ZANDERTHAL'S REMOTE COMPOUND

Jake didn't feel comfortable putting Sarah's life in anyone's hands but his own, even if they were former SEALs. He rubbed his eyes and wiped jittery hands over his face to breathe life back into his weary body. It didn't work, but the churning in his stomach intensified. He wished Tony wasn't lying prostrate beside him. Not that he didn't need help, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He had to contemplate this with as little conversation as possible. Regardless, fear of losing Sarah forever kept him going, plowing ahead every second he was without her. Even though it was nearly five in the morning, sleep and solitude would have to come later.

After dropping Cat off at the Darling Harbour Quay where the captain docked the Atlantis, Jake and Tony changed into blue jeans and thin athletic T-shirts and returned to the mountain top lookout for a thorough inspection of Zanderthal's secret hideaway. By taking advantage of the BMW's V8 engine, Jake shaved about ten minutes off the trip to the Blue Mountains. Tony grew quiet when he saw the sprawling fenced in complex with an arena at its core. He commented it looked like a giant beehive surrounded by satellite nests.

At the moment, the hive was inactive except for a few security guards. Jake monitored their movements below with the naked eye. Two guards manned the front gate. One patrolled the east fence. They had another stationed on the west boundary, and who knew how many at the rear of the facility?

Tony dropped the binoculars from his eyes. "The sun will be up soon. All's quiet on the range."

"Would you stop it with the metaphors," Jake said.

"It's just a figure of speech, bro."

"It's time to be sober-minded, not cute."

"I wasn't being—"

"Just cut it out." Jake took the binoculars from Tony and raised them for a look, adjusting the focus on the main gate, in particular the guard shack. A lamp on a desk lit the interior of the tiny structure. One man had his attention on a computer screen while the other leaned against the small building's exterior, possibly complacent with the non-eventful evening.

Headlights broke the darkness, and the rumble of a diesel engine rolled across the valley floor.

"A truck's approaching the entrance. Check that." Jake hesitated. "We've got three eighteen wheelers in route, not the tanker variety either. Each truck has an enclosed trailer."

The guards allowed all three tractor trailers passage. The first truck backed up in front of the central facility to a garage door.

After several minutes, the second semi backed into place while the first parked off to the side. Whatever their activity, the drivers planned to leave at the same time. That meant they were on-loading instead of having their contents removed.

Twenty minutes passed, then the third rig maneuvered its trailer into position. As it kissed the dock, headlights illuminated the main gate. Jake brought the binoculars to bear on the vehicle as it waited to enter. A Mercedes-Benz limousine.

"Bingo," he said.

Tony took the binoculars for a brief look and then passed them back to Jake.

"I think―"

Jake was in mid-sentence when the driver's side door of the limo opened and out stepped Takeshi Ishikawa's bear-like figure. The man walked up to a guard and took a clipboard from him. It appeared he was scouring over a shipping manifest when the last truck pulled away from the dock and got in line behind the other diesels. Within a few minutes, a trio of black SUVs squeezed between each truck, including one at the head of the convoy. At a brisk pace, Ishikawa returned to the limo and climbed in. He eased the car to the back of the line and waited for the procession to move.

"You think what?" Tony snatched the binoculars away.

Jake gritted his teeth, snorted, wanted to slap Tony on the back of the head, but thought better of it.

"Ishikawa's behind the wheel of the Benz, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And you think Sarah's in the limo, too?"

"If she's in the car, Ishikawa didn't remove her. I'd say she's still in the backseat or he's dropped her off somewhere for safekeeping. It's only a hunch. But he left the hotel almost two hours ago." Jake gestured for the binoculars and got them. He observed as the convoy exited the compound in a single file line. "I'd also say she's being held where they're going. It wouldn't surprise me if Roland Zanderthal turns up there, too."

"A distinct possibility."

"Ishikawa said Zanderthal had plans for her."

Simmering on the inside, Jake rose and hurried back to the BMW. Tony matched him stride for stride. Both men dropped into their respective seats and slammed the doors shut.

Jake drove to the bottom of the hill and positioned the car in the shadow of a tree on the edge of the gravel road. There, he waited for the vehicles to negotiate the long drive. He let them pass by before he pulled out. He stayed as far back as he could from the limousine, allowing the taillights to sink beneath a distant hill and disappear before he gunned the sedan and caught sight of the limo again. Ishikawa couldn't spot them tailing him. If he did, it would ruin the element of surprise, and that was all they had on their side at the moment.

Almost an hour later, back in the southern fringe of Sydney, Jake stopped the car when the convoy turned left on a road up ahead. After watching the procession enter the fenced in property, he eased by the lot and parked on the shoulder. Jake and Tony crept up to the chain-linked barrier. Across a vast shipyard sat stacks of weathered boats and rusted spare parts, the piles heaped thirty feet high, blocking the view of the waterfront dock which they knew was on the other side of the rubble.

Jake and Tony snuck around to the other side of the yard and walked down the fence line to see where the trucks were headed. The outskirts of the property lacked security lighting, which helped conceal them in the shadows. They moved into position as the first semi backed up to the dock. A gap in the line of junkyard boats offered the view, although the trailer obscured sight of the cargo as a group of men began unloading. Before them loomed a mammoth ship, its black hull crowned with a red band from stem to stern. Within that border near the bow were white letters, spelling out the ship's name.

HERCULES AUSTRALIS.

"That's an icebreaker," Tony said.

"Judging by the shape of the bow, I'd have to agree. It appears reinforced and rock solid. You can tell by the white scars that run up the prow. It's probably seen action in Antarctica. Holy―"

"I see it too. Blue and white paint streaked down the port side."

"Mystery solved as far as the Atlantis is concerned. This has to be the ship that sideswiped them at sea."

Tony settled back from the fence and squatted like a baseball catcher. "There's got to be more to the men in the sleep tank than development for cage fighting."

Jake read the tension in his friend's eyes. "You said the files you stole linked increased muscle mass with Zanderthal's cure for Parkinson's disease."

"Using the growth hormone extracted from the barracudas."

Jake gnawed on his lip.

"There's two questions we need to answer. One, when is this ship setting sail? And two, where is this vessel scheduled to make its next delivery?"

Jake bit down too hard, tasted blood and something metallic in his saliva. He winced from the jab of pain. "It's not about the ship, Tony, it's about Sarah. Get your head screwed on straight."

"I am thinking about her. I'm thinking about saving her."

Jake wagged his head and looked back at the ship. Then he removed his phone from his jeans, opened the previous call list, and selected Cat's number.