Rita was no mundane wife of a rich man. She was comfortable being in command, with power to wield. He was amused as she made a flank attack and tried to turn the tables.
'Who are you people?' Rita suddenly demanded. 'You're not fishermen.'
'No,' Pitt said slowly, with effect. 'We're with the United States National Underwater and Marine Agency on a scientific expedition to find the source of the brown crud.'
He might as well have slapped her in the face. The calm composure abruptly fell away. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, 'Not possible. You're—' She caught herself and her voice trailed off.
'Supposed to be dead from the explosion in Bluefields Channel,' Pitt finished for her.
'You knew?' Renee gasped, moving toward the bed as if to strangle Rita.
'She knew,' Pitt agreed, gently taking Renee by the arm and restraining her.
'But why?' Renee demanded. 'What did we do to deserve a horrible death?'
Rita would say no more. The expression on her face altered from surprise to anger mixed with hatred. Renee would have loved to have rammed her fist into Rita's face. 'What will we do with her?'
