“Apparently, it’s the source of the antidote,” Eric said.
“What did they find?” Juan asked.
“We don’t know,” Sylvia said. “Most of the file was corrupted. Just that it involved ancient ruins of some kind and that the archaeologists were all lost in a plane crash returning from the dig site. None of them survived to report their findings.”
“Then how did Jin and Polk know about it?”
“We asked the very same question ourselves,” Murph said.
“Perhaps the archaeologists communicated their findings before they left the dig site,” Sylvia said.
“Or the plane crash was faked and they did make it back,” Eric said. “We’ve seen what this couple does to their own employees.”
“None of this sounds very helpful yet,” Juan said, “which means you’re about to tell me something good.”
Sylvia and Eric looked at Murph, giving him the chance to deliver the news. He smiled, the happiest Juan had seen him since picking him up in Darwin.
“And you thought we didn’t get a present for you,” Murph said. “The file contained the GPS coordinates of the dig site. The ruins they found are along the Ord River on the northwest coast of Australia. We can be there by tomorrow morning.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
HORN ISLAND, QUEENSLAND
The Marauder finally made it to the Torres Strait Islands late on Christmas Day. The archipelago was located at the tip of the Cape York Peninsula, the only place within two hundred miles with an airport large enough for Polk’s jet to land and refuel. He was agitated as the launch made its way to the anchored trimaran.
When he stepped onto the ship, he was met by his wife, who looked equally distressed.
“How could this have happened?” she asked as she hugged him. “Everything was going so smoothly.”
“I don’t know,” Polk replied, looking around at the men idling on deck. “Let’s talk in your cabin.”
They went below decks and locked the door behind them. They didn’t want to give the sense that they were losing control of the situation, even though that’s exactly what had happened.
“Do you think Parsons arranged the attack?” Jin asked him.
“He’s no actor, and I could see he was surprised when I told him he was about to die. No, it was someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. But they had an armed spy ship. It had guns mounted on a crane, and I saw a boat deployed from its hull.”
“A spy ship?”
“That’s what it looked like to me,” Polk said. “The Australian Navy doesn’t have anything like that.”
Jin shook her head. “I don’t know who does. What did it look like?”
“Big cargo ship. Maybe five hundred feet long. Four cranes.”
“Did you catch the name?”
“I checked with the Nhulunbuy harbormaster. It was called the Norego.”
Jin paced the small room. “This doesn’t make any sense. If the military was onto us, they would have mounted a full-scale raid on the factory, not sneak in with a minimal force.”
“It must have been a recon mission.”
That made Jin stop pacing as she looked at Polk in horror. “Did they get away with any intel?”