Final Option (Oregon Files 14)

The moment the lock was empty, Eric pulled the interior door open, and Eddie lay Overholt on the floor.

“Oh, man,” was all Eric said, before closing the door so he could refill it to let Linc in.

Eddie turned Overholt onto his back to clear the water from his throat and then felt for a pulse. Nothing. He began chest compressions, being careful not to press too hard and break the elderly man’s ribs.

He counted to thirty and checked again. Still nothing.

Eddie tilted Overholt’s head back to open the airway and administered two quick mouth-to-mouths. Then he started CPR again.

After five pumps to the chest, Overholt coughed. He convulsed, and water spewed from his mouth.

Eddie turned him over, and more water drained from Overholt’s lungs. He shuddered as he struggled to draw in air, and he finally gasped in a ragged breath.

The air lock cycled again, and Linc emerged as Eddie helped Overholt sit up. Linc let out a sigh of relief and clapped Eric on the shoulder.

“You had us worried there, Mr. Overholt,” Eddie said.

Overholt coughed again, then said, “I never doubted this would work . . . Where’s Juan?”

Eddie looked at Eric, who said, “Tiny called in from the plane. He saw the Chairman get pulled aboard a sub that disappeared.”

“Then Tate has him,” Overholt said, shaking his head. “Juan traded himself for me.”

“Just like he wanted to,” Linc said.

Overholt looked at the three of them with a puzzled expression. “You mean, that was Juan’s plan the whole time? He wanted to get captured?”

Eddie nodded. “To fool Tate, we had to make the rescue look well executed until you ‘died.’ Everything went exactly how the Chairman sketched it out. I just hope the rest of his plan works.”

28

Juan climbed out of the submersible Tate called the Deceiver and into what looked like an exact duplicate of the Oregon’s moon pool. The only thing missing was the Nomad hanging from the gantry cradle. The catwalks above were packed with gawking crew members.

All work had stopped. All eyes were locked on Juan as Tate led him onto the deck beside the pool.

“Don’t tell me they’ve never seen a real captain before,” Juan said.

“Everybody here has a personal stake in capturing you,” Tate said, before raising his hands in victory and yelling to the crowd. “I promised you this day and I delivered! We got him!”

A huge cheer went up from the gathered crew as if they had witnessed the winning goal at the World Cup. The clapping and hooting went on for a full minute.

“That certainly was a warm welcome. But what’s the personal stake?”

“You’ve made all of their lives miserable in one way or another. You’ve killed family members, ruined businesses, sunk ships, or caused them to be exiled from their countries.”

“So they’re all criminals,” Juan said. “Like you.”

“Only because of your actions. Many of them see themselves as freedom fighters who got caught before they could finish the revolution. Or, like me, they were doing the right thing, and you didn’t like the methods. It took me a long time to recruit them, but they’ve been very motivated to carry out this mission.”

“Then they’re also deluded. Like you. Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with? That’s what you all want, isn’t it?”

“You’re too smart to believe that, old pal,” Tate said. “I could have done that already, as you well know.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To make you suffer the way you made me suffer.” Tate raised his arms again to indicate all those around him. “The way you made all these people suffer.”

Juan took a breath as he thought about that. “Torture for torture’s sake isn’t your style. Even for someone as amoral as you.”