Pirate by Clive Cussler

left.
    Charles waited until the door had closed behind him before addressing Fisk. “Is it done?”
    â€œWe have the book and the key. On the way here as we speak.”
    He leaned back in his chair, relieved, and very much pleased with the outcome. “And the Fargos? They believed the story?”
    â€œNot exactly. They followed my men to the warehouse.”
    â€œTell me they were dealt with.”
    â€œThey escaped. But then, so did two of my men, so all was not lost.”
    Charles gripped the arms of his chair, wanting to lash out, break something. These Fargos had already cost him considerable time and money. “I want these treasure-hunting socialites dealt with.”
    â€œAt the moment, they’re no more trouble than a thorn in our side.”
    â€œThorns have a way of becoming infected. If they so much as appear on the fringes of any of my operations, kill them.”
    â€œI have a plan in the works.”
    â€œWhat sort of plan?”
    â€œInvolving the two women. Pickering’s niece and daughter. Let’s just say they’ve been very useful up to this point. If things proceed as expected, we should hear good news within the next day or so.”

Twelve

    S am and Remi sat across from each other in the cabin of their jet, both enjoying the relative solitude of each other’s company. Remi was refreshing her memory about the history of Oak Island and the hunt for treasure in the so-called Money Pit while he read the report on Charles Avery that Selma had put together and forwarded.
    After a while, Sam sat back, then looked up at Remi. “I thought this guy’s name seemed familiar. I remembered reading about him in
Forbes
,” he said. “Made his millions raiding corporations. When he’s not buying cash-strapped companies, he fancies himself an expert in maritime salvaging.”
    â€œHow is it we’ve never heard of him beyond that?”
    â€œWe don’t run in the same circles. And judging from the number of people he’s put out of business, I wouldn’t want to.”
    Remi smiled as Bree wandered in, looking somewhat more refreshed from having had a nap. “Feeling better?” Remi asked her.
    â€œMuch.”
    Sam nodded at a light dinner laid out on the sideboard. “Help yourself. Selma’s made arrangements for you to fly home tomorrow afternoon.”
    â€œThank you.” She looked over the paperwork Remi had spread all over the table. “Oak Island? You really think that’s what Larayne was talking about?”
    â€œIt’s a logical assumption based on the information given. And the map found in the endpaper certainly resembles the island. Do you know anything about it?”
    â€œThe basics. The constant hunt for a seemingly nonexistent treasure after a couple of teenagers dug up some stones and oak logs in the late seventeen hundreds.”
    â€œSeventeen ninety-five,” Remi said. “In fact, starting right around the time
Pyrates and Privateers
hit the market.”
    â€œCoincidence?” Bree asked.
    Sam glanced up from what he was reading to answer. “My opinion? Yes. Personally, I’ve never believed there was any treasure on Oak Island. And the various reports from scientists and engineers who’ve studied it over the years seem to confirm that.”
    Bree picked up one of the printouts on the island. “Then why would Avery’s men be headed there? Assuming Charles Avery
is
behind this.”
    â€œJudging from this,” Sam replied, holding up the papers Selma had sent, “I think we can safely assume he is behind it. As for why they’d go there in search of treasure? Not everyone believes the evidence.”
    Remi searched through the many photos on her tablet downloaded from the
Pyrates
book. When she found the illustration ofthe map hidden behind the endpaper, she held up the screen for Bree to see, then showed her the actual map of Oak Island.