Gary sighed and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Are you all right, sport?”
“I’m fine. You have a hard job, Mom.”
“Some days harder than others,” Vivian said.
“At least we can give his family some closure,” Gary said. “We’ll take him back to Cairns with us so his body can be returned home.”
“I’ll go radio the Maritime Border Command,” Vivian said. “Better to let them know now than show up at port with a corpse. Then I’ll get a sheet to wrap him with.” She went below.
“Let’s see if we can find out who he is,” Gary said.
He went through the man’s pockets. He didn’t find any ID. Just a pack of Chinese cigarettes and a matchbook that had an image of two clinking glasses of beer. It read “The Lazy Goanna, Nhulunbuy.”
“I wonder what he w
as saying,” Gary said.
“Maybe I can find out,” Cameron said and began tapping on his phone.
“How?”
“Jeez, Dad. You can do anything on the internet now.” Their satellite connection and Wi-Fi system meant that even out in the middle of the ocean they could stream movies and browse the web.
Gary could hear the man’s last words on the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing the recording for a translation app,” Cameron said. After a few moments he frowned at the phone.
“What was he saying?”
“That can’t be right. Maybe this app doesn’t work.”
Gary looked at the phone’s screen and agreed with his son. The app couldn’t have translated the phrase correctly. Why would a man with mortal wounds keep repeating the words “the centaur left me”?
FIFTY-ONE
CHRISTMAS ISLAND
After a stopover in Surabaya, Indonesia, to refuel, Gomez landed the Oregon’s tiltrotor at Christmas Island’s airport at eight in the morning. In addition to Parsons, Juan had brought along Raven, MacD, Eddie, and Linc. As they climbed out, Juan noted that the only other airplanes on the tarmac were an Indonesian airliner and a private jet.
They couldn’t go around brandishing assault weapons on this small island, but Juan didn’t want to travel unarmed, not after the surprise attack on the Oregon. False bottoms in their bags were good enough to fool the customs agents, allowing them to at least have pistols with them.
At the airport’s exit, a beautiful woman with a blonde ponytail rushed toward them and threw herself into Bob Parsons’ arms.
MacD held out his hands toward the doors as if expecting his own enthusiastic greeting. When no other women came in, he joked, “Don’t we all get one?”
She extricated herself. “Bob, it’s so good to see you.”
Parsons looked shocked. “I thought you might not want to see me.”
“That was a long time ago. And I was the one who broke up with you, remember?”
“Because I wasn’t ready to settle down.”
“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”
Parsons suddenly noticed the five others looking at him. He cleared his throat.