Page 115 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier
“A gimp? Out here? I don’t believe it.” Plata swore again.
“He is a man of extraordinary talents. That’s why I need your help.”
“What is it that you want?”
“I need you to capture him and use your particular skills to extract information from him—his true identity, who sent him, what he knows about my operations.”
“Why would I do that?”
“In exchange for this service, I will immediately transfer the twenty million dollars from the test to each of your accounts.”
“You have to, anyway. We’ve won. Unless, of course, you are a dishonorable man.”
“You haven’t won yet. In fact, there’s little chance you’ll overcome the minefield at flag number nine. There are no drone assets in the armory nor minefield-clearing devices, since none of you requested either. You can’t possibly win the money, and according to the terms of our new contract, you will all be killed at the forty-eight-hour mark.”
“How can I trust you?”
“I know exactly where you’re standing there in the mine.”
Instinctively, Plata glanced down at his feet, then stepped back a little.
“Rahul had laid ground sensors leading up to flag number one. They are still active. I could have sent my own squadron of drones to kill you where you stand or set up an ambush at the mouth of the mine. Instead, I called you.”
“You once told me that money doesn’t matter to you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then I want double the money for my men. Forty million dollars.”
“Done. Is it a deal?”
“What about Davis?”
“What about him?”
“He and Mendoza have been thick as thieves since they got here.”
“That doesn’t make him a spy.”
“But he is an American.”
“Indeed, he is. And that alone is a good enough reason to kill him. You have my permission to do so.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“Then you have my blessing. I will even put my bodyguards under your command for extra firepower. Is it a deal?”
Plata hesitated. The slippery snake had already pulled the rug out from under him once. He couldn’t possibly trust him. But then again, what choice did he have? They had no means to get off the island, no means to communicate with the outside world, and a certain death sentence waiting for them tomorrow if he didn’t comply.
“What about our transportation out of here?”
“It will be provided free of charge, any destination you choose, just as we agreed to before.”
“One other thing.”
“Name it.”
“When I finish with Mendoza, I want to be the one who enjoys the pleasure of killing him.”
