She focused her vision. The little bug looked fairly normal except for a long, skinny neck and head that stuck out from its body like an extension attachment on a vacuum cleaner.
She couldn’t believe they’d gotten so lucky. She figured the bad news was coming next. “Let me guess. Somalia?”
“No,” he said. “Much closer. The west coast of Madagascar.”
“Madagascar?” she repeated.
He nodded. “You see, the island of Madagascar broke off from Africa a hundred sixty million years ago,” he explained. “India was still attached to it at the time. But, eighty million years ago, India itself was torn loose by plate tectonics.
“As the three landmasses were pulled farther and farther apart, animals and plants left on Madagascar evolved differently from those in the rest of the world. As with Australia, there are hundreds of species that call only Madagascar home. You’ve discovered three of them on your floating wreck. Which tells us it was parked there for quite a while before it floated back out to sea.”
“And the crocodile?” she asked.
“Plenty of them in Madagascar,” he said.
Gamay nodded. The evidence was clear. The Waratah had spent her time aground on the western shores of Madagascar. The only questions now were where, and why someone was interested in sinking her.
Kurt Austin felt himself falling, dropping weightless, into the darkness, his nerves tingling at the sensation. He plunged into the water and the cold sting opened his eyes. Suddenly he could see. Murky blue surrounded him, but there was light up above and the strange sight of waves toppling from beneath as they rolled over him.
He kicked for the surface and came out into a storm. Winddriven rain lashed the sea, and swells the size of railroad cars buoyed him up and then dropped him down once again. The yacht, the Ethernet, was ahead of him. Sienna and her family were on it.
He kicked toward it and pulled himself aboard as a wave brought him up on the deck that was nearly awash in the storm. Struggling toward the bridge, shouting for Sienna, he found himself pushing through the main hatch only to be clubbed in the back of the head and slammed to the floor.
The impact at the back of his skull nearly knocked him unconscious; he was woozy and dazed. The next thing he knew, someone was slamming him against the bulkhead and trying to choke him.
“Where the hell did he come from?” a voice shouted from the other side of the bridge.
“There’s a rescue copter outside,” the man holding him called back.
Kurt knocked the man’s hand from his t
hroat, but the man flung him down and put him in a headlock.
Not one to lose many fights, Kurt was aware of weakness in his limbs that must have come from the initial blow to the back of his head. Having been concussed several times in his life, Kurt recognized the symptoms. The ringing in the ears, tunnel vision, dizziness. The blow should have put him out, might have even killed him. But, then again, Kurt has always been a hard head.
He looked up, trying to assess the situation. The man at the far end had a woman by the arm.
“Sienna?” Kurt said weakly.
She looked over at him. “Kurt?” she said.
She tried to pull free and reach for him, but the man yanked her back and handed her off to a subordinate. “Get her to the escape pod. Her husband and the children are already there.”
Sienna struggled against them but could not break free. As she was dragged into the ship, Kurt could hear her shouting his name. He tried to stand, but his assailant was too heavy for Kurt to overcome in his current state.
“What about the rest of us?”
“We’ll be joining her as soon as we get rid of this one.” The man dropped down beside Kurt, flipped open a knife, and went for the cable that attached Kurt to the harness.
Kurt heard the helicopter through the storm and saw the spotlight probing around. It spurred the dim realization that he wouldn’t survive if these men cut the cable connecting him to it.
He snapped free, kicked the man with the knife, and lunged for the door only to be tackled again.
“Kill him.”
The man cocked the hammer on the pistol, but Kurt spun and kicked the man’s knee. The weapon discharged, hitting the clear ceramic wall. The wall didn’t shatter, but cracks spread across it like veins. Before Kurt could make a second move a boot caught him in the chin, and the man holding him pressed him down into the water, trying to drown him.
Despite every effort, Kurt could not push hard enough to rise up.