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“They know that you’re alive. They know that Catherine Ballard abducted Langston Overholt and joined you to frame me and my crew for crimes we didn’t commit. They know that you’ve built an exact replica of the Oregon.”
Tate grinned at Juan and gave him his favorite finger wag. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. That might have been what you claimed, but it sounds so outrageous. Why would they ever believe you?”
“Because I’ve got you on recording,” Cabrillo said evenly.
“You’ve got you on a recording, you mean.”
Cabrillo turned to someone and said, “Play it back.”
Suddenly, Tate was watching himself at their last conversation, and his stomach dropped. He was looking at his own face. In the background was Ballard, with that sickly look she got as they were battered by the waves. There was no way Cabrillo could have re-created that expression without having seen her at the time.
Tate slowly rose out of his seat. He walked over to Farouk and slapped him hard.
“You let this happen!” he screamed, before turning back to the screen.
“Now who’s going to blow a blood vessel?” Cabrillo asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. He was enjoying this reveal.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tate said, waving his hands.
“I think it does. Vice President Sandecker and CIA Director Kubo were watching in real time. They saw everything.”
“They’re going to believe you? Maybe I’ll just say we’re working together.”
“I don’t think that’ll work, either,” Cabrillo said. He looked to his side and nodded.
To Tate’s shock, into the frame stepped a very much alive Langston Overholt.
“Hello, Mr. Tate. I’m happy to still be on two feet, but I’m sorry to see you again.”
Tate sneered at the two of them. “You think you’re so smart.”
“Not that smart,” Cabrillo said, “but smarter than you. If you were really smart, you’d leave Chile right now and find some hole in the world to climb into. Because the U.S. government is going to come looking for you.”
Tate could feel himself losing control. He took a seat in his command chair and held the armrests in a vise grip.
“You’re the dumb one, Juan, if you think I’m going to leave now. Not when I’ve got you on the ropes. I’m coming to find you, and there’s no place for you to hide.”
He slashed across his throat, and the feed cut out.
Everyone in the op center was staring at him, but no one dared speak.
“Contact the Wuzong,” Tate barked at Ballard. “Tell Admiral Yu that we’re going to war.”
58
With Vargas’s expert help, Jefferson steered the damaged Deepwater through a passage so shallow and narrow that the much larger Portland could never follow. However, the winding waterway ended a mile later in a circular cove. They were safe for now, but trapped. At least they hadn’t had any casualties more serious than wounds requiring a few stitches.
“How long will it take to effect engine repairs?” Jefferson asked her XO.
“A day at best,” he replied. “We barely made it here before we had to shut the engines down to keep them from seizing up completely. Even if we get them running again, we’ll only be able to run at ten knots max.”
“I don’t care. I want us moving as soon as possible. Make it so.”
“Aye, Captain.” The XO left for the engine room.
“We’ll never outrun the Portland,” Vargas said.
“We wouldn’t have anyway,” Jefferson said. “Dirk Pitt himself told me that she could cruise faster than forty knots. I thought he was pulling my leg until I saw that old freighter firing missiles.”
