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The inability to combat visions had to be excruciating. A man could take only so much before breaking.
“Shut it down,” Tate said.
The operator pushed the ABORT button, and the disruptor was turned off. Farouk and Li, who were sweating profusely, immediately slumped in the seats, exhausted by the ordeal.
Tate activated the intercom. “I hope we’ve learned a lesson here. Failure is not tolerated on this crew. You were responsible for the Oregon and you allowed her to get away. I assume you won’t botch an operation again in the future.”
Both men vigorously shook their heads.
“Good to hear. You two are valuable to the team, but penalties are an unfortunate necessity when you let the team down.” He looked at the operator. “Go in and untie them.”
The operator left the room and went into the chamber to unstrap the men. Tate cut the camera feed.
He could have killed them both—wanted to, in fact—but they had skills that couldn’t easily be found again. And whittling down the number of his crew was inefficient. They got the message, and so did the rest of the men. The camera feed of the punishment had been broadcast throughout the ship to reinforce for everyone that they should be diligent.
As he left the observation room, he was met by Catherine Ballard, who had a worried look on her face as they walked back to their shared cabin.
“You didn’t like the show?”
Ballard shook her head. “No, I did, it was very effective.”
“Then what is it?”
“We just received a notification from our contact in the Argentinian military. Juan Cabrillo got away.”
Tate abruptly stopped. “What?”
“The convoy they were transporting him in was attacked.”
“And we’re just finding out about this now?”
“It made the news, but was reported as a terrorist event. Three vehicles were destroyed, including the one that initiated the assault. At first, they thought Cabrillo was killed when the attacking vehicle exploded, but they realized later that it was empty. The investigators found no bodies.”
“I told Sánchez to be set for something like that,” Tate fumed as he continued walking. “I could kill him.”
“Too late,” Ballard said. “He was found in the wreckage of his SUV impaled by a windshield wiper.”
“He was punished for his failure. If Juan wasn’t in the vehicle, how did he get away?”
“Some of the witnesses reported a helicopter taking off. They assumed it was a medical rescue flight.”
Tate burst into the cabin and sank into the sofa to think. Ballard followed him in and closed the door behind her.
“What do we do now?” she asked. “We still haven’t had any success tracking down the Oregon’s current position.”
“If we had known they were rescuing Juan, we could have intercepted them two days ago,” Tate said, pounding his fist into a cushion. “Maybe I should have left Farouk and Li in that chamber until their brains turned to jelly.”
Ballard looked at him like she wanted to say something but hesitated.
“What?” Tate demanded.
“You mentioned Algodoal to Cabrillo. He’ll know the general area to search for the Kansas City.”
Tate sat up when he realized what that meant. “Do you think he’s going after the sub?”
“Possibly. If he finds Jiménez still alive . . .” she said, her voice trailing off as she contemplated the implications.
“They can’t be alive down there in that tin can.”
