her eyes to see the chairman looming over her. By the grim look on his face she saw he knew.
“I want to see her.”
Julia got off the table and led Cabrillo through to another part of the medical bay, a small chilled room with a single table in the center. Four stainless-steel drawers were built into one wall. Without saying anything, she slid open one of them to reveal a nude body enclosed in an opaque plastic bag. Juan tore the plastic covering the head and stepped back to study the pale gray face of Susan Donleavy.
“How’d she do it?”
“It was a nasty way to die,” Julia said, ten times more exhausted now than she’d been a moment earlier.
“She stuck out her tongue as far as she could and let herself fall forward. Her chin slammed the deck and her teeth severed her tongue. She then rolled over and basically drowned in her own blood. I can’t imagine what it takes to fall like that and not try to stop it with your hands.”
“She was cuffed.”
“She could have turned her head at the last second.” Julia looked at the body sadly. “For all we know maybe she did it again and again until she got her courage up for a final attempt.”
Cabrillo didn’t say anything for a moment. He was remembering the boat chase in Sandwich Bay after he and Sloane had found Papa Heinrick murdered. The driver he’d been following had intentionally crashed his boat into the shore rather than risk capture. He had thought maybe it was out of fear, that he didn’t want to face an African prison, but the truth was the guy had sacrificed himself for the cause. Just like Susan Donleavy.
“No,” he said with certainty. “She did it right the first time.”
“You’ve reviewed the security tapes from her cell?”
He turned to face her. “Don’t need to. I know the type.”
“Fanatic.”
“Yup. Biting off the tongue was an acceptable alternative to hara-kiri for captured Japanese soldiers during World War Two.”
“I’m sorry, Juan. Scuttlebutt around the ship is that she might have known some more useful information.”
“She did.” He looked at Julia. “And I think Geoff Merrick knows it, too. I need you to wake him.”
“Forget it. His blood pressure’s still too low. I’ve barely checked his wound for fragments and am only now getting his infection under control. I admit his coma’s much shallower, but his body’s refusing to come around.”
“Julia, I don’t have a choice. Singer ordered the raid this morning at a specific time because he’s got something else planned. He kidnapped Merrick because he wanted him to see what it was. When Linda interviewed Susan she said that Singer spent a few hours at the Devil’s Oasis talking with Merrick. I am willing to bet he spilled the whole thing then.”
“Are you willing to bet his life?”
“Yes,” Juan said without hesitation. “Whatever Singer’s up to is likely to involve a hurricane. I think he’s devised a way to shape them somehow. Do you need me to lay out what that means? You took leave to volunteer in New Orleans after Katrina.”
“I was born there.”
“We can stop another city from suffering the same fate. Julia, you have full autonomy over medical decisions on this ship but only because I say you do. If you would prefer me to give you an order, I will.”
She hesitated, then said, “I’ll do it.
Juan knew he should ask Linda to conduct the interview, it was her area of expertise, but he wasn’t extracting information from a reluctant captive, only talking to a half-conscious victim. “Let’s go.”
Hux grabbed some supplies from the OR and led Cabrillo through to the recovery rooms. Where once Geoffrey Merrick had a room to himself, he now shared the space with three wounded Africans. His sunburned face was covered in gel to help his skin heal, but beneath it Juan could see the scientist remained pale. After checking his vital signs Julia injected a stimulant into his IV drip.
Merrick came around slowly. At first his eyes remained closed and the only sign of movement was his tongue attempting to lick his dry lips. Julia moistened them with a wet cloth. Then his eyes fluttered and opened. His looked from Julia to Juan and back to the doctor again, obviously disorientated.
“Dr. Merrick, my name is Juan Cabrillo. You’re safe now. You were rescued from the people who kidnapped you and are now in the sick bay of my ship.”
Before Merrick could reply, Julia asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Thirsty,” he rasped.
She tipped a glass of water with a straw to his mouth and he took several grateful sips. “How’s your chest?”
He thought about his answer for a moment. “Numb.”
“You were shot,” Juan told him.
“I don’t remember.”
“Susan Donleavy shot you during the rescue.”
“She wasn’t beat up,” Merrick said as a fragment of the memory came back. “I thought they had tortured her, but it was all faked with makeup.”
“Daniel Singer showed up one day when you were being held prisoner. Do you remember that?”
“I think so.”
“He did and you two spoke.”
“Where’s Susan now?” the scientist asked.
“She killed herself, Doctor.” Merrick stared at him. “She did that to prevent us from learning what Singer intends to do.”
“Oil rigs.” Merrick’s voice was fading to a whisper as his body fought the drugs in an attempt to return to unconsciousness.
“That’s right. He planned on attacking oil rigs off the coast of Angola and causing a huge slick. What else was he planning? Did he tell you?”
“You have to stop him. The oil is especially toxic.” His last words were slurred.
“We have,” Juan said. “His assault failed. The slick will be contained.”
“Ship,” he said dreamily.
“There was a ship at the terminal but it wasn’t attacked.”
“No. Singer has a ship.”
“What is he using it for?”
“It was Susan’s discovery. She took it to him. I thought it was only a test, but she had already perfected it.” His eyes closed.
“Perfected what, Geoff? What did Susan perfect? Dr. Merrick?”
“An organic gel that turns water into pudding.”
“Why?” Juan asked desperately, fearing Merrick was slipping away. “What is it used for?”
Merrick said nothing for nearly twenty seconds. “Heat,” he finally whispered. “It gives off a lot of heat.”
And there was the connection Cabrillo had been looking for. Hurricanes need heat and Singer was going to give one a boost. If he released the contents of a vessel laden with Susan Donleavy’s gel into the ocean, probably at the epicenter of a forming storm, the heat would give the weather system a kick start exactly when and where he wanted. That was how he knew when to attack the Petromax terminal. The prevailing winds would carry the oil vapors northward into the hurricane he had helped generate.
Juan knew the seas off Africa’s west coast were the logical place Singer would dump the gel, but the area was vast and there wasn’t enough time to conduct a search. He had to narrow the parameters.
“What kind of ship is Singer using?” A tanker was the most likely candidate, but Juan wouldn’t lead the semiconscious man with his suspicions.
Merrick remained mute, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. Julia was watching his monitor, and Juan