The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

“Why?”

To her right, Gamay saw Leilani stand. “I know why,” she said. “Otero messed with it.”

“Otero is in the brig,” the chief said.

“Marchetti told me he was a genius with computers,” she said. “He could have planted something ahead of time in case he was caught, in case he needed to cause some trouble and keep Marchetti off balance. Just like he did with the robots.”

The chief continued to try to bypass whatever was blocking him. “It’s definitely the computer,” he said. “Everything else is operating correctly.”

Gamay felt as if she was spinning. How this guy could reach out from the brig and torment them, she didn’t know.

“We need to go down there and force him to deactivate whatever he’s done,” Leilani said. “Put a gun to his head if we have to.”

Gamay’s mind raced. Her balance and convictions against coercion were suddenly fading when she thought of her husband trapped in an engine room filled with toxic fumes and running out of air.

“Gamay,” Leilani pleaded. “I’ve already lost someone to these people. You don’t have to.”

On the monitor, the temperature gauge dropped into the green and the clock ticked into the seventh minute. Paul had three minutes of air.

“Fine,” Gamay said. “But no guns.”

The chief turned to one of his men. “Rocco, take over, I’m going with them.”

Leilani grabbed the door and opened it. Gamay went through, headed for the elevator and the brig with no idea what she was going to do when she got there.

DOWN IN THE ENGINE ROOM, Paul had reached the missing crewman. He crouched beside the man and rolled him over. The man didn’t respond. Paul removed his gloves and checked for a pulse as Marchetti arrived at his side.

“Anything?”

Paul held his hand in place, hoping to sense something he’d missed. “I’m sorry.”

“Damn,” Marchetti said. “All this for nothing.”

Paul felt the same. And then in the flashing of his strobe he noticed something on the side of the man’s neck. He rolled the crewman a half turn and brushed his dark brown hair out of the way.

“Not totally for nothing,” Paul said, aiming his light at a dark bruise on the back of the man’s neck. He felt for the vertebrae, there was no rigidity.

“What’s wrong?”

Paul reached over and switched Marchetti’s radio off and then did the same to his own. Marchetti seemed confused.

With no one else listening Paul felt he could speak freely. He was not normally given to such leaps, preferring to be the calm, rational one while others shouted conspiracy theories and insisted the sky was falling, but he could see no other reason for all that had happened.

He looked Marchetti in the eyes and spoke loud enough for him to hear through the masks. “This man didn’t die from smoke inhalation or the heat. His neck’s broken.”

“Broken?”

Paul nodded. “This man was murdered, Mr. Marchetti. You have a saboteur on board.”

Marchetti looked stunned.

“It’s the only explanation for the fire and systems failures. Since you’re in here with me, I’m assuming it’s not you. But it could be anyone else. One of the skeleton crew or even a stowaway. Probably someone with hidden ties to Otero or Matson. I suggest we keep it to ourselves until we can figure out who it might be.”

Marchetti looked at the dead crewman and then back at Paul. He nodded.

Paul switched his radio on and scooped up the dead man. Marchetti turned his own radio back on. “We’re headed for the main door,” he said, informing the bridge.

DOWN ON THE LOWER DECK, Gamay, Leilani and the chief made it to the brig. The chief used his keys to unlock the cell door. Gamay stepped in. Otero looked up at her from his seat. His sullen eyes were dark.