Right away, Kurt knew what he was looking at. The pieces came together quickly after that. He knew why the lake was so outrageously colorful, and he also knew why the informant had both DCS and metal toxins all over his body.
It seemed he and Bradshaw were both correct.
He reached for the phone, dialed up a number from memory, and waited for an answer.
“Come on, Joe,” he whispered to himself.
A click on the line followed.
“Hello,” a sleepy American voice said.
Joe Zavala was Kurt’s best friend, his most loyal and trusted ally. Others would use the term
“I hope the women of Cairns haven’t worn you out,” Kurt said, “because I need your help on something.”
A yawn came over the line. “I have to ask: is it dangerous, illegal, or otherwise likely to result in serious bodily injury?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Probably not,” Joe said. “Especially considering what you’ve been up to down there.”
“You heard?”
“HQ called and left a message. Aside from that, you’re all over the news,” Joe explained. “CNN is reporting that an ‘unnamed American’ brought down the house in Sydney.”
“That’s witty of them,” Kurt said. “Too bad they weren’t performing the 1812 Overture, it would have been a showstopper of an ending.”
“And you said the conference was boring.”
“Seems I was wrong,” Kurt said. “So do you want to join in the fun or not?”
“Well,” Joe said, “I’m supposed to show off our new diving speeders to a group of reporters and a fifth- grade honors class from Cairns tomorrow as part of the Great Barrier Reef Project, but considering how repetitive their questions are, I think I’d rather throw my lot in with you. What do you need me to do?”
“Have the speeders been tested?”
“We checked them out today.”
“Perfect,” Kurt said. “Pack them up and bring them to the airport. I’ll have a plane chartered for you.”
“You got it. So what are we doing with them?”
“Just following up on a hunch,” Kurt said.
“You know you could phone it in,” Joe suggested. “Let the Aussies handle it.”
“If I had any brains, I would,” Kurt replied, “but my last conversation with them didn’t go so well. I figure I’ll have to show them instead of telling.”
“Sounds about par for the course,” Joe said. “So where are we going anyway?”
“Not entirely sure yet,” Kurt said. “But you’ll find out when you get to the airport. I’ll meet you at our destination.”
“You know you can count on me,” Joe said.
Before Joe could hang up, Kurt spoke again. “One more thing,” he said. “Keep this under your sombrero. It’s not exactly an approved NUMA operation.”
SIX
Janko Minkosovic stood in the center of the octagonal room. The lighting was dim and subdued, the air around him chilled below fifty degrees. Despite that, Janko was sweating. That the room was kept near one hundred percent humidity didn’t help, but fear and anxiety were the real causes.
He tried to control it, but the longer he stood in silence, the more his mind wandered.
All those who’d been called to this room felt great trepidation. Their master resided here. He ruled from here like a dictator, gave pronouncements from here like a judge.
No one knew that better than Janko. He’d brought many here against their will and dragged them out of the room afterward, either sentenced to some awful punishment or dead.
Two members of the guard stood behind him. Short-barreled versions of the American M16 rifle were clutched in their hands.
In a way, they were Janko’s men. After all, he was Captain of the Guard. He chose not to look at them. They were not here to support him, they’d received an order to bring him in.
Across from the group, staring out a window into utter darkness, their master waited. “What’s your main function, Janko?”
The imposing figure spoke without turning. There was a strange hushed quality to the voice. It came from scorched and damaged vocal cords.
“I am chief of security, as you well know,” Janko replied.
“And how do you judge your performance in light of recent events?”
Maxmillian Thero turned around. Janko saw familiar burn scars that ran up the man’s neck and onto his face. Only Thero’s mouth was visible, twisted into a scarred cut by what must have been a horrible fire. The nose, eyes, the right ear, and the rest of the face lay beneath a black latex mask. The mask hid features too hideous to show, but it also put a sense of fear into those who looked upon it. It separated him from them. It made him seem less, or perhaps more, than human.
Janko had the impression he was looking upon a demigod of some type, a being that should have been dead several times over — from fire, from gunshots, from radiation — and yet he still lived. Janko did not want to disappoint this demigod, but he could not bring himself to lie. He summoned all his courage.
“We have been endangered,” Janko admitted. “Our purpose may have been compromised. Despite great effort, I’ve failed to find the one who puts our goals at risk. The failure is mine. And mine alone.”
“You speak the truth,” Thero said. “How did it occur?”
“The dive master is in possession of all keys. He cannot explain how Panos was able to gain access to the airlock. Either the dive master is lying or there is a conspiracy. One that goes beyond Panos and the other traitors. But there is no way to account for all the strange things that have occurred. No one single person has access to all areas that have been breached. You know how tightly things are watched.”
Thero nodded, the soft latex of the mask catching the small amount of light that was present. The reflections danced up and down the mask, as if it was sending and receiving signals.
“Panos was driven from here,” Thero said. “That can mean only one thing: the help comes from the outside. From one of those we have trusted to do our business in the secular world.”
Janko did not agree, but he kept that to himself.
Thero shifted his weight. “You see the difficulty of my position, don’t you, Janko? I no longer know who to trust. Either here or on the island. Particularly because the next diamond shipment is ready to be sent. This one is the largest yet. But I can’t count on the other men to carry out the transactions.”
“Postpone it,” Janko suggested.
“The longer those diamonds sit, the bigger men’s eyes get,” Thero said. “I won’t delay the cargo any further. You will return to the island and take it personally.”
Janko’s eyes lit up. “Me?”
“First, you will kill the others, all those who have done our business before,” Thero explained. “Then you will take possession of the shipment and travel to Jakarta, where a buyer awaits us.”
Janko could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d come to Thero’s chambers expecting to be tortured or even killed. Instead, he was being offered a great honor.
He knew to grasp it immediately. Thero’s mercurial personality ran hot and cold, munificent at one moment, cruel and murderous the next. All those around him had learned to fear the strange pauses he was prone to, the odd looks he gave, as if searching the mist for something only he could see. Paranoia and power were a dangerous combination.
“I will do as you require,” Janko said firmly.
