The Jungle (Oregon Files 8)
Page 72
“We are not so close anymore,” she admitted sadly.
Cabrillo knew that pretty soon she’d have to be told that in all likelihood her father was dead. Bahar had what he wanted, so Roland Croissard had become a loose end. They would keep searching, of course, but the odds were long that the Swiss financier had been left alive.
“Okay, then,” Juan said, and stood. “You get some rest, and we’ll talk more later.”
“There are some people I’d like to call. My father and some friends.”
“I might as well tell you now. Your father is missing. We’ve been trying to reach him for several days but haven’t had any luck. Also, I’m afraid that until we have a better handle on the situation we need to keep up the pretense that you died back on that oil rig.”
“My father? Missing?”
“And the last time anyone saw him he was with the man that most likely kidnapped you in Zurich.”
Guilt, fear, and anger played across her face in a kaleidoscope of emotions. She sat as still as a statue, a beautiful mannequin, her soul having just been torn out.
“I am sorry,” Juan said softly. He wished she hadn’t asked about making calls. She wasn’t ready to hear this kind of news. Not now.
Soleil finally looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes that he wanted more than anything else to satiate. He’d never seen such naked vulnerability. Now he was in territory where he wasn’t all that comfortable because it brought up feelings of his own loss. He hadn’t been told about his wife’s death until he’d returned from a mission for the CIA and she’d been in the ground for weeks.
With relief he saw her firm up, straighten her shoulders, and harden her eyes. “I think I would like to get dressed and walk the deck, if that is okay. I have not seen sunshine or felt fresh air in a long time.” She pointed to a suitcase just outside the bathroom that he recognized as coming from the wardrobe section of the Magic Shop. Linda and Kevin Nixon had already kitted her out.
“Of course,” Juan quickly agreed. “If you need anything, feel free to ask any of the crew. Even though we didn’t find you where we expected to, they’re all relieved that you’re safe.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“Cocktails in the dining room at six. Dinner’s casual, but I’ll wear my cape for you.”
She smiled wanly at his attempt at humor, and Cabrillo took his leave. He finally tracked down Linda. She was in the exercise room with Eddie Seng. Both were dressed in the traditional gi of martial arts training and were locked in a fight for dominance on the dojo floor.
“Not enough action for one day?” Juan teased.
Linda flared. “That dirtball Smith got the drop on me back in the jungle, and I want Eddie to show me what I did wrong.”
Seng had degrees in several styles of fighting and was the Corporation’s instructor.
“It can wait. We need to talk.”
Linda bowed to Eddie and came across the padded mats in bare feet. “I’ll tell you right off the top that Smith didn’t give away much. As soon as he got me to Yangon he hit me with happy juice.”
“And you woke up on the chopper, heading out to the rig.”
“How did you know that?” she asked, one eyebrow arching.
“I’m Superman. Actually, I just had a chat with Soleil.”
“Chat, eh?”
Juan didn’t take the bait. “Was Smith with you in the chopper?”
“Yes. And he had the bag. And he made his only mistake. It was on the floor between him and the pilot, and, just before we landed, he opened it. Inside were ruby crystals, big ones. I’d say a foot long or longer, and they’d already been cut and polished. I’d never seen anything like it in my life.”
Cabrillo had a hard time believing this was all an elaborate smuggling scheme. There had to be something beyond that.
Linda was still talking. “Once we landed I continued to play rag doll. They took me straight to the cell with Soleil, so I don’t know if Smith hung around for the final act or not.”
“I suspect not. Bahar went through a lot of trouble to get that bag. He’d want the stones as soon as possible. Let me ask you something. I discovered that two entire floors of that rig were crammed with computers. I’m talking thousands of interlinked machines. Any ideas?”
“Ask the brain trust. Mark and Eric are the computer nerds.”