The Pharaoh's Secret by Clive Cussler Read Free Book Online Page A

had escaped the ship by making his way aft to the boat, complete with a radio that the freighter’s crew normally used to inspect the hull.
    He’d been no more than a hundred feet from the ship when the blast occurred. Far too close. He should have been killed by the concussion wave, if not incinerated completely, but the dull thud of the explosion had only startled him. The ship hadn’t been obliterated as he’d expected.
    Something had gone wrong. His immediate instinct was to reboard the ship, and despite the initial explosion, the freighter wasstill running flat out and the little boat he’d commandeered was too slow to catch up.
    There had been little he could do but watch the ship continue on until it ran aground and finally exploded in the manner he’d intended.
    Even then, things didn’t go quite right. Instead of destroying the cryogenically cooled serum, the fire and explosion had atomized it, creating a killing fog as effective as any nerve gas. He watched helpless as the fog spread to the west, engulfing the island. His attempt to hide what he and his superiors were doing had now been broadcast to the entire world.
    As if to prove it, he’d overheard a call for help over the runabout’s radio. It came from a doctor trapped with a number of patients in the island’s main hospital. He heard clearly as she referenced seeing a cloud of gas before quarantining herself and several others.
    He made a fateful decision. On the chance the doctor was still alive, he needed to eliminate her and any evidence she might have gathered.
    He reached into his pocket, withdrew a prepackaged hypodermic needle and pulled the top off with his teeth. After a quick tap with his finger to make sure there were no bubbles in the syringe, he jabbed it into his leg and pressed the plunger down, injecting himself with an antidote. A cold sensation ran through his body with the medicine and for a moment his hands and feet tingled.
    As the feeling subsided, he restarted the Zodiac’s motor and made his way toward the island, angling along the coast until he found a safe spot to go ashore.
    Without delay, he began a brisk hike across an empty beachand then up a staircase cut into the rock and onto a narrow road above it.
    The hospital was two miles away. And not far from that lay the airport. He would find this doctor, kill her and the other survivors and then make his way to the airport, where he could steal a small plane and depart for Tunisia or Libya, or even Egypt, and no one would ever know he’d been there.

6

    â€œNot exactly what I’d call resort casual,” Joe said.
    Bundled up in full diving gear while sitting in a boat on the surface beneath the hot sun was not only uncomfortable and awkward, it was downright claustrophobic. Even the breeze couldn’t reach them through the thickly layered suits.
    â€œBetter than choking on poisonous fumes,” Kurt said.
    Joe nodded and kept the runabout on course toward the shore.
    They were cruising past the breakwater into Lampedusa Harbor. Dozens of small boats dotted the scenic port, bobbing at anchor.
    â€œNot a single hand on deck anywhere,” Joe said.
    Kurt looked beyond the water to the roads and buildings liningthe harbor. “Front Street looks deserted,” he said. “No traffic at all. Not even a pedestrian.”
    Lampedusa had no more than five thousand inhabitants, but, in Kurt’s experience, half of them always seemed to be on the main road at the same time, especially whenever he needed to go somewhere. Scooters and small cars zoomed around in every direction, tiny delivery trucks darted and dodged through the fray, with that uniquely Italian style of daring that suggested half the population could qualify as Formula 1 drivers.
    To see the island so quiet gave him a chill. “Cut to the right,” he said. “Go around that sailboat. We can take a shortcut to the operations