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Juan nodded. “It looks like he will be all right. Our doctor is very experienced, and once he is stabilized, we will get him to a hospital for further treatment. Senators Schmidt and Muñoz have already been notified that the rest of you are uninjured.”
Emily took his hand. “Thank you, Captain Irving. I don’t know how your people were able to save us, but I’m so glad they were there.”
“We were happy to help.” Juan’s phone buzzed. “Excuse me. I’ll leave you in my crewman’s capable hands. We’ll let you know if there is any change in Oliver’s status.”
As he left the mess hall, Juan saw that it was Mark Murphy calling from his satellite phone.
“Murph, are you done with your experiment yet?” Juan said as he answered. “Max needs your help with some of the new gadgets on board.”
“This isn’t Mark,” a woman replied in a shaky voice. “I’m Sylvia Chang, his sister. I didn’t know who else to call.”
Juan stopped. No one should be using Murph’s satellite phone to call Juan except Murph.
“Where is he?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Is he okay?” Juan asked.
“No. That’s why I’m calling you. He can’t talk.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know exactly. He might have been poisoned.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know. They were on a ship.”
This call was getting more bizarre by the second. He worried that someone was spoofing the sat phone’s number.
“How do I know this is really Sylvia?”
Juan was familiar with every crew member’s bio. As he recalled, Sylvia was Murph’s half sister on his mother’s side. Her father had immigrated to America on a student visa before becoming a citizen. Sylvia was two years younger than Murph, and with Ph.D.s in physics and mathematics, she was his intellectual equal.
“I’m the lead investigator on the Rhino project,” Sylvia said. “You’re the Chairman, and you lent my brother to us in the hope that you’d be able to equip your ship with my plasma shield someday. He’s the smartest, most infuriating, and goofiest person I know, and I love him. Mark told me that you saved his life one time in Albania.”
That was actually one of many times, but Murph had kept his work aboard the Oregon confidential. Mostly.
“He also says you have only one leg, like Long John Silver.”
That was also true. Juan lost his right leg below the knee during a mission long ago. He’d gotten so accustomed to wearing a prosthesis that no one knew it was there unless Juan showed it to them.
“Okay, Sylvia,” Juan said. “You’ve got me convinced. Tell me what’s going on.”
For the next ten minutes, Sylvia explained the nightmare she’d been through. Juan interrupted only to ask for clarifications, getting angrier the more he heard, especially when he found out what had been done to Murph. When she was finished, Juan said, “You mentioned that you’re in the Timor Sea. What are your coordinates?”
She told him, and Juan plugged them into the mapping function on his phone.
“We can be there in nine hours to take you and Murph aboard the Oregon,” he said.
“Nine hours?” she replied, incredulous. “How?”
“We’re near Bali. It’s only a few hundred miles from your position.” This would be their opportunity to stress test the Oregon’s newly installed engines. “In the meantime, you need help with so many disabled crew on board. I’ll call the Australian Navy and Coast Guard to rendezvous with you. You’re going to have to trust them. If there’s a U.S. Navy ship in the area, we’ll get it there, too, since the Namaka and her crew were American.”
“Thank you, Chairman,” Sylvia said.
“Call me Juan. My name is Juan Cabrillo.”
