AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And if we find the cargo intact?”
“I’m sure there are elements of the U.S. Army biochemical warfare division that would like to get their hands on it again, despite Typhoon’s grievous reputation,” Overholt said. He paused for a moment, then added, “But if the drug and its formula somehow got destroyed once and for all, they wouldn’t know what they missed, would they?”
Juan smiled. “I suppose not.”
“Then I will sign off here. Godspeed.” The screen winked to black.
“You heard the man, Stoney,” Juan said. “Anchors aweigh, and set course for Negros Island.”
“Aye, Chairman.”
“And Murph?” Juan said.
“Yup?”
“Be ready to counter more of those Kuyog drones in case Locsin left behind those papers on purpose.”
Murph raised an eyebrow. “This smells like a trap to you?”
Juan nodded and patted him on the back. “It positively reeks.”
50
NEGROS ISLAND
Light from the cavern’s roof opening was now streaming through the shutters over the window, and Beth’s stomach was already grumbling for breakfast. She was almost finished appraising the paintings and still couldn’t believe the incredible bounty of stolen artwork that Locsin and his group had amassed. It was like the best Christmas morning ever, despite her predicament. She could open one of the best museums in the world with what was inside this single room.
In addition to every one of the stolen Gardner paintings, she had seen works by Van Gogh, Raphael, Gauguin, and Cézanne that had been missing for years, as well as items by Renoir and Monet from an auction house theft. There were only three more to appraise out of the sixteen. The piece she was inspecting now was a small oil painting from Picasso’s cubist period. It was the least valuable artwork she’d seen because it was so small, but it would still likely fetch a million dollars if it went back to auction.
She had been making notes on a pad with a pencil. She added up her estimates, and the total of all of the paintings ran close to half a billion dollars on the open market. However, because they couldn’t see the light of day without being confiscated, they would be worth only a tenth that in the underground trade. Fifty million dollars was still a huge sum, but she’d bet there would be plenty of Russian oligarchs or Saudi sheiks willing to part with a bit of their oil money to get their hands on these masterpieces.
Dolap was still intently playing with an app on his phone, which she’d seen was a puzzle game when she’d gotten up to use the bathroom. His half-full coffee mug was on the table. She was ready to put her plan into motion, but she cringed thinking about what she had to do.
Beth had positioned the tube that had held the Picasso in exactly the place she wanted.
She nodded at it and said, “Can you hand that to me?” She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she continued to jot on the notepad.
Dolap reluctantly looked away from his game and leaned forward to pick up the tube. He handed it to her, and when she took it from him, she pushed it into the coffee mug, tipping it over. Coffee spilled across the table, splashing onto the Picasso.
Beth screamed at the same time Dolap leapt to his feet. She swung the tube around as if in a panic and slapped the phone out of his hand. He barely noticed because he was so concerned with the painting.
She dropped the tube and jumped out of her chair.
“What have you done?” she shouted.
“It’s not my fault!”
“It was your coffee, wasn’t it?”
He looked at her in terror when he realized what Tagaan would do to him if he found out that Dolap was responsible for ruining one of the valuable paintings.
He pleaded with Beth, “What can we do?”
“I think we can still save it, but I need some cloth towels right now.”
Dolap charged toward the bathroom, but Beth stopped him. “Not the paper towels in there. Bath towels. Clean.”
He would either have to take her with him and draw unwanted attention or leave her alone in the trailer to get them. He was paralyzed with fear and indecision.
