Rhino pushed on, showing them several more compartments, until the crackle of a radio stopped them. Sloan pulled out her walkie-talkie.
“I’ll go topside to see if I can make this out,” she said.
X decided to follow her, sensing that it was something important. When they reached the weather deck, the transmission cleared with a message from a militia soldier monitoring the radio in the command center.
“Lieutenant Sloan, I’ve made contact with Captain Mitchells,” said the man. “He wants to speak to King Xavier.”
X grabbed the handset.
“This is X. You’re going to have to coordinate the conversation, okay?”
“Okay, sir.”
The soldier spoke into the radio equipment back at the command center, explaining that he had X on a mobile radio. X heard a faint response from Captain Mitchells in the flurry of static that followed.
“King Xavier,” said the militia soldier, “Captain Mitchells said they know what killed the Cazador crew at the outpost. Something called the skinwalkers.”
Rhino shot Carmela a glance.
“Captain Mitchells destroyed the rest of the outpost, and they are now on their way to Rio de Janeiro,” the soldier continued. “He anticipates they will reach the target in four to five days.”
“They destroyed the rest of the outpost?” Rhino asked.
“Confirm your last about destroying the outpost,” X said into the radio.
“Discovery fired two missiles to destroy the fuel station,” he replied.
“What the hell would they do that for?” X muttered.
“Shit,” Rhino said, looking down.
“Captain Mitchells has a message from General Santiago to relay to General Rhino,” said the soldier. “He says to firm up the borders. The skinwalkers could be heading to the islands.”
Rhino glanced up, and X caught the flicker of fear in his eyes.
“Copy that,” X said. “Tell Captain Mitchells to stay safe and to use only the encrypted line, and only if absolutely necessary.”
“Roger that.”
The line severed, and X handed the radio back to Sloan. Then he turned to Rhino and Carmela.
“Who, or what, are the skinwalkers?” X asked.
“Demon men who flay the hides off men and wear them as trophies,” Rhino said.
X almost laughed, but this was no joke. Apparently, el Pulpo wasn’t the worst of his kind.
“Come on,” he grunted. “You’ve got to be screwing with me.”
“I’m afraid not, King Xavier,” Rhino said. “Five years ago, el Pulpo’s bastard son, Horn, took the warship Raven’s Claw and two hundred of his warriors on a raiding mission.”
“Bastard son?” X said. “Isn’t that something you should have mentioned?”
“He was thought dead,” Rhino replied. “We still don’t know exactly what happened when the warship anchored, but when they didn’t return, el Pulpo sent an expedition to find them.”
X shook his head wearily. Of all the secrets the Cazadores had kept over the past few months, this was one of the craziest.
“We found a quarter of the crew murdered barbarically at the site of the target, and Raven’s Claw missing,” Rhino said.
“Like psycho, like son, I suppose,” Sloan muttered.
Rhino didn’t seem to understand the old-world reference and kept talking. “Many people thought el Pulpo sent his son to die on that mission. Perhaps that’s why Horn and his comrades slaughtered their commander and those loyal to his father.” Rhino ran a hand over his shaved head. “Others believed that Horn took Raven’s Claw in search of treasure and would someday return.”
“And you think Horn and his merry crew of demon assholes attacked the fuel station?” X asked.
“According to General Santiago, yes.”
X lowered his head in dismay. “The shit keeps piling up and smelling worse. As if mutant beasts and man-hunting machines weren’t bad enough, we have a demented army of skin… whatever the hell you called them, to worry about now.”
“I wish I knew more about them,” said Rhino, “but there are just two men alive who do. One is General Santiago, and the other is the sole survivor of that ill-fated mission.”
“I thought you just said everyone died.”
Rhino hesitated. “Not exactly…”
“God damn it,” X said. “All these damn secrets and half truths are really starting to rankle my ass.”
“I’m sorry, King Xavier. We found one former sailor from the mission alive, but I’m afraid he won’t be much help.”
“Why’s that?” X asked.
“Come with me. I’ll show you.”
Almost four days of pushing through the skies at a little over fifty knots had taken its toll on Les. The thought of at least two days’ travel still to go just made him tired, and knowing that the Vanguard Islands were facing another threat made the journey seem almost unbearable.
Les had thought his wife and daughter would be safe at home. The defectors didn’t know the location of the islands, but the skinwalkers did, and from what General Santiago had said about Horn and his crew, they were a significant threat, even in small numbers.
If Les had to guess, el Pulpo’s bastard son had fueled his warship and killed everyone in the outpost and was now heading to the Vanguard Islands for his revenge and to take the throne from his father.
Les massaged his temples, wondering whether they should turn back.
No, he thought, X has it under control.
He had too much thinking time on his hands. Part of him wondered whether he should fly ahead to scope out Rio de Janeiro. But he wasn’t keen on leaving the slower-moving Star Grazer, especially now that they had dropped the Sea Wolf off on the ship’s deck with Sofia, Magnolia, and Rodger.
Thoughts of the skin sculptures at the outpost, the two-headed snakes, the defectors killing his boy, and Ada Winslow dropping a shipping container of Cazadores into the ocean all swirled in his head.
She’s not your problem now. The disappointment and rage he felt toward the woman who had served as his XO momentarily took his mind off the threats to the islands and to his mission.
Ada was young, but she had done something that couldn’t be forgiven.
He looked over at the other young woman now occupying the XO’s chair.
“How you doing over there, Lieutenant Brower?” Les asked.
“I’m fine,” Layla said with a smile. “Not going to lie, though, and tell you that I don’t miss sunshine and clear water, but if we end up saving some people on this trip, it’ll be worth it.”
“Indeed,” Les said.
He looked down the row of stations to Eevi. “Ensign Corey, have we heard anything else from that bunker yet?”
“Negative, sir, but I’ll let you know the moment we do.”
Les got out of his chair and decided to go for a walk through the ship. “Timothy, you have the bridge,” he said on the way out.
The ship’s nuclear-powered engines rumbled softly in the bulkheads. He ducked under a low overhead into the mess hall for some grub.
Michael held a tray in his robotic hand, stacked with fresh fruit and some water.
“Hey, Captain, how’s it going?” he said.
“Fine. Just thought I’d get something to eat and stretch my legs. How about you, Commander?”
Michael held up the tray. “I’m taking Layla some food.”
“She probably could use some rest,” Les said. “Tell her I’ve got the watch when I’m back.”