Karin spoke up. “An interesting thing about Thomas Cavendish, the man who attacked the Manila galleon and divided her treasure between the Content and Desire, is that he limped back into London a year later, obviously minus the Content which was never heard from again, sporting new blue sails of pure damask — he was a huge success financially and by all other means, and at twenty eight faster than Sir Francis Drake, and then knighted by the Queen—”
Drake wondered for a moment where she was getting all this information. No laptop sat open on Karin’s knee. Then he remembered. “It’s so odd knowing someone with an eidetic memory.”
Karin ignored him. “And then being dead three years later.”
“Three years?”
“Yes, buoyed by his overwhelming success Cavendish set off on a second voyage of circumnavigation and died. Unknown causes. Unknown place. His name lost through time, remembered only by a brand of pipe tobacco.”
“That is thing about time,” Yorgi said. “It erases everything.”
Drake nodded wistfully. “Eventually, even heroes turn to dust.” He spoke before his brain caught up, then kicked himself. “Bollocks.”
Karin laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right.”
Drake, embarrassed, fished out his cellphone and distracted himself with a call to Hayden. The unofficial boss of SPEAR told him that in addition to their attempting to stave off a third mercenary assault she was in touch with a local facility that was studying ground penetrating radar images of the entire Arizona/California area in question, seriously searching for anything out of the ordinary, but had so far come up blank.
“You don’t realize the size of the area you have to cover,” Hayden said.
Drake grimaced at the windshield of the car. “Y’know, I think I do.”
“The old fashioned way not so good?”
“There’s a reason it’s called ‘old fashioned’.”
“Fighting for the US government has turned you marshmallow soft,” Dahl chimed in.
Drake laughed. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“Not that you Brits ever get far past soft, given the limits of your training.”
“Don’t even go there, pal.”
Dahl’s laugh drifting away told them he’d won that particular head-to-head, easily getting a rise out of Drake. Hayden returned and Drake explained what was going to happen to Karin. Hayden’s questioning eventually came back around to the subject of the ghost ships.
“So nothing’s jumped out at you yet?”
“Nothing that’s been buried in sand for five hundred years anyway.”
“Maybe it’s all a hoax designed to split us up.” Hayden sounded disappointed.
“And on that subject I think we should rejoin. We’re stretched. Alicia’s on the way, but still…”
“As soon as we’re done at Sierra Nevada we will rendezvous.”
“Good. Then you can take the ghost watch after midnight.”
“Sounds spooky.”
Drake was about to say, “It can be,” then heard Dahl mimicking a moaning ghost in the background. “Maybe you leave the Swedish chef behind? Do us all a favor.”
Jenny called a halt over the two-way as a glistening body of water came into view off to the left. The perimeter alone stretched further than the eye could see and there were stories that most of these reportedly lost ships were now underneath this actual sea, buried in its darkest depths. Drake suddenly felt a little overwhelmed.
“There has to be an easier way than this.”
Jenny clucked at him. “What? Ya don’t trust me now?”
“There’s one last thing,” Hayden said quietly. “We do have reinforcements on the way, but the sheer weight of enemy numbers tells us the Pythians have no concerns over that and no thought about the welfare of their men. We feel exactly the opposite. I have the ISN — the Institute of Soldier Nanotechnologies — on board. They’re based at MIT but have been tasked to supply us with their latest awesome invention — nanofoam body armor.”
Drake had heard the rumors. “It exists?”
“Of course it exists. We only hear about these things when they’re old news and the military experts have moved on. Yes, they’re still being tested but we might be able to get our hands on some.”
“I’m not sure I’d want to.”
“Trust me, you do. But hey, I’ll let you know.”
Drake ended the call, wondering just how many mercenaries were out there waiting, how big his reinforcement company might be and just what would happen when the showdown began.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Hayden joined Kinimaka and Dahl in the lobby of their hotel. The trio had just arrived back from Sierra Nevada, having spent the entire day prepping for an attack that hadn’t happened. With nothing more to be done they had decided to get some rest. Hayden was too tired for a sit-down meal and opted for taking a sandwich to bed. Kinimaka looked gutted.
“You stay.” Hayden pointed to the well-lit archway that led to the hotel’s restaurant. “Order a horse. With chips.”
The Hawaiian looked suspicious. “Are you saying that I’ve put on weight?”
Hayden laughed. “Of course not. But I do know you like your food.”
Kinimaka admitted defeat and headed inside. Hayden said goodnight to Dahl and took the elevator to their floor. Withdrawing her gun she entered her hotel room, eyes flicking left and right. A cursory check told her the room was empty and nothing appeared to be out of place. That led to a detailed check which also revealed nothing. Even so, Hayden didn’t undress when she went to bed. Instead, she kept the lights on and slipped under the top cover, logging onto the Wi-Fi and flicking randomly through her cellphone. Gradually, the automated exercise began to dull her mind and send her to sleep. There was a reason these phones were called Android, she mused, considering the robotic nature they implanted into their user.
Kinimaka came in not long later and never saw Hayden’s hand under the pillow, gripped around her Glock.
“Lock the door, Mano. Double lock it.”
“Always do.” Kinimaka gauged her weariness and then began undressing. “You tired?”
“I’m never too tired for that,” Hayden laughed at his obtuse question. “But, in truth, you did just choose a meal over me.”
“Eating’s important.” Kinimaka climbed into bed. “Gives you energy.”
Hayden knew the reply should be “you’re gonna need it” or something naughtier that might green-light their private carousing but the thought hit her then: private?
Inhibition pierced her like a long needle. Tyler Webb had the uncanny knack of being fully able to invade and spy upon her most private life and God only knew what he had already seen. Right now, she was drawing the line. There would be nothing more before they brought the bastard to cold, hard justice.
“Actually, Mano, I am a little tired. I think I’ll go to sleep.”
“Okay. Maybe in the morning then.”
Kinimaka slid in beside her, not noticing that she lay fully clothed beneath the sheet. He switched the light off without checking her wide-open eyes. Within seconds he was asleep, leaving her to make sure her phone was switched to “loud” in case the facility was threatened, to set her alarm and, with a deep breath of fear, to turn out the light.
Hayden woke early the next morning, feeling oddly refreshed. She stared at the ceiling, at the light flooding through the imperfect windows. The sunshine invigorated her; maybe she could slip onto the balcony and bask in it. A rumbling mountain lay at her side, most likely the reason she had awakened.