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Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

Page 46

by Cussler, Clive


  manifest, the remaining contingent began a bow-to-stern search of the

  ship. With the dogs leading the way, the search crew wedged through

  the ship's holds, checking the container seals and examining several

  loose crated shipments of running shoes and apparel manufactured in

  Taiwan. A gritty Malaysian crew looked on with bored amusement as the

  yellow Labs sniffed their way through the dimly lit crew's quarters.

  Dirk stood on the bridge of the Deep Endeavor, studying the Japanese

  cargo ship. A pair of the freighter's crew stood on the deck looking

  back at the NUMA vessel. Dirk tossed a friendly wave as the two

  men leaned against a railing in disheveled clothes, smoking cigarettes

  and cracking jokes in an obviously relaxed manner.

  "There is no threat from this ship," he turned and said with certainty

  to Captain Burch.

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "The crew is too lax. The men on Kang's ship were no-nonsense

  professionals, not the ragtag jovial sort on this tub. There would be

  a slew of paranoid undercover security types running around as well,"

  he added, recalling the image of Tongju and his men.

  "Be worth noting to Aimes when he gets back. If nothing else, it's

  still a good practice exercise for the boys. And, heck, I got Dahlgren

  off the bridge for a few minutes at least," the captain smiled.

  "We've still got to find them first. There's just too many places to

  hide at sea," Dirk muttered.

  As the search team appeared above decks for a moment, Captain Burch

  picked up a pair of binoculars and scanned the horizon. He noted a

  pair of dots far to the southwest, then scanned to the north, taking in

  the Narwhal as she started to pull away from the container-ship. Burch

  started to drop the binoculars when a sudden glint caught his eye.

  Raising the glasses and adjusting the focus, he smiled broadly, then

  spoke to Dirk.

  "I guess there will be a few less places to hide on the sea now that

  our illustrious leaders of the deep are checking things out from the

  balcony."

  Two thousand feet above the calmly rolling swells of the Pacific, the

  silver Icarus floated gracefully across the sky at thirty-five miles

  per hour. While the elder Pitt handled the blimp's flight controls,

  Giordino adjusted a row of dials at the base of a flat-panel color

  monitor. A WE SCAM long-distance camera mounted to the side of the

  gondola, a supplement to the LASH imaging system, fed into the

  monitor, providing a zoom image of objects located hundreds of yards

  away. Pitt glanced from the flight controls to the monitor, which

  displayed a close-up picture of the stern of a small boat where two

  bikini-clad women were stretched out sunbathing.

  "I hope your girlfriend doesn't catch wind of your voyeuristic

  tendencies," Pitt laughed.

  "Just testing the resolution," Giordino replied in a serious tone while

  prankishly zooming the image in and out on one of the women's

  behinds.

  "Ansel Adams you're not. Let's see what that setup will read with a

  real target," Pitt said, turning the airship west toward an outbound

  vessel a few miles away. Dropping down a few hundred feet, Pitt nosed

  the Icarus to starboard and increased the throttle, gradually gaining

  ground on the departing ship. While still nearly a half mile away,

  Giordino zoomed the camera lens onto the stern of the black-hulled

  freighter, easily reading the name: "Jasmine Star... Madras." He

  raised the camera along the ship's deck, noting a stacked array of

  containers, before settling on the bridge mast, where the monitor

  revealed a flag of India snapping crisply in the breeze. "Works like a

  champ," Al said proudly.

  Pitt looked at the LASH screen on the laptop, which showed an empty

  swath of sea in advance of the Indian freighter. "Nothing coming up on

  the main shipping channel for the time being. Let's keep going south,

  where it looks like there's a little more activity," he said, noting

  several images on the left edge of the screen.

  Maneuvering the blimp south, they soon passed over the Narwhal and the

  containership she just searched, then they cruised over a portion of

  Catalina Island. Passing back over the water, Giordino pointed out the

  windshield toward a turquoise ship in the distance.

  "There's the Deep Endeavor. Looks like she has gotten into the act as

  well," he said, noting the red freighter idling nearby.

  Pitt guided the blimp toward the NUMA ship, calling it up on the radio

  as they approached.

  "Icarus to Deep Endeavor. How's the fishing down there?"

  "Nary a nibble," Burch's voice replied. "How are you gentlemen

  enjoying your sightseeing flight?"

  "Delightful, except for Al's incessant crunching at the caviar table,

  which is interrupting my enjoyment of the in-flight movie. We'll see

  if we can't rustle you up some more business."

  "Roger, we'd be much obliged."

  Giordino adjusted the blimp's LASH system, examining it for targets.

  "Looks like we've got an inbound vessel in the main shipping channel

  about twenty-two miles to the northwest and what looks like a couple of

  stationary targets eighteen miles to the west of us," he said, pointing

  to some gray-and-white patches on the monitor that contrasted with the

  blue ocean background.

  Pitt looked at the laptop, then glanced at his watch. "We ought to be

  able to catch the northwest ship on the fly. Let's go see what's

  parked out here first," he replied, aiming the blimp to the west and

  toward the two large smudges on the screen that were oddly sitting

  still.

  Firing A rocket off the Sea Launch platform is traditionally preceded

  by a seventy-two-hour launch countdown. During the three-day

  preparation, dozens of tests are performed to ensure that all support

  systems are operational and all mechanical and computer systems aboard

  the rocket are ready to withstand the violent rigors of launch. At

  T-15 hours before launch, the engineers and all but a handful of

  crewmen are evacuated from the platform as the final stages of the

  countdown progresses. The assembly and command ship is then moved to a

  safe operating area four miles up range of the platform.

  At T-5 hours, the last of the crewmen are evacuated from the platform

  aboard a helicopter and the remaining countdown procedures are handled

  remotely from the support ship. With less than three hours to go, the

  hazardous operation of fueling the launch vehicle is performed

  automatically, the kerosene and oxygen combustibles remotely pumped

  into the rocket from the large storage tanks housed on the platform.

  Once fueled, the decision is then left to the launch engineers aboard

  the support ship to proceed with the launch and fire the rocket when

  ready.

  Absent the luxury of time, Ling's team of launch engineers consolidated

  the Sea Launch firing procedures into a bare-minimum schedule.

  Redundant and nonessential tests were scrapped, built-in launch holds

  were eliminated, and the fueling time reduced on account of the

  shortened flight
plan. By their accord, they could launch the Zenit in

  just eight hours from the time the Odyssey was ballasted and

  stabilized.

  Tongju stood on the platform near the base of the launch tower and

  gazed at a large digital clock mounted on the roofline of the hangar.

  The red illuminated numbers read 03:32:17, with the digits clicking

  backward a second at a time. Three hours and thirty-two minutes until

  liftoff. Barring a major technical difficulty, there would be no

  halting the launch now. In Tongju's eyes, it would soon come down to

  the simple task of fueling the rocket and lighting it off.

  But before the button could be pushed, the Koguryo had to obtain total

  control of the launch process. Ling and his engineers first

  established a radio link to the automated launch control system, which

  was tested and verified through the Koguryo's launch control center.

  Then there was the transfer of the Odyssey's own command system. A

  wireless marine positioning system allowed the launch platform to be

  remotely controlled after all personnel were evacuated for launch. like

  a radio-controlled toy, the platform could be raised, lowered, or moved

  by the touch of a keypad aboard the Koguryo. Once the controls had

  been passed to the support ship, Ling approached Tongju on the deck.

  "My work here is complete. Full system control now lies on the

  Koguryo. My team and I must return to the support ship to resume

  launch countdown activities."

  Tongju glanced again at the countdown clock. "My compliments.

  You are ahead of schedule. I will call for the Koguryo's tender and

  you may take your men off the platform at once."

  "You will not be joining us now?" Ling asked.

  "I must secure the prisoners first, then my assault team will follow

  along. It is my desire to be the last man off the platform before

  launch," Tongju said. "That is, except for the men who will not be

  coming off at all," he added with a sinister smile.

  "There's not supposed to be an oil platform located here."

  Giordino's eyes shifted from the large square object on the water ahead

  of them to an oversized navigational chart he'd folded on his lap. "No

  man-made hazards are indicated in this region at all. I don't think

  the Sierra Club is going to take kindly to some stealth drilling this

  close to the coast."

  "They might be even more perturbed when you tell them the oil platform

  has a rocket aboard," Pitt replied.

  Giordino squinted out the airship's windshield toward the approaching

  platform. "I'll be. Give that man with the eagle eye a cookie."

  Pitt turned the blimp as they approached, making a wide loop around the

  platform and adjacent support ship, careful to avoid its airspace.

  "Sea Launch?" Giordino asked.

  "Must be. I didn't think they'd move it around with the rocket

  standing upright, though."

  "I think they're parked," Giordino replied, noting there was no wake

  from the nearby support ship. "You don't suppose they would be

  launching from here?"

  "No way. They are supposed to fire those things off from the equator.

  They would at least be up north off the Vandenberg range if they were

  going to try a live launch around here. Probably some sort of test,

  but let's find out."

  Pitt punched a switch on a marine band radio and hailed the platform

  through his headset.

  "Airship Icarus to Sea Launch platform. Over."

  An empty pause ensued and then Pitt repeated the call. After another

  lengthy lull, an accented voice finally replied.

  "This is Sea Launch platform Odyssey. Over."

  "Odyssey, what is the nature of your position? Do you require

  assistance? Over."

  Another long pause. "Negative."

  "I repeat, what is the nature of your position?"

  A pause again. "Who is requesting inquiry?"

  "Friendly sorts, aren't they?" Giordino said to Pitt.

  Pitt shook his head slightly and spoke again into the radio. "This is

  airship Icarus, supporting Coast Guard border security. Please

  identify current state. Over."

  "This is Odyssey. We are conducting system tests. Please stay clear.

  Over and out."

  "The guy's a regular Gabby Hayes," Giordino said. "Do you want to

  stick around? We need to roll back north if we want to intercept that

  incoming vessel," he said, pointing to the radar screen.

  "I guess there's not much we can do from up here. Okay, we'll do our

  job and play tag with the next inbound vessel. But let's have one of

  the boys downstairs check this out," Pitt said, turning the airship

  around to the north.

  Giordino took to the radio as Pitt laid in an intercept course toward

  the inbound commercial ship. "The Deep Endeavor and the Narwhal are

  working this region. Deep Endeavor is still searching a Japanese

  freighter, but the Narwhal is freed up at the moment. She says the

  platform is outside their twelve-mile operating limit, however."

  "We're not asking for an interdiction boarding. Just request a remote

  visual survey and verification with Sea Launch authorities."

  Giordino spoke into the radio again, then turned to Pitt. "Narwhal

  agrees and is on her way."

  "Good," Pitt replied, watching the platform fade away in the distance

  behind them. But he didn't feel good. A nagging sensation told him

  they had missed something on their flyover. Something important.

  Kim stood with Tongju on the bridge of the Odyssey watching the blimp

  circle away to the north.

  "They did not loiter for very long. Do you think they suspect

  anything?" Kim asked.

  "I do not know," Tongju replied, his eyes moving from the blimp to a

  chronometer mounted on the bulwark. "The launch will take place in

  just over two hours. There is no room for interference now. Return to

  the Koguryo, Ki-Ri, and stand by with Captain Lee. If there is any

  attempted outside hindrance, deal with it decisively. Do you

  understand?"

  Kim looked his commander squarely in the eye and nodded. "I understand completely."

  Dirk and Captain Burch listened in on the Deep Endeavor's Coast Guard

  radio as Giordino asked the Narwhal to survey the Sea Launch platform

  and support ship. Minutes later, the Narwhal called up the NUMA

  vessel.

  "Deep Endeavor, we have completed inspection of the containership

  Andaman Star and are proceeding to the offshore platform for a visual

  inspection. No incoming traffic in our quadrant is presently in range,

  so you may accompany us at your convenience if desired. Over."

  "Shall we take a look?" Captain Burch asked of Dirk.

  "Why not? Business is slow. We can follow along once we're finished

  here."

  Burch glanced at the Japanese freighter, noting that Aimes and the

  search crew were beginning to assemble at the rail, their inspection

  nearly complete.

  "Affirmative, Narwhal" Burch radioed to the Coast Guard vessel.

  "We'll shadow you upon completion of our current inspection, in another

  five or ten minutes. Out."

  "Wonder what piqued the old man's interest," Dirk asked rhetorically as

&nb
sp; he and Burch peered across the horizon trying to make out the image of

  the floating platform.

  Three miles away, the Narwhalhzd stoked up its twin diesel motors and

  was skimming across the waves at its top speed of 25 knots. The

  eighty-seven-foot cutter was one of the newer Barracuda-class patrol

  boats employed by the Coast Guard, designed to work out of smaller

  ports and harbors. With their mission focused primarily on inspection

  and sea rescue, the boat's crew of ten was only lightly armed with a

  pair of 12.7mm machine guns mounted on the bow deck.

  Lieutenant Bruce Carr Smith braced himself against a bulkhead in the

  cramped bridge as the white-and-orange-trimmed boat lurched over a

  swell, her bow slapping the sea with a spray of foam.

  "Lieutenant, I've radioed command headquarters. Dispatch is going to

  contact the Sea Launch port office to determine what's up with their

  platform," the Narwhal's red-haired communications officer stated from

  the corner.

  Smith nodded in reply, then spoke to a boyish-looking helmsman manning

  the wheel. "Steady as she goes," he said firmly.

  The two dots they chased on the horizon gradually grew larger until the

  distinct shapes of an oil platform and a utility ship drew into focus.

  The support ship was no longer aside the platform and Smith could see

  that it was in fact moving away from the stationary platform. Smith

 

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