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“How many guards are here besides you?” Eddie asked.
“Twenty-two,” the man said. “Some are already on the Marauder.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know where we’re going, but in fifteen minutes, we’re leaving the island.”
FIFTY-NINE
The repairs to the Marauder took less time than Jin had expected, and she was preparing to set sail, never to return to Marwood. After completing their task in Sydney, they would go to Hainan Island in the South China Sea. The Marauder and her plasma weapon would be turned over to the Chinese government in return for protection from any possible extradition. Jin and Polk already had their eye on a twenty-million-dollar seaside mansion on the outskirts of Haikou.
Her husband had flown out after lunch. He texted her that he’d landed in Sydney and was on his way to the Centaurus, which was anchored near Shark Island in the harbor.
By traveling at top speed, she expected to join him by nine the next evening, in plenty of time to watch the world-famous fireworks show launched from the Sydney Harbour Bridge. At the same time, two hundred and ninety-six rockets loaded with Enervum gas would be fired from the Centaurus. Most people would be focused on the bridge, but anyone seeing the launch from the cargo ship would simply think it was part of the show.
Once the operation was complete, she would use the Marauder to sink the Centaurus and put to sea. By the time any authorities came from other parts of the country, she and Polk would be long gone. She would upload her video recording of the launch to the internet, leaving no doubt as to what had happened. News org
anizations around the world would carry the story, unlocking the cryptocurrency account.
Jin could practically taste how close she was to her new life. She didn’t want to wait any longer than she had to for the end of this mission.
“What’s the status of the plasma cannon?” she asked her XO.
“All tests are complete,” he said. “The weapon is fully operational.”
“What about our fuel and supplies?”
“Topping off the fuel now. The last of the supplies are being loaded.”
“Then make ready to cast off as soon as we have everyone aboard,” Jin said. “Have two men go get the American.”
* * *
—
MacD’s cell was bare, but at least its underground location was keeping him cool in the tropical heat. There was a single bulb in the ceiling lighting the concrete ceiling, walls, and floor.
A heavy blast door was locked from the outside. He’d tried opening it numerous times, but nothing short of a blowtorch would get it open from his side.
The stitches under the bandage itched. They were made with thick black thread by someone who seemed to know what he was doing. It wasn’t a bad job, but it would leave a nice jagged scar to match his others.
Propped against the wall, he tried not to move his arm, which was now aching. A sling would have been nice to keep it immobile, but he would have settled for an aspirin.
Besides some water and a bowl of noodles, he hadn’t eaten anything since he left Christmas Island, and his stomach was grumbling. Still, it wasn’t his worst time in captivity. Afghanistan beat this experience by a long shot.
In the stairwell outside, he heard the echo of two Chinese men speaking as they descended the stairs. Keys jangled. They were coming to get him for something. Whether it was for more negotiations, a trip, or an execution, he had no idea.
MacD stood, grimacing from the jostling of his shoulder. The key was inserted into the door.
Then he heard two thumps. It sounded like the men had fallen over.
Moments later, the key turned. The door opened to the vision of Raven standing over two dead guards, one with a crossbow bolt in his neck, the other with a knife in his back. MacD’s crossbow was cradled in her arms.
“Aw, you brought me a present,” he said with a grin. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t,” Raven said, retrieving the knife and cleaning it off. “Now I know why you like it so much. I might decide to keep it.”
“Over my dead body. Gimme.”
