“No. Your men swept the drydock and the ship in her hold as soon as the pair didn’t return from the patrol. No one had come aboard, and there were no signs of struggle. The only vessel nearby was an Iranian-flagged freighter, so unless the mullahs in Tehran got wind of our little operation, I doubt they’re involved.”

Savich cursed under his breath. All the men he’d hired to guard the ships were ex–special forces, the vaunted Spetsnaz. It went against their considerable training to deviate from a patrol route, but he could also understand why they might. Once they’d seized their prize, maintaining a high sense of alertness guarding a quiet ship at sea would be nearly impossible. He could easily imagine them cutting their perimeter patrol by crossing over the hold. It was a careless mistake that would teach the others vigilance in the future.

He considered this an unfortunate accident and put it out of his mind. “How is everything going here?”

The South African had horrible teeth, so his smile looked like a gray grimace. “Couldn’t be better. The reef you found has the highest assay I’ve ever seen. Hell, this whole region is loaded with minerals. Production is above expectations by twelve percent, and we’re still working the alluvial beds downslope. We haven’t even started in on the main strike.”

“When do you anticipate sending out the first shipment?”

“Sooner than I expected, actually. The Souri is scheduled to arrive in ten days. Because of her cargo, she’s carrying a triple complement of guards, so I want to send it out when she heads back south.”

“That should work out. I spoke with Volkmann two days ago. The processing center is ready. The last of the correct dies and stamps came in this week.”

“And the banks will take delivery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Paulus freshened their drinks and held his glass up for a toast. “Here’s to greed and stupidity. Find that combination in the right group of people, and it can make you very rich.”

Anton Savich could drink to that.

Chapter 14

14

IT was nearing midnight by the time Eddie left the Xang home. It had been an exhausting emotional ordeal. They had lost their son once, when he left with the snakehead, and Eddie told them they’d lost him again to the sea. He had introduced himself as a merchant sailor for COSCO, China’s military-run shipping line, and said that his ship had come across a container on its return to Shanghai. The captain had ordered it hauled aboard, thinking there might be something of value inside. He spared them the grim details of what had really been found but said he’d discovered their son’s diary and vowed he would inform the family.