After a moment of thought, Chang turned to a computer and typed in Kurt Austin’s name. The computer took him to the NUMA website and provided him with a short blurb that identified Austin as a project engineer. Austin’s photo also was posted.

Chang stared at the coral-blue eyes, and the smile that seemed to mock him, until he could stand it no longer. He pressed the OFF button and Austin’s face vanished. Chang glared at the blank screen.

The next time I encounter Kurt Austin, he vowed, I will make him vanish forever.

Unknown

NUMA 8 - Medusa

CHAPTER 16

THE BERMUDA COAST GUARD CUTTER HAD RESPONDED quickly to Captain Gannon’s Mayday. After a quick look at the bodies and empty bullet casings littering the aft deck, the guards-men hurriedly called in the Marine Police Service. Within hours, a boat carrying a crime-scene investigation team arrived at the NUMA ship.

The six-man CSI team that stepped on board the research vessel’s deck looked like the car valets at a Nassau resort hotel. With the exception of Detective-Superintendent Colin Randolph, they were dressed identically in navy blue Bermuda shorts, light blue shirts, and kneesocks. As an officer, Randolph was allowed to wear a white shirt.

The men, in their spit-and-polish uniforms, stood in sharp contrast to Gannon, who was still wearing his pajamas when he welcomed Randolph and his team aboard. The captain led the way to the aft deck and introduced Randolph to Austin and Zavala, who had been talking to crew members about the night’s events. The inspector gave the NUMA men each a quick handshake, then turned his wide-eyed gaze to the bodies lying on the cartridge-littered deck.

The detective-superintendent was a round-faced man in his mid-forties who spoke with a lilt that hinted at his origins in Barbados, where he had been born.

He blew out his prominent cheeks like a puffer fish.

“Good Lord!” he said in astonishment. “Looks like a bloody war zone.” Then glancing at the bullet-riddled wreck of the Humongous, he said, “What’s that thing?”

“It was a remote-operated submersible vehicle designed to move along the ocean bottom,” Zavala said.

“Well, from the looks of it, that pile of junk won’t be moving anywhere soon.” He shook his head. “What happened to it?”

“Austin here was using the vehicle for cover, and the gunmen shot it out from under him,” Zavala said.

Randolph glanced at Austin, then gave Zavala a hard stare. Seeing nothing in either man’s face that suggested Zavala was joking, the detective-superintendent ordered his team to cordon off the crime scene with yellow police tape.

He turned to the captain.

“I’d be very pleased if you could tell me what happened on your ship last night.”