Bazin had always thought his inaugural use of them would be when he rode into Port-au-Prince to take command of the government in his planned coup d’état. Now he’d get to test them in action against Juan Cabrillo and his crew if they were bold enough to attempt an attack, and he was looking forward to seeing how much damage the armor-piercing rounds could dish out.

He grinned at the thought of Cabrillo staring down the barrel of the cannon just as he pulled the trigger.

—

All Kensit needed was some popcorn. Sitting at his viewing station was like watching the most open-ended and unpredictable reality TV show ever made. And if it got boring, he could change the channel. Right now, he was tuned in to his favorite program, The Juan Cabrillo Show.

Cabrillo was currently in his boardroom talking with four of his men, Eddie Seng, Franklin Lincoln, Mike Trono, and Gomez Adams. The captain’s efforts to thwart him were truly inspired, but they would ultimately come to naught since Kensit could simply watch their discussions and movements in real time.

“We’ll take off in the chopper a half an hour before mission go time,” Cabrillo said.

“I’ll be ready,” said Adams, the helicopter pilot. His dashing looks added to the sense that Kensit was watching a TV series, albeit one with an unlimited budget.

“Eddie, get us kitted out like we were for the Argentina incursion.” They’d been speaking in this vernacular, referencing old missions, ever since they’d learned about the neutrino telescope. Kensit wished he could delve into them, but all remote access to the Oregon’s database had been locked out. Sentinel was unable to view computer code.

“I’ve got the techs working on putting our gear together,” Seng said. “I’ll get down there once we’re finished with the briefing.”

“Good,” Cabrillo said. “We’ll keep this op simple. I’ll tell Gomez where we’re going to land when we get close to the target. We’ll split up and attempt our infiltration of the cement plant in two teams, Eddie and Linc on one and me and Trono on the other. Linda’s team will be feeding us recon intel upon landing.”

Kensit had already checked their radios, but they were using hardware encryption based on frequency-hopping algorithms, so Bazin wouldn’t be able to listen in on their conversations without his help.

“Once we’ve captured Kensit and the neutrino telescope, we’ll shut it down until we can figure out what to do with it.?

?

Kensit smiled at that. Cabrillo had no clue that Kensit was hundreds of miles away.

Cabrillo scanned his team. “Any questions?”

“Seems pretty straightforward to me,” Lincoln said.

Trono nodded. “No problemo.”

Kensit admired the offhanded way in which they were all going to their doom.

“All right,” Cabrillo said. “It’s 2100 hours. We should be on-station in the Bahia de Grand Pierre in an hour. Make sure you get a few hours of sleep after you’ve prepared your equipment.”

They all nodded. Kensit checked his map and saw that the Bahia de Grand Pierre was an isolated bay on the west coast of Haiti. It was well chosen. Cabrillo could launch his helicopter in daylight without being seen, and it was just fifty miles from the cement plant, about twenty minutes of flying time.

The men filed out, but Cabrillo stayed behind, studying the table as if he were contemplating a difficult decision. Then he looked up and stared right at Kensit as though he knew where the camera was.

“Lawrence Kensit,” Cabrillo said, “I have something to say to you.”

Uncharacteristically for him, Kensit was startled. He should have expected the direct address, but it was eerie all the same.

“I don’t know if you’re watching and listening to me,” Cabrillo continued. “I may be talking to myself, but if you’re out there, you should know something.”

The surprise gone, Kensit leaned forward in his chair. The connection between the two of them was almost palpable.

Cabrillo’s expression radiated malice, like a circus tiger prodded one too many times. The penetrating intensity shooting through the telescope chilled Kensit’s blood.

“I’ll only say this once,” Cabrillo said, “and then you’ll never hear me talk to you again. You may think you’re a genius, Kensit, but you’re not infallible. You made a huge mistake when you went after my crew. They’re my family. Maybe a loner like you doesn’t understand the importance of family, but your attacks made the situation between you and me personal. I don’t care what advantages you think you have, I promise that I will find you. And when I do, you’ll discover that my retribution is swift and mighty.” Cabrillo stood and grinned. “Spend this night well, Kensit. It just might be your last.”

Cabrillo chuckled as he walked out of the room. “That was even more fun than I thought it would be.”

But Kensit wasn’t laughing. Try as he might to take Cabrillo’s words as nothing more than tough talk, for the first time since he began to develop Sentinel Kensit actually felt uneasy.

The first shimmer of dawn peeked above the hills now denuded of the thick forest that Linda had seen in Gunther Lutzen’s photos of the area in 1902. The vegetation that had sprung up in its place was a thicket of small trees and bushes that covered the gullies and ridges around Lake Péligre.

Tags: Clive Cussler Oregon Files Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net