Page 90 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier
He pulled a remote control out of his pocket. The steel plating in the center of the floor parted and a large LCD monitor emerged. On the stand next to it was a small pole and flag like the ones used on practice putting greens. A sensor stood in the middle of the flag.
The Vendor pressed another button and an overhead image of the island was displayed on both sides of the screen so that everyone could see it. Ten red electronic “flags” were stationed around the island including the city ruins, the jungle, and the mines. They were each numbered 1 through 10. Supply caches were labeled A through J.
“Here are the rules,” the Vendor began. “Each flag is worth two million dollars. After all ten flags are collected, the survivors will split the twenty million dollars evenly.”
“And that’s why the Syrian’s death put more money in our pockets,” Plata said.
“Exactly. Of course, if only one of you survives, he collects all twenty million, paid by Bitcoin into the account he provided earlier.”
“Then you’re setting us up to kill each other to maximize our profits,” the Brit said.
The Vendor flashed a toothy smile. “A classic game of prisoner’s dilemma. I shall enjoy observing the outcome.”
“What happens if we killyou?” Osipenko asked.
“Excellent question. The short answer is that you will receive no money. The longer answer is that it won’t be possible. As soon as youleave here, a minefield surrounding this facility will be electronically activated.”
“What if we collect fewer flags?” one of the Polish twins asked.
“All ten flags must be collected or none of the money will be distributed.”
“How are they collected?” the Nigerian asked.
“Check the devices on your wrists,” the Vendor said. He held up his arm. He had one attached to himself as well.
Juan had forgotten about it. He glanced down to see that it had activated. The same map that appeared on the LCD monitor was now on his wrist display.
“These devices serve several functions,” the Vendor began. “First, it shows you where all of the flags are located.”
“Makes it easy enough for that muppet to lay up ambushes for us, doesn’t it?” McGuire said.
The Vendor smiled. “That would be an unfair advantage, wouldn’t it? But rest assured, Rahul does not have access to your map nor does he know where the flags are located.”
He pointed again to his wrist device. “When you capture one of these flags, it will turn from red to green. Let me show you.” He passed his device by the sensor in the flag and one of the red flags on the screen turned green.
“Easy enough, yes?”
“Can Rahul recapture the flags?” Linc asked.
“No, Mr. Davis. Once you capture them, they remain yours. Otherwise the game may never end. Speaking of which…”
The Vendor tapped another button on his remote. The map on the LCD monitor disappeared, replaced with a countdown clock that read48:00:00.
“You will have just forty-eight hours to collect all ten flags.”
“And if we fail to capture all ten?” Dragu? asked.
“Hiding is not an option, gentlemen. If you don’t succeed in claiming all ten flags within forty-eight hours, you will all be killed.”
“What about our gear? Food? Ammo?” one of the Poles asked.
“You will return to the armory and collect your weapons, same asthe ones you used in training. There are also packs, medical kits, tents, survival gear—-anything you can think of. Your digital maps also show you the location of caches of food, water, and ammunition all around the island marked by the letters A through J. Rahul has neither access nor knowledge of any of these, either.
“As I’m sure some of you have surmised, one of the main purposes of the many exercises was to familiarize you with the island.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” the Frenchman asked. “You might change the rules of the game again.”
The Vendor laughed. “Such a stupid question. We hear it all the time in the movies, don’t we? Why do writers have to be so unoriginal?”
