Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

by Cussler, Clive

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