Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12) - Page 57

She craned her head around to look back at them as Sam led her away from the path, making a wide berth around the boar family. “Look at all those cute babies.”

“They’re cute, until four hundred pounds of mama’s pure muscle decides you’re a threat.”

When Sam drew his gun, Remi’s breath caught. “You can’t kill a mama pig.”

“Trust me. This is only a last resort. I’d rather not give up our position.”

The expression in her eyes, when she glanced at the weapon, surprised him. “You don’t really think you’ll have to use the gun, do you? I thought we were just going in to find Dimitris and Zoe and bring them back.”

“Exactly what I was planning on.” When he saw a shadow of indecision cross her face, he added, “I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. There’s still time to go back. Nikos will undoubtedly appreciate your company if you want to return to the boat.”

Since it’d be faster for him and safer for her if she did go back he hoped she’d say yes.

She looked at him for several long seconds, clearly wrestling with the idea, but shook her head. “I want to help find Dimitris and Zoe and bring them home.”

He couldn’t help but feel pride in her spirit and gumption. “Stay close, then.” The trail started winding its way up a steep hill covered with ancient olive trees, their limbs heavy with fruit. The sun angled through the branches swaying with the breeze, casting moving shadows on the ground that made it difficult to distinguish Dimitris’s and Zoe’s footprints from the harvesters and mules that had trampled across them on the hard earth. Sam crouched to take a better look at the footprints, wondering why the young couple would risk coming here on their own. “Tell me about Zoe’s grandfather. Maybe if we can figure out why he was killed, it might tell us what Adrian is after. Did you ever meet Tassos?”

“No. At the post office the morning we were kidnapped, Zoe asked Dimitris if he’d seen her grandfather. So much has happened since then, I’d sort of put that whole conversation behind me.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Zoe was concerned because her grandfather had been acting oddly leading up to that morning. And said he was excited about a job that was supposed to bring in a lot of money.”

“What sort of job?”

“I have no idea. But Zoe thought he’d gone off to look for something called Poseidon’s Trident. I remember Dimitris saying it was an old fisherman’s tale about pirates.”

“Pirates?” he said, losing sight of their tracks again. Hoping that the pair were headed in the same direction as the harvesters, there was little Sam could do at this point but follow the main trail.

“And treasure. But you know that from the funeral and all the stories. Everyone assumes Tassos died looking for treasure.”

Sam glanced over at her, surprised. “Exactly what was said about the treasure part?”

“Honestly, it was all rather harmless. You heard it just like I did. Tassos was always searching for gold. I gathered that everyone but Tassos thought the Poseidon’s Trident thing was just a tall tale.”

“Clearly not that tall of a tale,” Sam said, looking down at the path again. “Not if Adrian went to the trouble of killing him.”

“It doesn’t make sense. The police searched that cave after they recovered his body. Why kill him if there wasn’t any treasure?”

“How do we know there wasn’t any—?”

A mule brayed somewhere to the north of them. Not wanting to get too close to the harvesters, Sam motioned Remi to follow. Keeping low, they made their way to the top of the next hill. Beyond it, a cliff overlooked a deep gorge, which opened into a narrow valley on their right, where the late-afternoon sun shimmered on the rooftops of a few buildings in the distance. On the opposite side of the gorge, which was lower in elevation, olive trees grew as far as the eye could see.

Sam took out his binoculars, and moved to the edge of the cliff. Seeing the layout from up here made him understand why Dimitris chose the south side of the island to make his entry. The bulk of the orchard grew to the north of the gorge, but the processing facility and port for shipping the olives was down through the valley to the east. The terrain was rugged, the paths from the orchard to the valley below far too steep for anything other than pack mules to carry the harvest down.

In the compound, an empty flatbed truck was backed up to the loading dock of one of the buildings, probably what

they used to transport any shipments to the port for distribution. Other than the one truck and a forklift used to move pallets of shipping containers, he didn’t see any other vehicles—or any need for one, since there was only the single gravel road that led from the buildings to the port.

Sam turned back to the orchard across the gorge, where a movement in the trees caught his attention. Dozens of workers, some leading pack mules loaded with sacks of olives, were picking their way down the steep trail into the gorge. Sam searched the faces of the men and women, relieved when he saw Zoe and Dimitris. “I found them.”

“Where?” Remi asked, crouching next to him.

“Across the gorge.” He handed her the binoculars. “See the pack mules heading down that trail? At the end of the line.”

“How’d we miss them? They can’t have been with the workers that just passed us.”

“Definitely not. Zoe and Dimitris had a big head start.” He pointed to their left. “The workers we saw are still on this side of the gorge. You can see them through the trees.”

She looked, about to comment, when her sat phone buzzed. She handed Sam the binoculars, then pulled the device from her pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Selma.”

“Not the best time or place for a conversation. What about not being seen or heard? Hang up.”

Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller
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