Black Wind (36 page)

43

W
EBSTER,
P
ETERSON, AND
B
URROUGHS
returned to the NUMA headquarters building at exactly six o'clock and found a subdued scene when they arrived at Gunn's office. The results of the SEAL team's reconnaissance mission had just been received, and Gunn, Dirk, and Summer sat morosely discussing the report.

“Disappointing news, I'm afraid,” Gunn said. “The cable ship wasn't there.”

“How could it come and go without being seen?” Webster wondered. “We've got Interpol and customs authorities on the lookout for that vessel all throughout Asia Pacific.”

“Perhaps a few of them are on Kang's payroll,” Summer said.

Webster brushed aside the suggestion. “We're certain the reconnaissance team didn't misidentify anything?”

“There apparently was nothing in the enclosed dock to see. A video feed of the surveillance is being sent by satellite right now. We can take a look for ourselves on the admiral's viewing monitor,” Gunn replied. For the second time that day, he led a procession to the admiral's former office. As he approached the corner suite, he was surprised to hear a familiar laugh emanating from the office as a hazy cloud of smoke drifted out the open door.

Entering the threshold, Gunn was shocked to find Al Giordino sitting on the couch. With a wild wave of his dark curly hair askew, the newly appointed NUMA director of underwater technology sat reclining with his legs up on the coffee table, a stubby cigar dangling from his lips. He was dressed in a worn NUMA jumpsuit and looked like he just stepped off a boat.

“Rudi, my boy, here flogging the crew a little late tonight, aren't we?” Giordino asked before blowing a puff of smoke from the cigar skyward.

“Somebody's got to mind the store while you're out basking on a warm tropical beach.”

Dirk and Summer grinned as they entered the room and spotted Giordino, who was like a favorite uncle to them. They didn't immediately see their father, who stood at the opposite end of the office gazing at the lights across the Potomac. His six-foot-three frame stood tall against the window, having lost little of its younger muscular leanness. A touch of gray at the temples and a few slight wrinkles around the eyes hinted at his age. The weathered, tan face of Dirk Pitt, the legendary special projects director and now head of NUMA, broke into a broad grin at the sight of his children.

“Dirk, Summer,” he said, his sparkling green eyes glowing with warmth as he threw his arms around his two kids.

“Dad, we thought you and Al were still in the Philippines,” Summer said after giving her father a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Are you kidding?” Giordino piped in. “The old man practically swam across the Pacific to get back here when he heard you were missing.”

The elder Pitt smiled. “I was just jealous of you two taking a tour of Northeast Asia without me,” he grinned.

“We made some notes of places to avoid,” Dirk laughed in reply.

Pitt visibly warmed in the presence of his two kids. The veteran marine engineer brimmed with a radiant serenity at the world that had recently changed around him. His personal life had been completely jarred by the sudden appearance of his two grown children just a few years earlier whom he never knew existed. But they quickly became a close part of his life, joining him in his underwater work, as well as sharing personal time with him and his new wife. The sudden dose of responsibility had nudged him to take stock of his life and he had finally married his longtime love, Colorado congresswoman Loren Smith. But the changes continued, as even his professional life saw an upheaval. With Admiral Sandecker unexpectedly taking the vice presidency, Pitt was suddenly thrust into the top spot at NUMA. While special projects director, he experienced several lifetimes' worth of adventure and challenges that took him to the four corners of the globe. The hazards had taken a toll on him, both physically and mentally, and now he was glad to ease back on the more vigorous demands of the job. As NUMA's chief director, his administrative and political duties often exceeded his interests, but he still ensured that he and Al spent plenty of time in the field, testing new equipment, exploring prospective marine sanctuaries, or just pushing the limits of the deep. Deep inside, the flame still burned brightly when it came to exploring the unknown or solving an ancient mystery and his old-fashioned sense of propriety never waned. The kidnapping of his children and the sinking of the
Sea Rover
triggered an anger inside that brought back the old resolve he'd felt time and again to make right in the world.

“Dad, what's the situation with the toxic Japanese cargo ship in the Philippines?” Dirk asked. “I understand that it was leaky chemical munitions causing the reef kill.”

“That's right, a mixture of mustard and lewisite in this case. More biochemical hazards left over from World War Two. We actually have the leak contained. Nobody was volunteering to conduct a costly excavation and removal of the munitions, so we did the next best thing. Bury them.”

“Lucky for us that underwater sandbank was right there,” Giordino explained. “We just fired up a water pump and filled the cargo hold with sand, then sealed it back up. As long as nobody goes digging around down there, there should be no more toxic leakage and the damaged reef should rejuvenate itself in a few years.”

An administrative aid poked her head through the door and spoke to Gunn. “Sir, the video feed from the Pentagon is available for viewing now,” she said, then disappeared out the door like a rabbit down a hole.

Gunn seized the moment to introduce the Homeland Security and FBI men to Pitt and Giordino, then herded everyone toward a large, flat-panel monitor that was hidden behind a sliding panel. Typing in a few quick commands on a keyboard, the screen suddenly illuminated with the image of a large, enclosed dockyard. The camera's eye panned around the facility, showing a series of empty docks. After less than a minute's running time, the video ended and the screen went blank.

“That's Kang's facility, no doubt about it. But there's no sign of the
Baekje
,” Dirk said.

“The Navy report stated that a small tug and a speedboat were the only vessels observed on Kang's property,” Gunn said. “Like Elvis, the
Baekje
has apparently left the building.”

Webster cleared his throat. “I have confirmed with Interpol and the Korean National Police that Inchon port traffic has been monitored around the clock since the crew of the
Sea Rover
were rescued and the alert bulletin issued. No vessel matching the
Baekje
's description has been seen entering or departing the port since.”

“Someone's on the take,” Giordino sneered.

Webster returned the comment with an indignant look. “A remote possibility but not likely. Despite its heavy traffic, Inchon is not a particularly large port. Somebody should have reported seeing her depart.”

“She may have made a stealthy getaway right after Dirk and Summer left the ship,” Gunn conjectured, “which was before the Interpol alert was issued.”

“Or there's another possibility,” Pitt suggested. “The ship may have been camouflaged or reconfigured to resemble another vessel. She may have sailed out of port in broad daylight looking like an ordinary tramp freighter.”

“Or the
Love Boat
,” Giordino added.

“Whatever her disposition, the fact remains that without the ship we have insufficient evidence to make a move against Kang with the Korean authorities,” Webster said.

“What about Dirk and Summer?” Pitt replied with rising anger. “Do you think they showed up on Korean soil aboard the
Queen Mary
?”

“The proof against Kang has to be ironclad,” Webster replied with a stressed look. “There's a serious political problem with South Korea right now. Our people in the State Department have their knees shaking, and even the Pentagon is nervous as hell. The prospect of losing our military presence in Korea is very real and nobody wants to jeopardize a precarious situation at this critical juncture in time.”

“So you're afraid to ask South Korea to investigate Kang?” Pitt asked.

“This comes from the top. We're to stay away from Korea until after the National Assembly vote on the expulsion of our military forces.”

“What does the admiral have to say about this?” Pitt asked of Gunn.

Gunn shook his head slowly. “Admiral, er, Vice President Sandecker has informed me that the president is deferring to the State Department for reaction to the sinking of the
Sea Rover
. Dirk and Summer's indictment of Kang has unfortunately resulted in the edict that Jim just mentioned. Everyone is to lay low until after the National Assembly vote. Apparently, intelligence reports have revealed secret business dealings between Kang and the president of South Korea that go well beyond their known public friendship. The president is afraid of losing his support against the National Assembly measure if a potentially embarrassing investigation is initiated.”

“Doesn't he understand the magnitude of the risk involved with the weapons Kang possesses?” Summer asked incredulously.

Gunn nodded. “The president has iterated that once the resolution has been voted upon, he will request an immediate and full investigation from the Korean authorities into Kang's involvement with the sinking of the
Sea Rover
and his potential connections to North Korea. In the meantime, he has authorized Homeland Security to issue a heightened domestic security advisory, with emphasis on aircraft and marine vessels arriving from Japan and South Korea.”

The younger Pitt began pacing across the room in frustration. “It's too little too late,” Dirk finally said in a low tone. “Promoting the removal of U.S. forces in South Korea is part of Kang's strategy, using the perceived terrorist threat from Japan as a diversion. Don't you see? If he's going to attempt a strike on the U.S., it will happen before the vote comes up in the National Assembly.”

“Which is just ten days from now,” Gunn said.

“Then we have to anticipate Kang's next move,” Pitt injected with a logical calmness. “We know he operates a large shipping line and therefore has comprehensive knowledge of American port facilities. It would figure that he would try to bring the weapons in via a commercial freighter, most likely on the West Coast.”

“Much easier than smuggling it on an airplane,” Giordino agreed. “Probably send them over on a Japanese-flagged carrier.”

“Or perhaps the elusive
Baekje
,” Dirk added.

“Yaeger has the rundown on what to look for in the way of biological components and likely storage,” Gunn said. “I'll see that customs is appropriately educated for their port inspections.”

“That may still be too late,” Pitt replied. “They could release the agent as they're sailing into port, contaminating the whole region before they dock. Think of San Francisco Bay, for example.”

“Or even before they arrive at port, if there is a prevailing wind. The release in the Aleutians was apparently launched by boat offshore of Yunaska Island, so it's certainly possible they could strike without entering port,” Dirk said.

“The Coast Guard is tasked with port security under Homeland Security jurisdiction and presently boards and inspects all incoming commercial vessels shortly before arrival in port,” noted Webster.

“But do they board and inspect offshore commercial vessels that are not port bound?” Dirk asked.

“I do not believe that the Coast Guard's resources are sufficient for that to be considered part of their security mission. They have beefed up their sea marshal program but still have a limited number of vessels available that they can put to sea. Asking for expanded coverage along the entire West Coast is well beyond their resource ability.”

“What about the Navy?” Summer asked. “Why can't some ships of the Pacific Fleet be pressed into service? With the national security at risk, it seems to me we should press every available military vessel into blockade duty.”

“A good question with a sticky answer,” Gunn responded. “It's a gray area of the Navy's mission. They're never big on playing a supporting role to the Coast Guard. They'd likely balk at the request until we got the secretary of defense or the White House to press the issue. I'll bring it up with the vice president, but, realistically, we're talking a week at best before they could be brought online. And that might be too late.”

“There is another option,” Pitt said, reaching into a desk drawer and withdrawing a daily report of NUMA research vessel assignments. “Let's see, the
Pacific Explorer
just arrived in Vancouver, the
Blue Gill
is conducting a marine survey off Drake's Bay north of San Francisco, and the
Deep Endeavor
is testing a submersible in San Diego. It's not a fleet of battleships, but I can reassign three of my research vessels to be in position off the major West Coast metropolitan ports assisting the Coast Guard in two days.”

“That would be a significant boost in offshore resources. And I'm sure the Coast Guard would be grateful for the support,” Webster said.

“Call it a temporary loan,” Pitt said. “At least until Rudi can find a way to bill back the charges.”

“I'm sure we can work out some sort of compensation for our support during this heightened state of alert,” Gunn said, eyeing Webster with a sharklike grin.

“It's settled, then. The West Coast NUMA fleet will initiate offshore bomb-sniffing exercises at once. One thing, though,” Pitt said to Webster in a rigid tone. “Kang already sank one of my vessels, I don't want to lose another. I want an armed cutter in the vicinity of my ships at all times.”

“Agreed. The interdiction teams will be alerted as well to the possibility of an armed response.”