“But there’s no sign of a keystone anywhere near North Bimini Island?” Sam complained.
“The Antiqui Nautae!” Tom said. “They must have had the keystone. When they needed to increase the size of the swell, they simply placed it in the water. And that’s why, when they disappeared hundreds of years ago, so did the rogue waves.”
Sam swore. “Only now they’ve started up again.”
“And my guess, someone’s recently found the keystone.”
Chapter Thirty Six
His satellite phone rang. He answered it immediately. “Sam Reilly speaking.”
“Mr. Reilly it’s Captain Miller of the Global Star. I have something that I think you’re going to be interested in. Can you talk?”
Sam sat down on the side of the table. “Sure. What have you got?”
“It’s the Global Star. They’ve just started to remove some of the steel chine. Let’s just say the damage is a lot more extensive than you’d expect from a single rogue wave. I think you’re going to want to take a look at it.”
“Okay. Where did you say the ship was being salvaged for scrap metal?”
“Fort Lauderdale.”
“All right, I’ll fly in this afternoon. I’ll bring Veyron, my chief engineer. Maybe he’ll see something your guys don’t.”
Chapter Thirty Seven
Sam flew above the Global Star, which stood forlorn on the hard stand of the scrap metal shipping yard. The pride of his father’s fleet of cargo ships destroyed by a seemingly random event. Even from a hundred feet above it Sam could see the extent of the damage. They had already removed the outer chine — the hardened metal designed to keep the hull intact in the event of striking an iceberg or other catastrophic collision.
In this case, it had been peeled back to reveal the extent of the damage within the hull. Inside, not only had the main bulkheads been damaged, but the inner metal appeared to have been eaten away by some form of strong acid.
“What the heck causes something like that?” Sam asked and then banked the helicopter to provide Veyron with a better view of the damage.
“It sure looks like someone’s used an ocean of hard acid to dissolve its strength. Come on, take us down. Let’s go have a look at this poor lady.”
Sam nodded his head and then turned to land. He carefully placed the Sea King helicopter down on an open field overlooking the scrapyard. After waiting for the rotors to settle, he carefully shut down the system.
A man from the scrapyard met them as they walked towards the Global Star. Sam looked at him and took it all in with a moment’s glance. The guy looked like every stereotype of a friendly Texan, right down to the ten-gallon hat and revolver worn on the right side of his belt. He had a big smile to match his rotund stomach. “Mr. Reilly?”
“That’s me,” Sam said, extending his right hand. “This is Veyron, my chief engineer.”
The man shook it. “Donald Richardson’s my name. I’m the naval engineer in charge of taking this wretched ship to pieces for scrap metal.” The man spoke with a slow southern drawl. “Although I should let you know I take no pleasure in doing so. I’m sure she was a beautiful ship before the accident.”
“How’s it going?” Sam asked. “Captain Miller told me that you had some interesting findings as you stripped the chine from the hull. He said there were some things that I just had to observe for myself.”
“Follow me. I can fill you in as we walk.” Don examined them both, as though he were judging what sort of people had come to investigate his work. “Listen. How much did Captain Miller tell you about what we’ve found here?”
“Just that we need to observe it ourselves.”
“Right you are,” Donald replied.
The perimeter was enclosed by a wire fence with a roll of razor wire on top. They stopped at the front gate. Don typed the code into an electronic keypad and let them both through. “We’ve had a few unexplainable accidents ourselves since we received this ship. It’s become quite a problem. Our labor force is predominantly migrant workers — mostly Mexican. You know what that means when superstitions are involved?”
Sam shook his head. He had no idea what the man was talking about. “I’m sorry, what are you getting at?”
“Migrant workers. Mexicans. They’re awfully superstitious people.” Don looked at them both and winked, as though they knew exactly what he meant. “So you can see this run of bad luck is causing a real stir. All in all, we’d love to just get rid of the damn ship.”
Veyron caught Sam’s eyes with one of those faces that said, leave the guy a lone, he’s clearly not going to say anything useful, so just keep your mouth shut.
Don continued. “We’re all trying to work out what really happened to this ship to cause such irrevocable damage.”
“I don’t understand. I thought the damage to the hull was consistent with a significant frontal collision, most likely a hundred or so foot high wall of water. Are you now saying that’s not what caused the damage?”
“No, that’s about right — at face value anyway. But now that we’ve begun stripping the chine, we’re seeing some strange internal damage to the bulkheads.”
“Such as?” Veyron asked.
“Much of the metal has been damaged by some sort of strong acid. I still have to send some of the steal to a metallurgist for definitive answers, but I think it’s clear to say that something has eaten away at a significant amount of the ship’s insides.”
“Could it have been something they were carrying as cargo?”
“That’s what I thought to begin with. But the Global Star’s logbooks tell us she was carrying a shipment of cars. I spoke to Captain Miller and he assures me there’s no way either himself or someone aboard was taking on a private cargo of acid.”
“Someone might have hidden it?” Sam suggested.
“Not enough of it to cause this sort of damage.”
Sam climbed another set of scaffolding ladders and stopped. “So what do you think caused it then?”
“No idea. Captain Miller seemed to think you might be able to help us out with it.” He smiled. Kind of patronizing like. “Said you got some sort of sixth sense when it comes to shipwrecks.”
Veyron smiled. “Sam’s been involved in a number of shipwreck recoveries. He’s the best in the game. If there’s something to find here, we’ll come up with it.”
“So we’re thinking that whatever damaged the ship was acidic?” Sam asked.
“We’re not thinking anything at this stage. We’re just thinking it’s all pretty unusual if you ask me.” Reaching the height of the lower deck, Donald opened the door and entered the ship’s hull. “Now tell me, did Captain Miller tell you about the damn phosphorescence?”
“Yeah, he said something about it being radiant on the night of the collision.”
“I suppose it would have been. What with all that turbulence, but that’s not what I mean. I’m speaking about the problem with the phosphorescence since we got a hold of the ship.”
“You have a problem with plankton?” You could hear the ridicule in Veyron’s voice.
“Not plankton. That’s for sure.” Don forced himself to smile. He’d obviously been expecting such a response from the men who’d been sent to get some answers. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the bilge. It appears some of the water from that terrible wave ended up in the bowels of the ship. You’re gonna want to see this for yourself.”
They walked through the dark tunnels which open into the engine room. They passed the massive turbines and walked further downwards. A series of cables with floodlighting surrounded the walkways.