Patriot by M.A. Rothman (summer reading list TXT) 📗

I promise, our conversation here will never come back around to cause problems for your business.”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Your recent job in the East China sea,” Connor said. “You found something for a client? Salvaged something?”

Tsujihara and Nakamura exchanged a look. The captain turned back to Connor and said, “Yes.”

“What was it?”

“An airplane.”

Blood pounded in Connor’s ears. “Can you be more specific? It’s key that we’re accurate. What kind of plane?”

“An old one from the war. It looked like a fighter plane. It was severely damaged. Wings gone, tail gone. We did not find any human remains of a pilot, if that’s your concern.”

Connor nodded toward the bow. “I noticed you have a bunch of video surveillance, any chance you still have some of that footage?”

“Yes, for insurance purposes. In the nature of our business, the things we find aren’t in the best condition, which has occasionally led to clients wrongly blaming us for doing damage during the recovery process. Because of that, the main office installed these cameras on all of our ships.”

“Can we see that footage?”

“Unfortunately, no. All of the footage is sent to the main computers back at headquarters, where it is kept secured at all times so it cannot be lost or modified. The management in Tokyo trusts no one, not even captains who’ve been with the company since its creation.”

The tone in the captain’s voice suggested he was more than a little bitter about that. Connor made a mental note, saving that bit of information in case he needed it later.

“And there’s no way for you to retrieve the video?”

Tsujihara shook his head. “No, there is not.” He took a sip of his tea. “But I do have a picture.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

The captain pulled a cell phone from his breast pocket. “I like to keep personal records.” He swiped a finger across the screen and tapped through the apps. “It was in particularly good shape, all things considered.”

Tsujihara handed the phone to Connor. The picture on the screen was dark, but the ship’s floodlights illuminated the hanging wreckage well enough. It was the remains of an A4-E Skyhawk, hanging from several straps, suspended above the salvage ship’s deck. The wings had indeed been ripped off, and the tail section was missing. The angle suggested Tsujihara had been standing at the bridge’s window, looking down at the operation from above. The underside of the wrecked plane was hidden in shadow.

And there was something else.

“Total search time for the project was just over two weeks,” Tsujihara said. “A complete waste.”

Connor touched the screen, swiping his fingers to enlarge the image. At the very edge of the picture, he could see the outline of another ship, just barely visible at the outer limits of the light provided by the salvage ship’s lamps. Three letters appear from the darkness.

IFT.

“Why a waste?” Tanaka asked.

“Because the asshole hasn’t paid us,” Nakamura said.

Connor remembered the email they’d downloaded.

“Nakamura,” Tsujihara snapped.

The first officer lowered his head, stepping back. “Apologies.”

“Have nobody disturb us.” Tsujihara motioned his first mate to the cabin door, his stern expression brooking no argument.

Nakamura gave the captain a sharp nod. “Sir.”

Tsujihara took another sip as Nakamura shut the door behind him, leaving the captain and the two agents alone on the bridge.

“My apologies,” the captain said. “Nakamura is capable, but young. He hasn’t yet gained control over his emotions, which is why he is still a first officer. I should have known something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on Mr. Hakimi.”

Connor lifted his chin. Hakimi had used his real name? That suggested the Arab was not concerned about fading into the shadows after he was done with whatever he was planning. Which in turn meant one of two things. Either Mohammad Hakimi wanted the world to know what he’d done… or he wasn’t planning on being around after it happened.

Both possibilities sent large red flags up Connor’s flagpole.

He handed the phone back to the captain. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m not a racist, first of all,” the captain said quickly, as if that had been the first thing to go through both men’s minds. “I don’t have issues with Muslims. In my country we have seen an increase in immigrants from the Middle East, so they’re common enough, and most simply want to go on with their lives. But this man… this man had some real hate behind his eyes. I knew as soon as we pulled that wreck from the water that we had made a mistake. But who am I to say? We have contracts and agreements, and we follow orders from the main office.”

Connor’s phone beeped, and he glanced at it. It was a response from the Utah Data Center. He stepped away from the captain. “One second please.”

He swiped open the message.

TO: Connor Sloane, Analyst - CIA

SUBJ: UDC Query Response – Broken Arrow @ 152 km SE of Kikaijima Island

Per your request, I conducted a search of the Central Records System and found no evidence of any US assets being lost in that vicinity. However, a search of the National Archives yielded some results that you may find interesting.

In December of 1965, a military asset was lost off the USS Ticonderoga at 27°33.2’N, 131°19.3E, which is within a five-mile radius of your stated query. It resulted in the loss of an A4-E Skyhawk attack aircraft carrying a B43 nuclear payload, with an estimated explosive yield of one megaton. I’ve attached details regarding the payload.

Sincerely,

Kaitlyn Shaw

Archives Technician (3A)

With his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Connor walked back over to the captain. “You said you’d made a mistake?”

“Yes,” Tsujihara answered. “It wasn’t the plane he was after.” He swiped to another picture, then turned it so Connor and Tanaka could see. The image was angled up and the belly of the plane was exposed. Still mounted securely in its bomb rack was a long, coral-encrusted cylindrical object. “I think they were after