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Authors: Clive Cussler

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BOOK: The Mediterranean Caper
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They stood mute and offered no affirmative or negative reply.

“As Darius has undoubtedly informed you,” Pitt went on, “Inspector Zacynthus and the Bureau of Narcotics are currently wasting their time and efforts in preparing a trap for the ship when it reaches Chicago. I shudder to think of the four-letter words that will fall on Lake Michigan when they discover nothing but the ship's crew wearing their best actor's smiles and the holds filled with nothing but the cocoa from Ceylon.”

Pitt paused and shifted his throbbing leg to a more comfortable position. He noticed that Knight and Thomas had joined Woodson below the hatch. Then he continued.

“It must be a great source of satisfaction to know that INTERPOL has taken your bait, hook, line and sinker. They're totally unaware that the sub and the heroin were dropped here last night in order to be transferred to the next Minerva Lines ship that happens past; which, by the way, should be the
Queen Jocasta,
bound for New Orleans with a cargo of Turkish tobacco and due to drop anchor a mile offshore in approximately ten minutes. That's why you're running scared, von Till. Time has caught up with you, and you have to gamble on a rendezvous with your ship in broad daylight.”

“You have a vivid imagination,” von Till said contemptuously. But Pitt could see the lines of concern in the old man's face. “There is absolutely no way you can prove your wild theories.”

Pitt ignored his words. He said: “Why should I bother? I'm going to die in a few minutes anyway.”

“You have a point, Major,” von Till said slowly. “I compliment you. Your perception is excellent. I see no harm in admitting that you are correct in everything you have said, with one exception: the
Queen Jocasta
will not dock in New Orleans. At the last minute, it will alter course for Galveston, Texas.”

The three men on the other sub had removed the guns from the Albatros and mysteriously dropped out of sight. Hersong stepped off the dock and passed a crate through the hatch to Spencer, who had now vanished into the hull with Thomas, Knight and Woodson. Pitt spoke quickly. He needed every second now.

“One question before Darius gets carried away. Out of old world courtesy, you can't deny me that.”

Darius stood there, his evil face masked with murderous intent. He looked like a sadistic kid in a biology class who could hardly wait to dissect a frog.

“Very well, Major,” von Till said conversationally. “What is it?”

“How will the heroin be distributed after it's unloaded in Galveston?”

Von Till smiled. “One of my lesser known business ventures is a small fleet of fishing boats; not a financially rewarding venture, I might add, but one that becomes quite useful at times. At the moment, my boats are dropping their nets in the Gulf of Mexico, awaiting my signal. When it comes, they will raise their nets and arrive in port at the exact same moment as the
Queen Jocasta
. The rest is simple: the ship releases the submarine, which is in turn led by the fishing boats to a cannery. The cargo is then unloaded under the building, and the heroin is packed into cans labeled catfood. I must say, it is ironic; all that powder being shipped into every one of your fifty states in catfood cans. The joke is on the Bureau of Narcotics. By the time their suspicions are aroused, it will be too late. The heroin will have already been received and carefully hidden. Admit it, Major, doesn't the prospect of all that heroin being smelled, swallowed or injected by millions of your own countrymen shock your holier-than-thou Yankee moral standards?”

Now Pitt was smiling. “It might, if it ever came to pass.”

Von Till's eyes narrowed. Pitt wasn't acting like a doomed man. Something very definitely was off key. “It
will
come to pass. I promise you that.”

“Millions of people,” Pitt said wonderingly. “You stand there with a smile on your ugly mouth and openly boast of the misery you're going to extract from millions of people for a few lousy dollars.”

“Hardly a few dollars, Major. I think half a billion dollars would be a closer figure.”

“You'll never live to count it, much less spend it.”

“And who is going to stop me? You, Major? Inspector Zacynthus? Possibly a lightning bolt from the sky?”

“Wishing will make it so.”

“I've had enough of his stupid words,” Darius said bitterly. “Now—now let him pay for his arrogance.” The supremely grotesque face was a cloud of black malevolence. Pitt didn't like the look—he didn't like the look at all. He could almost feel Darius' finger tighten around the trigger of the Luger.

“Come now,” Pitt said slowly. “Killing me now wouldn't be sporting. My eleven minutes aren't up yet.” Actually to Pitt, it seemed he had been talking for hours.

Von Till stood silent for several seconds and toyed with his cigarette. Then he said: “There is one point that intrigues me, Major. Why did you kidnap my niece?”

Pitt's lips tightened to a sly grin. “To begin with, she's not your niece.”

Darius' face went blank. “You—you could not have known.”

“I knew,” said Pitt evenly. “Unlike you, von Till, I didn't have the benefit of an informer, but I knew. All in all, Zacynthus gave it a good try, but his plan was headed for failure right from the start. He hid the genuine niece away in a safe place in England and found another girl who resembled her. They hardly had to be exact doubles since you hadn't laid eyes on the real Teri in over twenty years. Zacynthus also carefully planned his Mata Hari's cross-country vacation to look like nothing more than an innocent surprise holiday visit by a loving relative.”

Darius stared at von Till, his massive jaw seeming to grind Pitt's revelation to pieces. Von Till's expression didn't change. He just slowly nodded in apparent understanding.

“Too bad,” Pitt said, “it was all for nothing. You weren't the least bit surprised. Darius had seen to that. At that point, you had two choices: you could either expose the girl as an impostor and throw her out, or you could play along and feed her false information. Quite naturally your devious mind chose the latter. You were in your element. You felt like a puppeteer pulling strings. You could now play the girl and Darius on the ends against Zacynthus and Zeno in the middle.”

“An irresistable situation,” said von Till. “Do you agree?”

“You couldn't miss,” Pitt went on calmly. “From the time of her arrival until Giordino and I grabbed her from the villa, the girl's every move was closely watched by your chauffeur. Under the guise of a sort of bodyguard, Willie stuck with her like a leech. It must have been entertaining work, especially when she sunbathed on the beach. At that, her passion for early morning swimming was nothing but a means of making contact with Zacynthus. It was the only opportunity you gave her to pass him information, all of it worthless. How you must have laughed, knowing she was swallowing every bit of crap you fed her. Then something happened and Zacynthus began to get wise. Arriving late for their rendezvous one morning, he probably spotted Willie lurking in the bushes, both eyes unerringly focused on the girl in her bikini. Zacynthus couldn't help wondering if Willie had been there observing all the other predawn meetings. Suddenly he saw his well-conceived plan going down the drain. It looked as though you had outsmarted him again.”

“We could have regained the advantage,” Darius sputtered in pure rage, “except for you.”

Pitt shrugged. “Enter our hero, yours truly, who blundered onto the stage, little knowing he would get clawed, beaten and shot before the final curtain. My life would have been far less complicated if only I'd stayed in bed that morning instead of taking an early swim. When Teri discovered me, I was taking a nap on the tideline. It was still dark, and she mistook me for Zacynthus, thinking one of your men had murdered him. She damn near went into shock when my apparently lifeless body suddenly sat upright and started a light conversation.”

The pain wave hit him again and he gripped his leg as if trying to squeeze the agony away. He forced himself to go on, his words strained through gritted teeth.

“Something had gone very—very wrong. Zacynthus failed to show, and here was a total stranger who seemingly knew nothing about what was going on—add to that the staggering odds against an outsider accidentally swimming on that particular deserted beach at four in the morning, and you have one confused girl. I'll give her credit, she's a fast thinker. Considering the circumstances, she grabbed at the only conclusion open to her: I had to be on your payroll, von Till. So she went through her carefully rehearsed biography routine and invited me to the villa for dinner, expecting to throw you a curve by innocently introducing you to your own hired man.”

Von Till smiled, “I am afraid you cooked your own goose, my dear Pitt, with your ridiculous tale about being in charge of garbage collecting. She didn't really believe it, but oddly enough I did.”

“Not as odd as it seems,” Pitt said. “No trained agent in his right mind would ever use a cover as hokey as that one. You knew that. Besides, you had no cause for alarm; there was no warning from Darius. It was really only a joke on my part—one that backfired with rather painful results.”

Pitt hesitated, adjusting the belt covering his wound.

“When I appeared at your door wearing the oak leaves of a major, you immediately figured I was one of Zacynthus' agents, whom he slipped into the act without Darius' knowledge. Unwittingly I added fuel to your suspicions by damn near coming out and accusing you of enginering the raid on Brady Field. I was getting warm, too warm to suit you, von Till. Your solution was to play Houdini and make me disappear. The risk of exposure was small, the chances were that my body, or what was left of it, would never be found in the labyrinth. By this time the girl caught on to the fact that she had made a terrible mistake. I
really
was an innocent bystander who
really
happened to be swimming on that particular beach at four in the morning. It was too late, the damage was done. She could do nothing but stand by helplessly and keep her mouth shut while you disposed of me.”

Von Till looked thoughtful. “I think I see, I see indeed. You still assumed the girl was my niece, and you kidnapped her out of revenge.”

“You're half right,” Pitt came back. “Information was my other motive. When someone tries to kill me, I like to know why. Except for you, my only source for the answer was the girl. But Colonel Zeno appeared outside the labyrinth and put a crimp in my plan before I had a chance to question her. Even so, as matters turned out, I did Inspector Zacynthus a big favor.”

“I fail to understand,” Darius said icily.

“For Zacynthus the abduction was made to order; the girl's usefulness was over, and her life wasn't worth two cents. Somehow, he had to discreetly slip her away from the villa and off the island. As it turned out, I played into his hands and laid her at his feet on a silver platter. However, Zacynthus wasn't out of the woods yet. A new and totally unexpected pair of problems faced him: Giordino and myself. He knew we were out to get your scalp, and, as much as he liked the idea, he still had to stop us. Legally, he had no jurisdiction and couldn't detain us by force. So he did the next best thing and asked us to cooperate with INTERPOL. That way he could watch us like a hawk.”

“You are quite correct, Major.” Von Till ran a hand over his hairless pate, wiping the moisture from the gleaming skin. “I had every intention of killing the girl.”

Pitt nodded. “I wondered why Zacynthus was so insistent that I keep Teri on board the
First Attempt
. She'd be safe from you, and could keep an eye on Giordino and me. It didn't dawn on me until this morning what game the girl was playing and whose side she was on.”

Darius stared at Pitt in bleak puzzlement. “What goes on here, Major Pitt? You could not possibly have known all this.”

“Nice girls don't carry twenty-five-caliber automatic Mausers taped to their legs,” Pitt said. “That's a sure sign of a professional. Teri wasn't carrying a gun when I met her on the beach—Giordino discovered it when he snatched her off the couch in the villa's study. Obviously, she feared someone inside, not outside the villa.”

“You are even more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” von Till said bitterly. “I may have slightly underestimated you. But it makes little or no difference on the outcome.”

“Only slightly underestimated?” Pitt asked consideringly. “I wonder. If I've been wise to the girl's deception, why do you think I'd stand by and allow her to drug the
First Attempt
's radio operator so that she could sneak off a message to Inspector Zacynthus, announcing my intention to explore the cavern?”

“The answer is simple,” von Till said smugly. “You didn't know Darius was working for me. He received the girl's message, but, unfortunately for you, neglected to pass it on to Inspector Zacynthus. Face it, Major, you got involved with matters far above your head.”

Pitt didn't reply immediately. He sat quite still, absorbing the pain that burned in his leg, wondering if now was the right moment. It would be impossible to go on much longer—his vision was beginning to blur around the edges—yet he couldn't overplay his hand. He turned his head slightly and stared dully up at Darius. The Luger still aimed at Pitt's navel. This had to be it, he told himself—he hoped to God his timing was right.

BOOK: The Mediterranean Caper
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