Final Option (Oregon Files 14)

Now everybody in the Portland’s op center was smiling.

“You don’t want to keep me here to torture me?”

Tate shook his head. “This rogue military unit has a secret prison in Las Armas not run by the regular Army. Apparently, it makes the Black Hole of Calcutta look like a Ritz-Carlton. You’re going to be spending the rest of your long and very miserable life with a wonderful selection of fellow inmates.”

“But then you won’t be able to lord it over me when you eventually capture the Oregon.”

Tate knelt in front of Juan for effect. “I’m not going to attempt another hijacking, my old buddy. That ship has sailed, so to speak. No, I’m going to sink her. It’ll be on video, playing on a loop in your cell. I’m going to make you watch your own ship go down and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. I imagine th

at’ll be worse than any physical torture I can dream up. The sight of your crew dying over and over will break you. I guarantee it.”

Tate stood and took in a deep, refreshing breath. “You know what? I’m feeling better already just at the thought of it all. Let’s get him topside.”

Juan was unbound and shoved toward the exit. Up on deck, they were met by six soldiers in camo garb. Juan didn’t recognize any of them.

“Colonel Sánchez,” Tate said to the oldest one, “I present Juan Cabrillo, as we agreed.”

Sánchez stepped forward and said to Juan in his native tongue, “You killed my cousin.”

“That’s funny,” Juan replied in Spanish with a fluent Argentinian accent. “I don’t recall ever meeting someone as ugly as you. He must have gotten the good genes in the family.”

Sánchez sneered at him. “We’ll see how many jokes you want to make once we get you to Las Armas tomorrow.”

Tate held up a finger. “One more thing, Colonel.” He handed the Argentinian a generic prosthetic leg. “You’ll want to replace his fake leg with this one. He tends to keep all kinds of surprises inside his own.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Juan said.

“That’s me. Thoughtful. Good-bye, Juan. Maybe I’ll deliver the video to you in person so I can see firsthand what a good time you’re having.”

As the soldiers led Juan away, he called over his shoulder, “Visitors are always welcome!”

Before they left the ship, two of the soldiers held him tightly while another two switched out the prosthetic leg. The new one fit poorly, so Juan had to walk carefully to keep it from slipping off.

Before he got into the waiting truck, Juan pressed three times on his right thigh. That activated the backup tracker Julia Huxley had injected in his leg. Since it hadn’t been transmitting, Tate found only the one Juan wanted him to find. Juan’s original intent had been to lead the Oregon to the Portland via his tracker and ambush it, but that operation was obviously off the table.

Now Juan just had to hope the Oregon crew could intercept him before he got to the prison. From the sound of it, if he made it all the way to a cell, he might never get out.

32

OFF THE COAST OF ARGENTINA

Eddie Seng opened the top hatch on the Nomad after it surfaced in the Oregon’s moon pool. It was six hours after they had rescued Overholt from the diving bell. The smell inside the submersible had gotten noticeably rank from four men in such close quarters, so Eddie was happy to inhale the smell of seawater and oil.

Max and Linda were waiting on the deck next to the pool. Max had a gauze bandage across his nose and a bruise spreading on his face.

“Where’s Doc Huxley?” Eddie asked them as he helped Overholt out of the sub.

Overholt shook his head. “Don’t bother, I’m fine.”

“Still, I think she should give Mr. Overholt a thorough examination. We had to revive him after he inhaled some water.”

“The doc is pretty busy right now,” Max said with a grim expression.

“Does that have something to do with that bandage on your face?”

“Linda helped me put this on, but yes.”

Linc and Eric climbed out and joined them.