Susan looked at the retired general and saw that his mouth had dropped open in surprise. “General? What is it?”

“Our frigate was captured.”

“Captured? By the rescued crew?”

“This is extraordinary,” Baris exclaimed as he read. “The rescued crew members are apparently commandos, led by three men in unusual and unidentifiable battle dress uniforms, carrying powerful but unusual weapons.”

“What is the crew complement of the frigate?”

“About two hundred sailors.”

“Sixty men captured two hundred sailors on board one of our own warships?” Susan asked incredulously. Surprise, however, quickly turned to wonderment. “How do we know all this, General? Is someone on the crew sending secret messages? Did someone escape?”

“No, Susan—the leader of the commando unit is allowing the captain, Commander Farouk, to send these messages,” Baris replied with astonishment in his eyes and tone. “The leader, who calls himself Castor, says that no one on the ship will be harmed and the ship will be allowed to return to Mersa Matruh as long as we promise not to attack the ship as they approach and do not attempt to capture them.”

“Who are they? Israelis? Americans?”

“Commander Farouk believes they are Americans, but they are wearing masks and are hiding their identities well. It is apparently impossible to tell the nationality of the leaders—their voices are electronically altered.”

“Electronically altered?” Susan thought hard for a moment. Who were these soldiers? They were powerful enough to commandeer an Egyptian warship, one of the most powerful in northern Africa, but yet they couldn’t hold their base of operations, a small salvage vessel. If they were terrorists or mercenaries sent to attack an Egyptian target, they were sloppy indeed. They surely would not have let the ship’s captain make a call back to base.

The leader decided to trust the Egyptians not to harm them—but just to be sure, they commandeered a guided missile frigate. An interesting blend of strength and restraint, power and caution. Who was this leader? Obviously a man concerned for the safety of his men, but not afraid to use the power at his command. Obviously highly trained and skillful, but not berserkers either.

The leader’s nom de guerre was “Castor”—one of a set of twins from Roman mythology. The twin gods, the Dioscuri, were the “cosmic stabilizers,” representing darkness and light. One was a man of peace, a horse tamer; the other was a boxer, a warrior. They also protected mortals. When Pollux, the warrior, was killed during the Odyssey, Castor the man of peace made a deal with the gods—when his fellow voyagers needed a fighter, he would die so his brother could live. Susan wondered the obvious—who and where was the Pollux?

Or perhaps was there no Pollux now, and Castor the man of peace was the leader. Perhaps that’s why these men didn’t slash their way on board the frigate, kill the crew, and simply steal the ship. Could this Castor be convinced to transform himself into Pollux the warrior to protect mortals ... or perhaps one mortal in particular?