The Vault of Poseidon by Rob Jones

Author:Rob Jones [Jones, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-04T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Ionian Sea

Hugo Zaugg’s favorite toy was the Thalassa, his six hundred-foot motor yacht. Designed by the best naval architects in the world and built in Germany under his personal supervision, it was the largest of its kind in the world.

Zaugg often spent his summers on board, enjoying its thirty guest cabins or flying out to private island parties from its helipad. But today was different. Today was business, not pleasure. Today was about fulfilling his fate, and what better place to do it than on board a yacht named after the primordial sea goddess, more ancient than even Poseidon.

He walked along the deck of the Thalassa and into the safety and peace of his private quarters. The cabin was beyond luxurious, taking opulence to an entirely new level – cherry wood floorboards, plasma screen, and walnut-veneer drinks cabinet. As much as he was capable of feeling love, he loved being here.

He slid the door shut and walked casually to his desk, a beautiful piece of Brazilian mahogany empty of clutter except a small platinum statue of Amphitrite and Poseidon in a lovers’ embrace, and the more utilitarian presence of a black satellite phone.

He surveyed the coast of an anonymous island outside the window of the yacht, contemplating the sequence of the next few hours, and how it must play out for him to achieve his destiny. Soon the entire world would learn who Hugo Zaugg really was.

It is almost time, he thought.

He took a deep breath. His old, watery eyes wandered from the divine lovers to the phone and back again.

A gentle tap on the door.

“Come.”

Heinrich Baumann padded into the room, an Uzi casually hanging from a belt slung around his waist. “They’re in the hold.”

Zaugg turned away from Baumann and peered out the window as some of his men were hauling an overweight, elderly man through the forehatch. For good measure one of the men kicked him in the ribs and he doubled over in pain, coughing and wheezing.

“Did he admit to it?” Zaugg asked.

“After some persuasion, naturally.”

Zaugg raised his eyebrows in appreciation of Baumann’s skills. He never thought the old man would confess. Now, lying in a heap on the deck, Grasso would learn his fate. Zaugg enjoyed meting out his own personal justice. It was so much more efficient than the courts, he considered. This he was going to enjoy.

“Bring Donovan and the others to the front deck. It would be a shame if they missed the show.”

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