Shadow Tyrants (Oregon Files 13) - Page 44

“Makes you wonder who would go to that much trouble.”

“And why.”

“Let’s find out,” Juan said. “Surface the boat as close to the island as you can get.”

As he got his own equipment ready, Juan told the others about the sunken runway.

“Someone really doesn’t want anyone to know about this island,” Linc said as he checked his P90 submachine gun.

“Good,” MacD said, “then they won’t be expecting us.” Instead of an automatic w

eapon like the others had, he carried a high-tech crossbow. In the stock, it had a small battery-powered cocking motor, which allowed for quick reload. It was the perfect weapon for silent attacks.

“Who was on the plane when it went down?” Raven asked while donning the same set of glasses that everyone else wore. A tiny screen displayed the feed from the drone’s camera.

Eddie answered, “Almost a hundred technology experts who had been attending a convention in Dubai. They were from some of the most prestigious companies and universities around the world.”

The drone feed clearly showed that a few pieces of the plane had been removed, and records revealed they matched exactly with the wreckage that had been found on the shores of Oman and Yemen. Those parts must have been chosen because the serial numbers would have confirmed that the missing airliner had gone down at sea.

“It’s been more than a year since they disappeared,” Gomez said. He was still operating the drone, keeping an eye on the island to make sure they weren’t being observed. “You think any of them are still alive?”

“At least some of them might be,” Juan said. “If the hijackers simply wanted to kill the passengers, they could have picked a lot less expensive way to do it.”

“Keeping them prisoners in huts on a deserted island?” MacD said. “Doesn’t make sense to me.”

“And what does all this have to do with the attack on Diego Garcia?” Raven wondered.

“All valid questions,” Eddie said to Juan with a smile.

“And maybe we’ll be able to answer some of them after we take a little walk around the island,” Juan replied. “Everyone ready?”

They all answered in the affirmative. Linda surfaced only fifty yards from the beach right next to one of the caissons. As usual for the tropics, a rain shower from an isolated cloud was drenching the island.

Juan waited a few minutes for the quick downpour to pass, then led the way out of the hatch and stepped into the water. Here, the top of the caisson was just three feet below the surface.

When they were all out, Linda backed the Gator away and submerged until just the antenna and air snorkel were visible. The drone hovered above them, and Juan could see the aerial image projected onto his glasses.

As they began to wade forward, the drone flew on to scout ahead.

When they got to the edge of the jungle, the Airbus airliner came into view. The underside was still white. The giant plane loomed over them, casting deep shadows in the already dense thicket of trees.

One of the doors on the plane was open, but its emergency slide had been torn away. If they wanted a look inside, they’d have to climb. Maybe later, Juan thought. Right now, he wanted to explore the interior of the island.

MacD, an experienced hunter and tracker, caught everyone’s attention and waved them over. He pointed to the ground. The tire tracks that Juan had seen on the top of the caissons continued here under the cover of the foliage. Since there were no grooves on the sandy beach, they had to have been intentionally erased.

Instead of taking the tires’ path, they divided up and crept through the jungle parallel to it twenty yards away, Juan and Eddie on one side and MacD, Linc, and Raven on the other. Gomez kept the drone fixated on the path so they could see if anyone was coming to greet them.

Juan heard a clicking noise and stopped, holding up his hand for the others to do the same.

He looked up and saw what was making the rhythmic noise. A blue coconut crab the size of a bulldog was doggedly attempting to clip a coconut from the palm tree above him.

“At least we can be sure there aren’t any motion sensors,” Eddie whispered.

Juan nodded at the huge crab, which was three times as big as any lobster he’d ever seen. “Those guys would be setting them off constantly.”

As they walked away, the coconut finally came loose and fell to the ground. The crab scurried down the tree and hauled away its prize.

A thousand yards later, Juan spotted a building the size of a three-car garage and as tall as a semi. It was a modern metal structure painted camouflage like the plane. There was a door big enough for a truck to pass through, and another regular door beside it, both closed.

Tags: Clive Cussler Oregon Files Thriller
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