took over, inserting the tubes into larger stainless steel cylinders
that encapsulated a hydrogenation tank and fittings. The process was
repeated under bright floodlights several times over until five of the
large cylinders were assembled and placed into large shipping crates. A
forklift arrived and loaded the crates onto the same white Kang panel
truck that had delivered the ordnance, now making a return trip to the
covered dock with a highly revitalized form of the weapon.
Sarghov grinned in delight, knowing a large payday was coming his way.
His exhausted team of scientists had met the mark, verifying that the
ancient smallpox virus still packed a lethal punch, then boosting its
strength to murderous proportions. In less than forty-eight hours,
Sarghov's biologists had processed the sixty-year-old virus into an
entirely new killer, the likes of which the world had never seen
before.
What DO you mean the ship has yet to materialize?" Gunn rasped in
dismay.
The section chief of the FBI's International Terrorism Operations, a
compact man named Tyler, opened a file on his desk and perused the
contents as he spoke.
"We've had no information on the whereabouts of the cable ship Baekje.
The Japanese National Police Agency has been monitoring shipping
traffic in every port in the country, physically checking every ship
that remotely resembles the description offered by your NUMA crew.
They've come up empty so far."
"Have you checked ports outside of Japan?"
"An international notice has been posted with Interpol, and it is my
understanding that the CIA has been asked to provide inputs at the
request of the vice president. At this time, no confirming information
has been received. There's a million places she could be hiding, Rudi,
or she could have been scuttled herself."
"What about satellite imagery of the site where Sea Rover was sunk?"
"Bad timing there, unfortunately. With the recent flare-up of
political tensions in Iran, the National Reconnaissance Office has
repositioned several of its high-resolution imaging resources to the
Middle East. The East China Sea is one of many dead spots right now
that is only covered by periodic scans from non-geosynchronous
satellites. Which all means that the Baekje could move five hundred
miles between covering passes. I'm waiting for the historical images
from the last few days but have been told not to be too hopeful."
Gunn's anger softened as he realized that the slightly balding G-man in
the starched white shirt was a competent professional doing the best
with the resources he had available. "Any headway on the ship's
history?" he asked.
"Your man Hiram Yaeger gave us a good head start on that one. Yaeger
was the one who tentatively identified the ship as the Baekje, based on
a worldwide review of ship registries through his NUMA computer bank.
Apparently, there are less than forty known cable-laying ships of the
size and configuration reported by your NUMA rescued crew. We narrowed
the list down to twelve that were owned or leased in the Asia Pacific
region and the Baekje came up missing in action." The FBI man paused
as he leafed through the folder before extracting a white sheet that
carried the blurred markings of a fax copy across its header.
"Here we are, details of the vessel. Cable-laying ship Baekje, 445
feet long, gross tonnage of 9,500. Built by the Hyundai Mipo Dockyard
Company, Ltd." Ulsan, South Korea, in 1998. Owned and operated by
Kang Shipping Enterprises, Inchon, South Korea, from 1998 to 2000.
Since 2000, ship has been under lease to the Nippon Telegraph and
Telephone Corporation, Tokyo, Japan, for cable-laying services in and
around the Sea of Japan."
Setting the folder down, he stared straight into the eyes of Gunn.
"NTT's operating lease expired six months ago, at which time the Baekje sat unutilized in a Yokohama dock. Two months ago,
representatives from NTT renegotiated a one-year lease of the ship and
took possession of the vessel with their own crew. Port records show
she was unaccounted for during a five-week period, then appeared
briefly back in Yokohama approximately three weeks ago. She was
believed sighted in Osaka, where she apparently tailed the Sea Rover to
the East China Sea."
"Was the ship seized from NTT?"
"No. NTT officials were shocked to learn that their name was on a
revised lease agreement for the vessel since their fiber-optic cable
route had been completed. The NTT corporate representatives that
leased the ship were, in fact, impostors who buffaloed the Kang
Shipping agents. The Kang people produced the paperwork, everything
looked legitimate to them, though one representative thought it odd at
the time that the NTT people were providing their own crew, which they
had not done in the past. The Kang Shipping people are apparently
scrambling to file an insurance claim on the vessel now."
"Sounds like there must have been some inside information somewhere.
Any known links between the Japanese Red Army and Nippon Telegraph and
Telephone?"
"None that we've established yet, but we're looking into it. NTT's
executives are cooperating fully and seem eager to clear their name
from a possible connection. Official corporate sponsorship looks
unlikely, so the Japanese authorities are focusing on a possible
employee faction somewhere within the company."
Gunn shook his head discouragingly. "So we've got a four-hundred-foot
ship that has vanished into thin air, a U.S. government vessel that has
been sunk, and an empty list of suspects. Two of my people have been
kidnapped, possibly murdered, and we have no idea where to even look
for them."
"We're frustrated, too, Rudi, but we'll get them eventually. Sometimes,
these things just take time."
Time, Gunn thought. Just how much time did Dirk and Summer still have,
if any at all?
The hot shower felt delicious. Summer let the steaming water pelt her
body for more than twenty minutes before finally willing herself to
turn off the shower control knobs and reach for a towel. It had been
nearly four days since her last bout with cleanliness, she mentally
calculated, rerunning over in her mind the events of the last few days.
Stepping from the marble-tiled shower, she dried herself with a fluffy
towel, then wrapped the fabric around her body, tucking the loose end
under an armpit. Before her stretched an immense marble counter with
double sinks and gleaming gold fixtures set beneath an expansive
beveled mirror that stretched to the high ceiling. You had to give
these unsmiling thugs some credit, she thought. Someone around here
has taste.
After an uncomfortable night's sleep in the motor yacht, where she and
her brother took turns sleeping on the twin bed with their hands cuffed
behind their back, a trio of armed guards marched them ashore in the
morning. Peering at the massive residence perched on the stone bluff
above them, Dirk remarked, "Kind of reminds you of the Be
rghof, doesn't
it?" The stone structure with the commanding view over the Han River
did bear a passing resemblance to Hitler's vacation lair in the German
Alps. The image was made all the more complete with the surrounding
array of black shirted henchmen.
Prodded to the rock-enveloped elevator, they rode up to an interior
corridor level beneath the main quarters and were escorted to a pair of
guest rooms In rough English, a guard barked, "Prepare for dining with
Mr. Kang, two hour."
While Summer showered, Dirk surveyed his plushly decorated adjoining
room for a potential means of escape. The windowless rooms dug into
the face of the cliff, the only entry or exit being the corridor hall,
where two armed guards stood in front of each room's open door. If
they were going to make an escape, it probably wasn't going to happen
here, he figured.
As Summer dried her wet hair, she briefly became lost in the luxury and
allowed herself to enjoy the surroundings. She sniffed at an array of
exotic lotions and perfumes aligned on the marble counter, settling on
an aloe vera body lotion and a lilac-scented fragrance. A rack of silk
clothing stood in the corner, a conspicuous offering for female guests.
Running her fingers through the brightly colored collection of
petite-sized robes and dresses, she spotted a flaming red pullover
dress with matching short jacket that looked like it might fit.
Squirming into the silk dress, she eyed herself in the mirror and
admired the results. A little tight in the bust, but a fair
representation of a china doll, albeit tall and red-haired, she
thought, smiling at the reflected image. Finding an assortment of
shoes at the foot of the rack, she rummaged through a dozen pairs
before finding a black set of low-heeled flats that fit. Wedging the
shoes on, she cursed as a thumbnail cracked while tugging at a heel.
Instinctively, she rummaged through the bathroom counter, bypassing
combs and brushes before discovering one of a woman's essentials: an
emery board. Not a cheap cardboard version, the metal file sported a
small flat porcelain handle. Admiring the tiny tool, she absently
stuck it in a side pocket after smoothing her thumbnail. An instant
later, a pounding at the room door indicated her interval of private
luxury was over.
Exiting the room into the corridor at gunpoint, Summer found Dirk
standing casually with two rifle muzzles pointed at his back. He
looked at his sister in the stunning silk dress and let fly a wolf
whistle.
"I'm afraid we've only got a few rats to guide your chariot tonight,
Cinderella," he joked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the two
guards behind him.
"I see you've decided to stick with the Mr. Goodwrench look," she
countered, observing that he wore the same grease-and-sweat-stained
NUMA jumpsuit he'd worn since they were abducted.
"Afraid my available wardrobe was a little on the short side," he said,
pulling the cuffs of his jumpsuit up to midcalf range for emphasis.
"Never did care much for the Alfalfa sartorial look."
The four guards grew annoyed with their chattering and forcefully
guided them to the elevator, where they rode silently up one floor. The
doors opened on Kang's impressive dining room, with the broad vista
shimmering through the picture windows. Kang sat at the head of the
dining table, quietly reviewing the contents of a leather-bound folder,
while Tongju stood erect off his left shoulder. The Korean magnate
looked the part of an industrial captain, attired in a custom-fitted
navy blue suit from an expensive Hong Kong tailor, with complementary
maroon silk tie. His steely slate eyes darted toward the elevator
briefly, then returned to the documents before him, his face a mask of
cold austerity.
Dirk and Summer were escorted to the table, where their eyes briefly
drank in the scenic river scape view through the window before settling
on their captor host. They both mentally noted how the cove below was
fed by a narrow winding inlet that led to the wide river in the
distance. Standing before the table, Summer felt a chill run up her
spine as Tongju shot her a lascivious look, while Kang peered up
coldly. Her minor gaiety at being clean and finely dressed withered
away in the palpable presence of evil. She suddenly felt foolish in
the silken outfit and subconsciously clasped her hands in front of her
waist in nervous fear. But her anxiety diminished after she glanced
over at Dirk.
If her brother felt any fear, he didn't show it. Dirk stood tall with
his chin thrust out defiantly, yet carried a bored-with-it-all look on
his face. He seemed to enjoy peering down with derision at Tongju, who
stood nearly ten inches shorter. The assassin paid no heed and instead
spoke directly to his boss.
"The submersible operators from the NUMA vessel," he said with a touch
of disdain.
"Dae-jong Kang," Dirk retorted, ignoring Tongju, "CEO of Kang
Enterprises."
Kang nodded slightly, then motioned for Dirk and Summer to sit down.
The guards eased back to a side wall, where they kept a vigilant watch
over the two captives, while Tongju slid into a chair opposite Dirk.
"Mr. Pitt here was responsible for the death of our two men in
America," Tongju said, his eyes narrowing on Dirk.
Dirk nodded in mute satisfaction. It was as he suspected, the clear
connection between the salvage efforts on both Japanese submarines, as
well as the murder attempt on Vashon Island.
"A small world," Kang replied.
"Too small for mass murderers like you," Summer hissed in a low voice,
her anger taking rise.
Kang ignored the comment. "A pity. The men in Seattle were among
Tongju's top agents."
"A tragic accident, really," Dirk replied. "You must learn to recruit
employees with better driving skills," he added, his cold glance at
Tongju met by an equally frigid stare back.
"Fortuitous indeed, as we otherwise may have lost your generous
assistance in salvaging the I-411," Kang said. "I am most curious as
to what led you to the submarines."
"Luck, mostly. I discovered that an earlier Japanese submarine had
launched a few cyanide shells at the Oregon coast and wondered if
someone had recovered some similar shells and used them in the
Aleutians. It wasn't until I dove on the I-403 and discovered the
remains of the aerial biological bombs that it became evident that
there was something more afoot."
"A shame that the bombs were damaged during the vessel's sinking," Kang
said. "They would have been much easier to recover than those from the
I-411."
"But you did recover one bomb canister intact, which you discharged in
the Aleutian Islands."
Kang showed a hint of surprise at Dirk's remark. "Of course," he
replied. "Rather interesting how the Japanese combined a chemical and
biological agent in one weapon. Our test release revealed that the
efficacy of the biological agent was hampered by the d
ual release,
although the chemical component was more potent than we anticipated."
"Potent enough to kill two U.S. Coast Guardsmen," Summer commented.
Kang shrugged. "How did you come to have such a focus with the death
of two sailors in the Aleutians? Were you there?"
Summer shook her head in silence. Then Dirk spoke up.
"I was piloting the helicopter that your 'fishing trawler' shot
down."
Kang and Tongju looked at each other with suspicious eyes. "You are
rather a resilient man, Mr. Pitt," Kang finally stated.
Before he could respond, a side door swayed open and two men in white
waiter's jackets glided over to the table hoisting large silver trays
above their shoulders. A colorful array of seafood dishes was spread
before each place setting, followed by a glass of Veuve Clicquot
champagne. Dirk and Summer, having not eaten a full meal in days,
calmly attacked the food as the probing conversation continued.
"Your government... is rather displeased with the Japanese, I suspect,"
Kang prodded.
"Your shady activities under the guise of the Japanese Red Army was a
clever ruse but uncovered for what it was by my government. Your two
flunky hit men were easily traced to Korea," Dirk lied, grinning at
Tongju. "I suspect the authorities will be banging on your door any
minute now, Kang."
A brief look of agitation on Kang's brow suddenly softened. "A
commendable effort. But the truth is that the two men had no idea
themselves who their employer was. No, I think it is apparent that you
know nothing of our intent."
"The long-standing animosity of Korea toward Japan for their many years
of brutal colonization is well known," Dirk said, continuing the
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