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had to be documented with the rig medical staff. Smoking was forbidden
anywhere outside the living quarters and the coffee shop, and the workers
squawked about not being able to carry lighters outside into the rig machinery
and gas-separation towers. He had to crack a few heads together just to
enforce commonsense housekeeping procedures. Even then, he was forced to send
a boatload of twenty-three disgruntled and intractable rig workers back home
with minimal severance pay and no future prospect for a paycheck from Oilstar.
After that, when he looked the remaining crew members in the eyes, he saw a
change in their former laughing, carefree attitude. He had their attention,
for now. As for what would happen after he achieved his goal and left them to
their own devices, that was a different matter. If Frikkie Van Alman didn t
keep watch, they could revert, and Oilstar could go down the tubes.
Frankly, McKendry didn t care. He was neither their father nor their
baby-sitter.
Having lived in Venezuela, he was familiar with the general mañana approach.
It had driven him nuts then, and it did so now, even though he understood its
origins. Venezuela was one of the prime movers in the formation of OPEC in
1960, and though oil prices had dipped in the 1980s he could remember the
resultant economic and political turmoil the nation still lived with too much
spending money and too little personal productivity, not to speak of enduring
and overthrowing a succession of dictators. He figured that Frik s tolerance
for the Venezuelan attitude was possible only because so much of his workforce
was Trinidadian.
Not that they were so eager to lift that bale or tote that barge either.
The sooner he could get on with his real reason for being here, the better, he
thought, as he raised a pair of binoculars and examined the topography around
him: marshy islands, drunkenly balanced trees laden with greenery, the
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labyrinth of caños, the low swamps.
Scattered, disorganized villages dotted the seashore where the Orinoco petered
out into the gulf. Looking at the landscape, he saw endless hiding places for
the ecoterrorists. Grim and angry, standing alone under the whistling girders
of the north derrick, the one Joshua had foolishly climbed, McKendry swore
anew that he would find Selene Trujold and her murderous companions with or
without the law and the Venezuelan military, with or without the help of
Oilstar.
For him, tracking down Green Impact had become personal.
To help speed the recovery from his injuries, McKendry used the exercise
facilities onboard theValhalla platform, a health club that could have
commanded high prices in the States. Most of the time, he felt as if it were
his private domain. The potbellied rig workers never seemed interested in
using their off-duty hours to exercise. They didn t bother to keep themselves
in shape, and instead grew thick in the gut and spent their downtime smoking
cigarettes, playing card games, and watching videotapes which, to his
amusement, included a complete library of his former boss, the Spanish action
star Rodolfo.
McKendry didn t need to build his muscles, just keep them from atrophying; the
recuperation-forced lethargy had already done enough damage. In less than a
month, he was up to fifty push-ups and half an hour on the exercise bike at
its highest tension setting. Satisfied, he put himself on a maintenance
program and gave himself until May 31 Joshua Keene s birthday to complete the
details of his security job and begin the second part of his mission: finding
Selene and recovering the piece of Frik s coveted artifact.
He would keep his word to himself and to Frik, even though, to the Oilstar
exec, losing Keene seemed to be nothing more than the cost of doing
business.
What he needed, McKendry thought, was a plan, preferably one that was
proactive rather than defensive. Instead of waiting for Green Impact to rally
its forces, to pull together the survivors of its terrorist team and find
another way to strike against Oilstar, he would take the initiative.
First, he would find out where Selene and her terrorists had gone to ground.
The Orinoco jungles were wide and complex, but they were not impenetrable. He
had no doubt that he could track her down, given time, and a little help from
the Daredevils Club.
Those who were left.
Those he could trust.
He eliminated Peta, to whom he already owed a debt of gratitude, and Frik,
whom he neither liked nor trusted. That left Ray Arno. Last New Year s Eve,
when Frik had challenged all members of the Daredevils Club to take on this
joint mission, the stuntman and explosives expert had offered his assistance.
Now McKendry needed him to put together a team to find Selene Trujold s
encampment and strike Green Impact.
On the last day of May, McKendry put through his call to Las Vegas.
A day and a half later the thump, thump of chopper blades heralded Ray s
arrival. McKendry looked up at the dark bumblebee shape of the helicopter
flying in from Port of Spain, and climbed to the top of the helipad, using the
ladders and steep metal stairs instead of the elevator.
The helicopter circled around, wavering as it hovered in the air, and settled
askew on the painted circles of the landing pad. As the chopper s rotors
gradually slowed, the passenger door popped open and Ray Arno climbed out, all
energy and muscles. McKendry came forward to meet him, extending a large hand
whose grip was matched by Ray s.
Thank you for coming. Terris had to shout to be heard over the throbbing
vibration of the helicopter
No problem, Terr. The stuntman looked him up and down. You look awful, if
you don t mind my saying so.
I lost a lot of weight and
And your best friend. I was really sorry to hear about Josh.
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McKendry nodded his thanks and led Ray to the lift. They took it down past
convoluted pipes, exhaust torches, and fractionating tubes, where the
production rig could perform preliminary refining of the petroleum they
brought up.
Tell me about this, Ray said.
The crude oil is piped out to tankers like theYucatán and taken to
Venezuela s major refineries on the northern coast at Puerto La Cruz and other
places.
And Frik gets richer every minute.
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