Authors: Clive Cussler,Jack Du Brul
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #Men's Adventure, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #Composition & Creative Writing, #Language Arts, #Mercenary Troops, #Cabrillo; Juan (Fictitious Character), #Cruise Ships
“Please, call me Adam. Well over two hundred.”
“All successful?”
“I wish I could say yes, but that’s not the case. I’ve had a handful commit suicide, and even more return to the cult. It’s sad, really. People get sucked in by what they perceive to be the good works of the Responsivists, but it’s only when they have been there for a while that the group begins to exert more and more control, especially by making its members lose contact with their loved ones. Once that happens, it is sometimes difficult to get them to return to their real lives.”
“Why do people let it happen?” Eddie asked, but he already knew the answer. It was the same in Chinatown when he was a kid. The pressure to join a gang was intense, and, once you did, they never let you go.
“Loneliness, a sense of disconnect from the world. The Responsivists make them feel they are part of something much larger than themselves, something important that can give them meaning. It’s pretty much the same symptoms that lead others to drugs or alcohol, and the rehabilitation is similar. So you have successes as well as failures.”
“According to his mother, Kyle’s been involved with Responsivism for only a few months, so I think he should be okay.”
“Duration has nothing to do with it,” Jenner countered. “It’s how deeply he has allowed them to poison his mind. I had a case once where a woman had been going to Responsivist meetings for only two weeks when her husband became concerned and hired me. She ended up leaving him and is now the secretary to the director of their Greek retreat where you rescued your son. Pattie Ogdenburg. Funny how you remember the names of your failures but never those of your successes.”
Max and Eddie nodded in unison. They had shared many of each together.
“I’m curious,” Eddie said into the gathering silence, “how does someone as successful as Donna Sky get mixed up in something like this?”
“Same as everyone else. Just because she has awards and accolades and an entourage doesn’t mean she’s any less lonely than anyone else. Oftentimes, celebrities are more estranged from reality than most and are easily swayed. Out in the real world, she’s mobbed by fans, but within the organization she’s just Donna. And yet, her fame helps recruit new members all the time.”
“I will never understand any of this,” Max groaned.
“Which is why you hired me.” Jenner spoke in a bright voice to lighten the somber mood. “You don’t need to understand it. All you have to do is be ready to show your son how much you love him.”
“Do you know anything about a Responsivist center in the Philippines?” Eddie asked to change the subject.
Jenner paused to think about the question. “Not specifically. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had family-planning clinics there, but . . . No, wait, that’s right. There was talk about them opening another retreat. I believe they have bought land someplace, but nothing’s been built. Or very little anyway.”
“What about leasing a cruise ship?”
“You’re talking about the
Golden Dawn
? What a horrible tragedy. I suspect that is what they call a Sea Retreat. They have done that a number of times over the past couple of years. They often lease out an entire ship, or book at least half the cabins, and hold meetings and discuss the movement. I went on one just to see what it was all about. It seemed to me that it was a recruiting tool to get at lonely widows still flush with their late husbands’ pensions.”
Jenner stood. “I should go check on Kyle.”
When he was out of the room, Max crossed to the sideboard where bottles of liquor were lined up like soldiers on parade. He splashed some whiskey into a cut-glass tumbler and indicated to Eddie if he wanted one, too. The former spook declined.
“This isn’t a mission,” Max said, taking a sip. “You don’t need to teetotal.”
“Just the same. So what do you think?”
“I think we hit the jackpot with him. He certainly knows what he’s dealing with. You?”
“I agree. Linda did a great job finding him, and I’m sure that Kyle will be fine.”
“Thanks for babysitting us,” Max said, but there was much more behind the words.
“You’d do the same for any of us.”
Max’s cell phone purred. He reached into his pocket for it. The caller ID read CHAIRMAN.
“We’re here, safe and sound,” he said by way of greeting.
“Glad to hear it,” Cabrillo replied. “Was Jenner there?”
“Yes. Eddie and I were just talking about how lucky we feel to have found him.”
“Good.”
“How’s everything on the
Oregon
?”
“I just got off the phone with Langston. I think I need Julia to install a colostomy bag, because he ripped me a new one for driving the ship through the Corinth Canal.”
“Little angry, was he?”
“Oh, my friend, angry was not the word. Through back channels, he’s trying to convince the Greeks it wasn’t some terrorist plot to destroy the canal. They want to call out NATO, for heaven’s sake.”
Max winced. “What did I tell you about you and your damned plan Cs.”
Juan chuckled. "If any future operation requires a plan C, you can have my resignation.”
“I heard that, and Eddie’s my witness.”
Cabrillo turned serious. “How’s Kyle doing?”
“He’ll be coming out of the drugs pretty soon. We’ll know then.”
“You’ve got a whole boatload of people pulling for the both of you.”
“This has been tough,” Max admitted. “A lot tougher than I had realized.”
“He’s your son. Even if you two aren’t close, you still love him. Nothing changes that.”
“It’s just that I’m so angry.”
“No, Max, you’re guilty. Two separate things, and you’ve got to get over it or you won’t be able to help him. Life happens the way it happens. Some things we can change and some things we can’t. You just have to be smart enough to know the difference and act accordingly.”
“I feel like I let him down, you know?”
“And there isn’t a parent in the world who doesn’t feel that way about their kids at some point in time. That’s all part of the process.”
Max digested what Cabrillo said and nodded. Realizing Juan couldn’t see the gesture, he grudgingly said, “You have a point. It’s just . . .”
“Tough. I know. Max, when we’re on an op, we plan out every detail, every possible contingency, so we’re never surprised. And, even then, we get thrown curves. Think about trying to do that in the other parts of our lives. It’s impossible. You’re doing what any good parent does. You’re there for Kyle now. You can’t say that this would or wouldn’t have happened if you’d been around when he was growing up. Just deal with the here and now. Okay?”
“You’re going to make a hell of a father someday.”
“Are you kidding me?” Juan laughed. “I know how rotten the world is. I wouldn’t let a kid out of his bedroom until he was at least thirty, and even then I’d only let him go as far as the fenced-in yard.”
“Where are you guys now?”
“Almost due south of you. We’ll hit the Riviera late tomorrow night and have full surveillance of the arms dealer in place by the following morning.”
“I should be with you.”
“You should be with Kyle. Don’t worry about anything. Take all the time you need. Okay?”
“Okay.” Eddie gestured for the phone. “Hold on, Eddie wants to talk to you.”
“Juan, I was talking with Jenner, and he mentioned the Responsivists have hired cruise ships in the past.”
“And?”
“Could be a wild-goose chase, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Eric and Mark cross-reference those voyages to see if anything weird went down.”
“Not a bad idea. Anything else?”
“He said there are rumors they are building a new retreat in the Philippines. If there was something like four hundred Responsivists on the
Dawn
when she sank, I think they’re further along in construction than Dr. Jenner knows. Might be worth checking out.”
“Two for two,” Cabrillo remarked.
Jenner stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. In a stage whisper, he said, “Kyle’s coming awake. I think it’s best if you two leave us for a while.” He went to his medical bag and withdrew a cylindrical object about the size of a soup can. “This is a locking device that goes over the suite’s doorknob so it can’t be opened from the inside.”
“Juan, we have to go,” Eddie said into the phone and cut the connection.
Max was on his feet. “For how long?”
“Give me your cell phone number and I will call you. Probably an hour or two. Kyle and I will talk some, and then I will administer a sedative.”
Max looked at the closed bedroom door and at Jenner, conflicted about what was right.
“Trust me, Mr. Hanley. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay.” Max jotted down his number on a piece of hotel stationery. He let Eddie lead him out of the suite and into the richly paneled elevator vestibule. Eddie could see the concern in Hanley’s face even in the distorted reflection of the polished brass doors. Behind them, they heard Jenner slipping the clamshell lock over the doorknob.
“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“I think I’m in the mood for Italian,” Max quipped, to show he wasn’t totally out of it.
“Sorry, mate. Chinese food or nothing.”
CHAPTER 18
AS THE OREGON DROVE THROUGH THE DARK WATERS of the Mediterranean at a little over twenty knots, far below her true capabilities because there were dozens of other vessels plying the shipping routes, there was almost no sensation of movement in her tastefully appointed dining room. If not for the background hum of her magnetohydrodynamic engines and her pump jets, Cabrillo felt like he could be sitting at a five-star restaurant on some fashionable boulevard in Paris.
Juan wore a summer-weight sports jacket over a custom dress shirt open at the collar. His cuff links were tiny compasses and his shoes were Italian leather. Across from him, Linda Ross wore cargo pants and a black T-shirt, and, even without makeup, her skin glowed by the candlelight, highlighting the dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose.
Juan twirled the stem of his wineglass and took an appreciative sip. “If Maurice is going to have his staff prepare a special dinner, the least you could do is dress for the occasion.”
Linda slathered a piece of still-warm bread with unsalted butter. “I had brothers growing up. I learned to eat fast and as often as there was food around. Otherwise, I’d go hungry.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Ever watch one of those nature shows when sharks are in a feeding frenzy or a pack of wolves have taken down a deer? My oldest brother, Tony, would sometimes even growl at us.” She smiled at the memory.
“My parents insisted on table manners at all times,” Juan said. “I’d get grounded for putting my elbows on the table.”
“Our only rule was, utensils had to be used on the food and not each other.”
“Are you sure about tomorrow?” Juan asked, turning the conversation back to work. Even in these sumptuous surroundings, the specter of their chosen profession was never far off.
“I’ve been cramming all day. I might not be ready to lead a Responsivist revival, but I can more than hold my own in a conversation with one of them. I have to admit that the more I learn about them, the weirder it gets. How anyone can believe that an alien intelligence from a parallel universe can control your life is beyond me.”
“It takes all kinds, I suppose,” Juan said. He’d always believed that as long as it didn’t hurt others, people’s belief systems were their own individual choice, and he wasn’t one to judge. “You know that after what we did to them, their security is going to be on heightened alert.”
She nodded. “I know. They may not even let me in, but it’s worth the risk.”
Juan was about to respond when four people appeared at the dining room’s double-door entrance. Julia Huxley wore her lab coat, as always, while, flanking her, Mark Murphy and Eric Stone had cleaned themselves up. Both sported jackets and ties, although the tails of Mark’s shirt were sticking out. Eric’s naval background had given him a sense of deportment, but he was clearly uncomfortable in his clothes. Or perhaps it was the fourth in their party that made him uneasy.
Julia untied the scarf from around Jannike Dahl’s eyes that had kept her from seeing any part of the ship, other than medical, and now the mess. Juan had relented, giving her a temporary reprieve from the infirmary, but had insisted on the blindfold. Janni wore a borrowed dress from Kevin Nixon’s Magic Shop, and, despite her weakened condition, Juan could understand how young Masters Stone and Murphy could be so vexed. She was a lovely, delicate woman who could leave even the most cynical player tongue-tied. Now that she had lost her pallor from being ill for so long, her normally dusky complexion had returned. Her hair was an obsidian wave that swept off her head and across one bare shoulder.
He instinctively got to his feet as they approached. “Miss Dahl, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Captain Cabrillo,” she replied, still trying to get her bearings in the room.
“I apologize for having you blindfolded, but there are sensitive parts of this ship I couldn’t have you seeing.” He smiled to himself, while Eric and Mark were in a pushing match to be the one to pull out Jannike’s chair.
“You and your crew saved my life, Captain. I would never question your wishes.” Her voice and accent had a charming lilt that captivated all three men. “I am just grateful to be out of bed for a little while.”
“How are you feeling?” Linda asked.
“Much better. Thank you. Dr. Huxley is able to control my asthma, so I have not had any more attacks.”
Eric won the honor, so he got to sit to her left. Mark glared as he circled the table to take a chair next to Linda.
“Unfortunately, there was a mix-up in communications with the cooking staff.” As the words left Cabrillo’s mouth, waiters, led by Maurice, marched out from the kitchen bearing trays. The
Oregon
’s chief steward blamed Juan for the gaffe. “Somehow,” Juan continued, pointedly eyeing Maurice, “they were under the impression you were from Denmark rather than Norway. They had wanted to make some of your native dishes, but we have a traditional Danish meal instead.”