Off Course (14 page)

What’s next
? Emily wondered. In that same moment, she realized the van was pulling out of the warehouse and the roller door was closing. Then it was dark. Not quite pitch black, but dark enough. The only light in the building came in the shape of shafts and splinters from the sides of the roller door that had just closed and from one of those spinning roof turbines. She heard a lock snap shut.

As the sound of the van’s engine faded into the distance, Emily could hear Sarah breathing hard next to her. Sarah’s hunched shape was roughly visible in the fractured rays of sunlight, head lolling to the side. And the only thing she could think about was Dr. Navarro’s stern instructions that Sarah eat regularly from the prescribed menu. Emily’s insides heated with fury. Sarah could die in here, next to her, and no one would know. At least not for a long time. Who could know how long it would take to find them? She was certain that they were in about as obscure a place as could be found. There were no sounds coming from the outside. No sounds from cars or trucks. No sounds from people. No sounds from machinery.

Isolated somewhere. Alone. Desperate.

Western Caribbean Sea, 35 miles north of Providencia Island

June 15, 4:25 p.m. Caribbean Time

The
Admiral Risty
leaned and yawed as wind gusts reached forty-five miles per hour. The rain pellets were becoming more constant, whipped sideways by the wind. The swells coming from the southwest had grown to six feet or more, slowing the
Admiral’s
progress and complicating things for the crew.

Mr. Green kept one eye on the mounting sea and one eye on the Captain. He looked unwell as he gripped the railing around the cockpit.

Captain Sewell called to his men, who continued to lean out on the port side. He had to weigh the risk to their immediate safety with the risk of being caught in open ocean as the storm intensified. “Reel in the tethers. Return to your posts.”

Rojas looked at him and shook his head. “Not yet,” he yelled. “We’re OK. Keep the hike on longer. We need the speed.”

The Captain paused, admiring the courage of his crew. The
Admiral
was pushing along southward at twenty-two knots, a pace he knew he couldn’t maintain for much longer. The winds remained at thirty to thirty-five knots―the upper threshold for full sails and tethered hiking like the men were doing. It was the fifty-plus knot gusts that worried him. They were increasing in frequency and duration. To remain at full sails much longer was tantamount to suicide.

Knowing from weather updates on his navigation system that the storm had gained in both speed and intensity across the warmer waters south and east of their current position, he knew it was going to be a close call getting to safe harbor, even at full sails. Likewise, being stuck out here in the worst of the storm was also suicide.

He nodded reluctantly at Rojas, who smiled back and gave him a thumbs-up.

At best, the safe harbor of Providencia was an hour and a half away. Most likely, it would take longer.

*              *              *              *

Collin watched as Long Hair fought to keep from falling off the bench as the boat continued to shift from side to side and bob up and down. At the same time, he held tight to the laptop and the other computer equipment he pulled from a nylon bag Collin had not noticed before. First, Long Hair slid a slim, silver device from one of the duffle bag’s pockets and held it on his lap. He stuck wires and cables into the device, the laptop, and then into something that looked like a really old cell phone. It was big and bulky, but had a touch screen interface with Chinese characters on it. This device he clutched between his knees.

There was a series of beeps and other noises, reminiscent of the days of dial-up Internet connections that lasted several minutes.

When all the chirping and whirring stopped, Long Hair closed the lid to Collin’s laptop and muttered something. He disconnected the cords and stuffed everything, excluding Collin’s laptop, in the nylon bag and placed the bag on the bench next to him. He put Collin’s laptop back in the rubbery sea bag and sealed it shut.

Stinky replied and pointed to the stairs, apparently dismissing Long Hair so he could enjoy the weather up top.

Stinky then punched a button on the sat phone and Collin heard him speaking deferentially to Penh. When their conversation was over, Penh addressed Collin.

“Mr. Cook, we both now have what we wished for. My associates have successfully cloned your hard drive and transmitted that data to my servers. Now, I have the account numbers and codes to retrieve my money and you have your mother and girlfriend left alone, just as you requested,” Penh said with an air of triumph.

A jumpy and jumbled video clip sputtered on the screen in front of Collin. The halting images showed Emily and his mother still taped to their chairs in near darkness. Emily’s head swiveled from side to side and her body thrashed and pulled against the restraints. There was fear in her eyes.

A dull but powerful ache welled up in Collin’s stomach. When he told Penh to leave them alone, he hadn’t envisioned this scenario.

“Wait, your men are going to tell someone where they are, right? My mom needs medical attention. You can’t just leave her there.”

“Is this not what you demanded? You demanded we leave them alone, so that is exactly what we have done,” said Penh with an air of triumph.

Collin instantly regretted saying anything. He thought things through as fast as his tired brain would spin. This was a far better outcome than having that mangy mutt pawing over Emily or touching his mom.

“Would you like me to send my men back to them? I can’t guarantee they won’t succumb to the temptation presented to them. That girlfriend of yours does present a sumptuous feast for the eyes, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean. Forget I said anything.”

“Very well,” said Penh.

Before Penh could start into his next soliloquy, Collin interrupted with a question. “So what happens to the rest of us? Are you going to kill us now? Or wait until we get to Panama?” asked Collin.

“I have no interest in killing . . . have to kill.” Penh’s words were mottled and halting as the connection failed. The wind outside was howling and the intensifying storm was wreaking havoc on their satellite link as the rain beat down on the fiberglass hull of the boat, making it hard for Collin to hear. “I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Cook . . . different circumstances, I’m sure . . . gotten along quite well. It’s a shame . . . so difficult for yourself and those close to you. Our agreement is complete, is it not?”

“Wait, there’s something you need to know,” Collin yelled.

Penh’s voice came back, “If you have nothing more to say, I bid you good day, Mr. Cook.”

“There’s something I have to tell you―” but it was too late. The line went dead, and Collin assumed he and those he loved would die soon, too, if he didn’t tell Penh about the fail-safe security on the account in Panama.

Penh needed to hear what Collin had to say. Frantic, Collin shouted at Stinky. “Get him back on the line. I have important information I have to tell him.”

Stinky raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move.

“I don’t care if you kill me when this is all over, but it’s not right for my mom and my friend to . . . Listen, I need to talk to Penh right now. If you want the money I’m sure he promised you, get him back on the line. Now.”

Stinky looked at the phone and shrugged. He punched some buttons and waited. The fuzzy sound of an empty phone line was all they could hear.

“Keep trying,” Collin insisted.

Stinky tried three more times with the same result.
The storm must be messing with their ability to connect to the satellite
, thought Collin.

Any minute now, Collin expected Stinky to either shoot him in the head or slice his jugular or get his goons to wrestle him topside and pitch him overboard. In any case, he didn’t expect to live to see Penh’s ultimate defeat.

  *              *              *              *

Northbound Interstate 5, Southern Orange County, California

June 15, 4:05 p.m. Pacific Time

Rob thumped the steering wheel of his rented Ford Fusion, frustrated by the snarled traffic. Being a native, he expected it, but not this far south. It was unbelievable that five lanes of traffic could clog up so thoroughly and literally inch along slower than a man could walk. The lack of progress was making him crazy, but he had to keep himself together. He would be no good to the Cook family if he showed up in a crisis situation completely frazzled.

The lack of information was equally as frustrating. Lukas had given him hourly updates with scant details. The updates had come every hour on the hour. This one was late. Lukas was never late. He was as Austrian as they come: prompt, precise, and accurate.

It can’t be a good omen, can it
? Rob thought.

He checked his watch. He would still have time to visit briefly with Henry before going to the airport to pick up Collin’s brother and sister. He had called both Richard and Megan and had spoken to each of them for the first time in nearly ten years. After hearing about their mother’s kidnapping and the assault on their father, each made preparations to take the next flight into Southern California. It was important for the Cook family to be together and rally around their parents, they explained.

Rob had answered their questions about Collin as best he could, explaining that his last known location was on an island in the Caribbean, but that he was trying to avoid some very bad people. Rob figured the whole story would be a little overwhelming at this point.

Rob’s phone finally rang. The sound of Linkin Park signaled Lukas’s long awaited call.

“Found her,” Lukas announced excitedly. “Took a while, but we were able to trace a very weak signal from Emily’s phone, the cheap one Collin gave her, to an industrial park eight miles northeast of Chula Vista. Apparently the whole complex is empty. Something to do with a federal lawsuit against the owners over environmental hazards. It’s miles away from nowhere, very poor cell reception, very sparsely populated. Brilliant place for a hostage situation. But, that’s beside the point.”

“OK, I’m ready to go. Just give me the address. I’ll be there as quickly as I can,” said Rob. “And I’ll need a gun.”

“I’m afraid not, my friend,” said Lukas. “It’s way too dangerous. I’m sending in a strike team.”

“I want to be there, Lukas. I flew out here from London, changed all my plans to help, so let me help. Please.”

“I know you’d love to put a bullet in these guys. I would, too. But let’s let the trained professionals handle this one. I’m going to need you later.”

“Come on, Lukas. I can’t just sit around doing nothing when my friends are in danger. You know I’m capable. You’ve seen me play all those simulated video games. You know I rock in combat situations.”

“Very funny,” said Lukas. “This is real life, not Xbox. I need your real-world skill set, not your virtual combat prowess.”

“I know, but I want to help.”

“You’ll be no good to them or to me if you’re the one that ends up with a bullet in you,” said Lukas. “I’ll let you know as soon as the mission is complete.”

“What about Collin? What’s going on with him?” asked Rob.

“It does not look too good,” Lukas said with a sigh. “That storm took an unexpected turn northward and picked up speed. They are sailing right into it.”

“I’m sure they’ll be OK. You checked out Captain Sewell’s background. The man has been sailing all his life. Certainly he’s handled storms like this before,” Rob tried to assure him.

“Maybe so, but it’s always risky dealing with Mother Nature. Besides, the area where they are heading is full of rocky outcroppings and shallow reefs. It’s suicide for them to try to navigate through there in this weather.” Lukas, the calm one of the group, was worried. It was obvious from his tone of voice. “The full force of that storm is going to hit as they are surrounded by these hazards.”

“Captain Sewell must know what he’s doing, don’t you think?”

“My guess is that he’s heading for a safe harbor on the west side of the islands. But I must also assume he knows about the reefs and rocks. I just pray he gets them there safely.”

“How far are they from the island?”

“Right now, about ten miles.”

“That’s not close enough, is it?”

“No, and they are not making the same progress they were making before. They’ve slowed down as the storm has worsened and as the sun goes down.”

“That’s a prudent move, don’t you think? Collin trusts him. We should, too.”

“Trust in the Captain is not the issue. Besides, Collin has no choice at this point, does he? Dealing with the unpredictability of nature is the real problem right now.”

“Let’s keep in mind who we’re talking about here. Collin is Mr. Resourceful, remember? He’s a tough, do-what’s-got-to-be-done-to-survive kind of guy. He survived a Category Two hurricane in a twelve-foot rubber raft. This is nothing more than a tropical storm. Easy for a guy like him. He’s going to be fine. One way or another, Collin is going to be fine, Lukas.”

“I wish I had your faith. And don’t use my name.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess the faith comes from Henry and Sarah. They always taught me that if I didn’t doubt, God could do miracles for me. I know Collin believes that way, too. You should try it.”

“Wish I could . . . I really wish I could,” said Lukas.

*              *              *              *

London, England

June 16, 12:07 a.m. London Time

Nic’s cell phone buzzed on the desk next to him. Alastair, who had nodded off temporarily, jumped at the sound. It was Crabtree.

“We just lost signal on Cook’s phone,” said Crabtree.

“We saw that, too. What do you reckon it means? Dead battery? Or downed ship?” asked Nic.

“My gut instinct is that it’s a dead battery,” said Reggie. “He probably hasn’t charged it since they shoved off and that was more than forty-eight hours ago. If it’s a cheapie like the one he gave his girlfriend, I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did, especially when it’s constantly searching for signal out in the middle of the ocean.”