“He’s a friend of ours,” Eddie answered.

“Not the big guy,” Tao said. “The woman. She’s amazing. I’d like to see—”

“How easy it would be for her to break your kneecaps?” Juan interrupted. “Because I know you weren’t planning to say something cruder than that, were you?”

Tao opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Good,” Juan said. “Now, who is on this ship that we haven’t found? We know he’s not part of the crew.”

“Fine. It’s Rasul. We took him on as a passenger.”

Juan yanked Tao to a halt. “Where is he? Tell us or I’ll personally put you on a fishing hook and dangle you over the railing.”

“We searched all of the cabins,” Eddie said. “He wasn’t there.”

“Then I have no idea where he is,” Tao answered.

Juan stared at Tao, then spun him around and pushed him forward. “Show us the second container Rasul supposedly put on the ship. And if this one is empty, too, I might get angry.”

“And remember, you don’t want to see him when he’s angry,” Eddie said.

When they reached the container, Juan opened it again only to find nothing inside.

“I swear I didn’t know!” Tao whined when he saw Juan turn on him. Then something caught his eye. “Wait a minute, something’s not right.” He was peering at the number on the container.

Juan stepped closer to him. “What?”

Tao pointed at it. “I remember this number from the manifest because it ends with five nines. It’s an empty we were bringing back to India. This container should be in the last row.”

“They were switched?” Eddie asked.

“They must have been. The crane operators at the ports are easy to bribe.”

“Show it to us,” Juan said.

They walked to the last row of containers. Tao nodded at the reefer container on the starboard end. Juan pushed him to the side, and Eddie kept his P90 at the ready while Juan wrenched the door open.

They relaxed when they saw the interior was full to the top with crates marked Laranjas/Oranges.

“The Novichok could be stowed somewhere in here,” Eddie said.

“Maybe,” Juan said before keying his comm unit. “Max, send as many people over in NBC suits as you can. We need to rip this container apart.”

He was about to ask Tao about the owner of the reefer unit when he saw the Triton Star’s captain staring at something along the side of the container. Tao started to say something when his chest bloomed with three gunshot wounds from a suppressed automatic weapon whose staccato report nevertheless echoed off the metal around them. Tao collapsed in a heap without a sound.

Juan dove to the deck past the open door of the container, ready to fire at the unknown assailant. He got a glimpse of a man in a desert camouflage NBC suit ducking behind the end of the container. Juan fired off a volley of rounds, hitting nothing. The gunman was gone.

Eddie leaned over to check Tao but shook his head when he saw the mortal wounds.

Juan spotted an opening in the side of the container and cautiously approached. When he reached it, he glanced inside and saw what had to be a custom-made decontamination chamber, based on the nozzles built into the ceiling.

Eddie appeared at his side and pointed to the floor. Resting on it was a case with an empty slot in the foam, plus a duffel for the NBC suit.

Juan nodded and radioed Max as the two of them inched to the external corner of the container. “We found the person sending the messages, Max. Tao told us that Rasul was a passenger, so it’s got to be him. He has a decontamination unit, and he’s wearing an NBC suit.” Juan stuck his head out for a moment and saw an open hatch leading down into the interior accessway. “I think he’s planning to disperse the Novichok.”

“On the Triton Star?” Max said.

“Yes. Eddie and I are the only ones over here in suits, so evacuate everyone else to the Oregon right now.” Juan heard him give the order to Hali. “If Rasul tries to get aboard, shoot him.”

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