The Atlantis Plague (The Origin Mystery, #2)

Dorian considered his options. If those damn British hadn’t mined the straits… his fleet could reach them. The Berber control of Ceuta and northern Morocco also further limited his options.

“We’ve sent ships from Fuengirola after them,” the captain said.

“Estimated intercept time?” Dorian asked.

“Unknown.”

“What do you mean, unknown?”

“They’re moving at almost thirty knots. We don’t have a ship fast enough to catch them.”

Dorian shook his head.

“But if they slow down or stop, we’ll be on them. Or— if they enter port somewhere, we can corner them.”

“Notify our source. And get me a map of Ceuta’s firing radius. I need to know how to fly around their guns.”





CHAPTER 62


Somewhere off the coast of Ceuta

Mediterranean Sea


David waited at the door to his and Kate’s stateroom, listening, hoping for any sound, any clues as to what was happening on the ship. The engines had completely stopped and the one-hundred-thirty-foot yacht was cruising almost silently now. David glanced out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that led out to their balcony.

He backed away from the door. If whoever had killed Martin was taking the boat, they would be set up outside the master stateroom, waiting for him.

He exited onto the balcony. There were no other boats in sight. Even the lights from Ceuta had faded, leaving only the moon to light the boat.

David inched forward on the balcony and peered into the saloon—the living space beyond the bedroom. Empty.

Tiny recessed lights twinkled, illuminating the lavish living and dining accommodations.

The main deck was devoted entirely to the master stateroom and living and dining spaces. The lower deck below them housed the crew quarters and guest rooms. David didn’t hear any movement there either.

Assuming he lived through the next few minutes, he would have to move Kate belowdecks, to a room with no balcony and fewer windows. It would be easier to defend her there. However, he could also fold the balcony off the master into the ship, closing off the side entrance to the master stateroom. Which would add better protection? He’d have to sort it out later.

At that moment, he heard a footstep on the deck above: the upper deck. It housed the ship’s cockpit, a spacious guest stateroom, as well as indoor and outdoor lounging space.

David exited the stateroom quickly and rushed up the stairs, his gun leading the way.

The upper saloon was empty.

He heard voices in the cockpit. David stepped quietly toward it.

Dr. Janus stood there, the same impassive look on his face, no hint of concern at the sight of David and his gun. David panned around the room. Kamau and Shaw stood on the port side, arguing. They turned toward him and stared.

“David—” Kamau began.

David’s mind raced. Chang. “Where’s Chang?”

“We haven’t seen him—”

David darted out of the cockpit, back through the upper saloon. He was about to round the stairs when the door to the saloon’s bathroom opened. Chang glided out, seemingly talking to himself.

David wheeled around, still holding his sidearm straight out, and closed the distance between them.

Chang almost collapsed back into the bathroom. He held his hands up, shaking. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know whether to flush… then I felt the boat stop… I…”

Kamau, Shaw, and Janus walked into the saloon. The African spoke first. “We’re out of gas.”

David let his gun fall to his side, but he still gripped it tightly. “That’s impossible. We had over half a tank when we left the harbor in Ceuta.”

“True,” Kamau said. “But there’s a hole in the fuel line. We’ve been leaking.”

David stared at the four men. One of them had killed Martin, and now he had cut the fuel line. He wanted the boat stranded. For what? An extraction?

Shaw spoke up. “There could be other damage. There are bullet holes in the engine room.”

Kamau nodded slightly, confirming that the damage was there.

Bullet holes, David thought. Could the boat have taken fire from soldiers on the plague barge or during the firefight at Ceuta? It was possible…

A plan formed in David’s mind. He would need to fix the fuel leak before they could go on, but the size of the leak—whether it had been cut or simply severed by a bullet—might reveal the killer. “Where were each of you just now?”

“I was in the galley, preparing a meal,” Janus said.

“I was in the cockpit,” Kamau said. “I hadn’t thought to check the fuel, but when I saw our status, I killed the engines.”

“I was…” Chang began. “…using the restroom.”

Shaw cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I was actually about to knock on your door and demand you release Dr. Warner to me. A demand I now press, especially in light of our circumstances—”

David had hoped one of the scientists had seen Kamau, had hoped he had an alibi. David desperately wanted to rule him out. His primary suspects were Shaw and Chang—in that order.

“I want your guns.”

“I… don’t have a gun—”