Max turned to Juan with a frown. “You think this was all to see if their pseudo-EMP weapon worked?”
Juan held up his fingers and ticked off the answers one by one. “Isolated base. High-profile target. Supposedly hardened against this kind of attack. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to make this operation work. What I can’t figure out is why they launched when they did.”
“It does seem odd,” Max said. “They could have launched the missile long before we intercepted the Triton Star.”
“Which makes me think Camp Thunder Cove wasn’t the original target. It was sheer luck that we were available to intercept the Triton Star. We know that Rasul’s mysterious connection sent him the coordinates of Diego Garcia after we arrived.”
“So what was the original target?”
“I don’t know. Tao mentioned that Rasul’s containers were supposed to be delivered to somewhere called Jhootha Island. But if he was going to fire a missile from one of those containers and then kill the crew, why set course for that island?”
“Maybe he wanted to launch the missile from Jhootha Island.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“What’s on the island?”
“And what’s nearby? I have Eric and Murph checking into those questions. But I think we should go there and check it out.”
Max shook his head. “Sounds like a long shot to me.”
“The CIA thought so, too. Do you have any other bright ideas? I’m all ears.”
“That wasn’t a criticism,” Max said with a smile. “Your long shots usually come through.”
When they reached the Oregon, Max and Juan headed to the op center, where they found Eric and Murph in a heated discussion.
“Why would they go there?” Murph said, notably exasperated. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“How should I know?” Eric shot back. “But that’s where Tao said they were heading.”
“Okay, you two,” Juan said as he and Max entered. “You can settle your differences by video game duel later. Is this about a certain island I asked you to investigate?”
Eric nodded. “We found Jhootha Island, all right.”
“But it’s highly unlikely the Triton Star’s size would regularly be able to stop there to unload a container,” Murph said.
“Why is that?” Juan asked.
Eric brought up a satellite image of the island on the main viewscreen. It was circular, ringed with sandy beaches, and covered in tropical jungle. No roads or settlements were visible.
“This is Jhootha Island—its Indian name—two hundred miles off the west coast of India,” Eric said. “On Western maps, it’s known as Killington Island, named after its discoverer. As you can see, it’s surrounded by atolls, and there are no natural harbors or coves big enough for a yacht, let alone a large containership. There’s definitely no pier.”
“Maybe Tao unloads the contents of the containers and transfers them to a tender,” Juan said. “A small boat could make landfall on the island.”
“If they did,” Murph said, “I can’t tell you why they’d want to. Not when they’d be killed the moment they set foot on land.”
“Why?” Max asked. “Is it full of poisonous snakes like that island near Brazil?”
Eric shook his head. “It’s home to a tribe of natives who are completely cut off from the modern world and hostile to anyone intruding on their territory.”
“Killington landed there by accident and got a spear through the gut for his trouble,” Murph said. “But they named the island after him, so that’s a nice consolation prize.”
“We knew the Triton Star was heading somewhere called J Island because of their computer records,” Juan said. “Tao then gave us the name Jhootha Island without prompting. He had no reason to lie about it, so I’m inclined to believe that’s where they were going.”
“That would be an oddball destination,” Murph said. “The Indian government has declared Jhootha Island off-limits to outsiders.”
“Which makes me want to take a look even more now,” Juan said as he sat in his command chair. “Discreetly, of course. Eric, lay in a course.”