Poseidon's Arrow dp-22

by Clive Cussler

  The comments struck a nerve with Jintai, who constantly decried the inferior weapons the People’s Liberation Army fielded. “Perhaps it would be an appropriate time to act,” he said to Tao.

  “Perhaps,” Tao said, “but wouldn’t it create havoc with our Western trading partners?”

  “It’s possible,” Bolcke said, “but what can they really do? To maintain their own shaky economies, they will have no choice but to partner with you and share in their developments.”

  The spymaster casually lit a cigarette with an expensive lighter. “What is in all this for you, Mr. Bolcke?”

  “Your actions will increase the profitability of my mineral brokering business. And I trust you will allow me to sell a portion of the Mount Weld output to friendly trading partners at a healthy profit.” He said nothing of his intent to supply the growing black market in rare earth elements from the mine, nor the fact that he could purchase the property for two hundred million dollars less than he demanded.

  Tao nodded. “We will take the matter up with the politburo as an urgent priority,” he promised.

  “Thank you. In hope of arriving at a mutually beneficial outcome, I have one other item to offer. In the past, I’ve been able to pass along a few military technologies from my U.S. security firm, for which you have generously compensated me.”

  “Yes,” Jintai said. “We have already fielded the crowd-control device to quell some incidents of unrest in the western provinces.”

  “I have installed units aboard two of my ships, which have been modified to an impressive level of lethality. I will be happy to share these modifications if you are interested. But that technology is inconsequential compared to what I can now offer you.”

  He spread two more photos on the table.

  “This is an artist’s rendering of the Sea Arrow.” Bolcke pointed to the first glossy. “The Sea Arrow will be the world’s most highly advanced stealth submarine.”

  Jintai gave a curious look, and Tao nodded in recognition.

  “The Sea Arrow will operate at extremely high speed, using a complex propulsion unit in conjunction with a supercavitation system.” Bolcke pointed to the second image. “It will place the American Navy’s submerged fleet several generations ahead of your own.”

  Jintai’s face simmered red. “We are always three steps behind.”

  “Not this time,” Bolcke said with a shark-toothed grin. “Less than one hour ago, I came into possession of the initial power plant that was scheduled to be installed on the Sea Arrow next week. In addition, I now have the one and only copy of the plans and drawings for the submarine’s supercavitation system.”

  He leaned over the table in a gloating pose. “The Americans can duplicate the power plant only with rare earth elements. And without the supercavitation plans, their submarine is worthless.”

  The Chinese officials did their best not to appear too eager. “You are willing to share these items with us?” Tao asked with feigned indifference.

  “Sources tell me the Americans have secretly spent over a billion dollars in developing the Sea Arrow. If we have a deal on the other items we discussed, I shall be happy to sell you the motor and the plans for an additional fifty million dollars.”

  Tao didn’t blink. “When could you deliver it?”

  “The motor and plans will arrive by ship in Panama in five days. I’ll be happy to make the transfer there.”

  “It is an attractive proposal,” Tao said. “We will afford it appropriate consideration.”

  “Excellent.” Bolcke collected the photos and glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to catch a flight to Sydney. I’ve opened preliminary discussions for the acquisition of Mount Weld, so I will eagerly await your reply.”

  “We will move as quickly as we can,” Jintai said.

  The general called for an aide, and Bolcke was escorted out after everyone stood and shook hands. Jintai poured a whiskey for Tao and another for himself.

  “Well, Tao, our Austrian friend makes a compelling case. Since our economy is strong, we can afford to muscle the marketplace. And why not try to make the technological leap that will assure our safety for the next century?”

  “There could be potential economic repercussions that the General Secretary won’t relish,” Tao said, “but I agree that it is worth the risk.”

  “Will he balk at the loan and cash payments?”

  “Not when I explain the value of the Sea Arrow technology. We’ve had agents trying to penetrate the program, but with no success. I don’t question Bolcke’s estimate of their expenditures. In fact, he may be understating their costs.” He studied his glass of whiskey. “We must do what we can to obtain it.”

  Jintai smiled. “Then it is agreed. We will jointly support the proposal to the General Secretary.”

  “But there is one problem with our Austrian friend.” Tao turned to Zhou, who had been sitting silent throughout the meeting. “Please, tell the general what you have learned.”

  Zhou cleared his throat. “General, I was assigned to investigate thefts of rare earth elements from our primary mine operation in Bayan Obo. There I found an organized crime ring that was systematically stealing crushed ore and transporting it to Tianjin. I tracked an illicit delivery that was loaded aboard a freighter called the Graz.” He paused, glancing at Tao for confirmation to keep talking.

  “Should the name mean something to me?” Jintai asked.

  “The Graz,” Tao said, “is owned by Bolcke’s shipping company.”

  “Bolcke is orchestrating the theft of our own rare earth?”

  “Yes,” Tao said. “He was brought in as a consultant at the mine some years ago, giving him opportunity to establish the theft ring. But it’s worse than that.” He nodded at Zhou.

  “I examined a number of port records to track the freighter’s path,” Zhou said. “From Tianjin it sailed to Shanghai, and then to Hong Kong, where it off-loaded thirty metric tons of crushed bastnasite that the Ministry of Commerce had purchased on the open market. The purchase was brokered through Bolcke’s firm, Habsburg Industries.”

  “Bolcke is selling us our own rare earth?” Jintai nearly popped out of his chair.

  Zhou nodded.

  “The greedy swine!” Catching his breath, he turned to Tao. “What do we do now?”

  Tao carefully snuffed his cigarette in an ashtray before locking eyes with Jintai.

  “The American technology must be obtained at all costs. We will send Zhou to Panama to proceed with its acquisition.”

  “What about the rare earths? Do we proceed with the export ban and fund the mine acquisition?”

  “We will still push for the export ban. As for the mine funding . . .” His hardened face turned sly. “We will arrange to pay back Mr. Bolcke in a manner that will produce the same ends.”

  37

  PLUMERIA BLOSSOMS, MIXED WITH THE FAINT aroma of aviation fuel, filled the air as Pitt and Giordino exited the terminal at Honolulu International Airport. The bright sunshine and tropical breeze instantly washed away the fatigue of their twelve-hour flight from Washington. Giordino hailed a cab, and they hopped in for the short ride to Pearl Harbor.

  The palm-lined streets brought back a flood of memories to Pitt. He had spent considerable time in the Hawaiian Islands during his first years with NUMA. It was here he had fallen in love with a radiant woman named Summer Moran. Though it had been decades since he had last seen her alive, her delicate face and sparkling eyes remained as clear to him as the sky overhead. The deceased mother of his two grown children, she lay buried in an ocean-view cemetery on the other side of the island.

  Pitt shook away his recollections as they reached the entrance to the Navy base. A young ensign was waiting for them at the visitors’ gate and politely loaded their bags into a Jeep. He navigated onto the docks and pulled up next to a slab-sided vessel with a slim, round superstructure that looked like it had been lopped off with a sharp knife.

  “What is it?” Giordino asked
. “Some sort of car ferry on steroids?”

  “You’re not far from the mark,” Pitt said. “The Fortitude’s design is based on a high-speed automobile ferry built by an Australian company.”

  “Catamaran hull?” Giordino said, noting the ship’s rotund bow was supported by twin vertical hulls.

  “Yes, and made of aluminum. The Fortitude is driven by water-jet propulsion. She’s part of the Military Sealift Command, and is designed to transport troops and equipment quickly. The Navy’s building a small fleet of them.”

  As they retrieved their bags from the Jeep, a lantern-jawed man in fatigues approached them. “Mr. Pitt?”

  “Yes, I’m Pitt.”

  “Lieutenant Aaron Plugrad, Coast Guard Maritime Safety.” The man reached out and shook Pitt’s hand with an iron grip. “My men are already secured aboard the Fortitude. I’m told we can shove off at any time.”

  “What’s the size of your team, Lieutenant?”

  “I lead a squad of eight men, well trained to combat piracy operations. If there’s a hijacking attempt, we’ll stop it.”

  Plugrad and his men came from a little-known command called the Coast Guard Deployable Operations Group. Essentially a SWAT team at sea, they were trained in counterterrorism, high-risk ship boardings, and explosives detection.

  “One question for you, sir,” Plugrad said. “We received a crate from NUMA containing a dozen high-end Hazmat suits. We went ahead and loaded the crate aboard ship.”

  “Those are for your men,” Pitt said. “Be sure each is issued a suit when we board the Adelaide. We have a theory that the potential assault may involve the use of a beefed-up microwave system similar to those developed by the Army for crowd control.”

  “I’m familiar with that system,” Plugrad said. “We’ll take the necessary precautions.”

  Pitt and Giordino boarded the sleek ship, where they were greeted by the Fortitude’s captain, a prematurely gray Navy commander named Jarrett. He led the NUMA men to the bridge, where he outlined their proposed course on a navigation monitor.

  “We’ll be looking to rendezvous with the Adelaide here,” Jarrett said, stabbing a finger at an empty expanse of ocean southeast of the Hawaiian Islands. “It’s about eleven hundred miles from Oahu. We’ll zero in on the Adelaide’s course once we get closer, but we should catch her in less than twenty-four hours.”

  “Twenty-four hours?” Giordino shook his head. “Do you have jet engines on this thing?”

  “No, just four big turbocharged diesels. On a good day, we can run close to forty-five knots. Since we are carrying a light load, we should be able to sail close to that speed.”

  “Why fly and miss out on a nice sea breeze?” Giordino said.

  “That’s what the Fortitude was designed for. We can transfer a battalion of men across the Atlantic in two days.” Jarrett eyed a nearby chronograph. “If you gentlemen have no objection, we’ll get under way.”

  The Fortitude’s diesels started with a rumble. The lines were cast, and the three-hundred-and-thirty-eight-foot ship maneuvered out the narrow entrance of Pearl Harbor and turned southeast. It cruised past Waikiki and the towering face of Diamond Head before cranking up speed. The brick-shaped ship accelerated quickly, rising up on its sharp catamaran hulls. The seas were calm, allowing Jarrett to run at nearly full out. Pitt watched the navigation monitor in awe as the vessel easily eclipsed the forty-knot mark.

  In a few hours, the last of the Hawaiian Islands disappeared off the stern horizon as they raced into an empty expanse of the Pacific. Pitt and Giordino joined Plugrad and his team on deck, sharing insights on what they might encounter, as they reviewed defensive boarding measures. After dining in the ship’s cavernous mess hall, they turned in for the night.

  Pitt detected the Fortitude’s engines slowing later the next morning while he was exploring the hold with Giordino. The two men climbed to the bridge, where they spotted the Adelaide a mile off the bow.

  She was a dry bulk carrier, six hundred feet long, sporting a forest green hull and a gold superstructure. A black-stained funnel and rust around her hawsehole indicated a seasoned career, but she otherwise looked well cared for. She cut through the waves low to the surface, her five holds filled to their hatch covers.

  “Her captain has acknowledged our arrival and is prepared to take you on board,” Jarrett reported.

  “Thanks for the quick run, Captain,” Pitt said. “You have a gem of a vessel.”

  “Sure you boys can’t stick around?” Giordino asked Jarrett. “If the Adelaide’s a dry boat, I may need you to make a beer run.”

  “Sorry, but we’re due stateside in thirty-six hours.” Jarrett shook hands with both men. “I’ve ordered our launch deployed for you. Good luck and safe travels.”

  Plugrad had his Coast Guard contingent assembled when Pitt and Giordino reached the deck. They climbed into a covered launch and were piloted to the freighter, where an accommodation ladder had been lowered along the Adelaide’s flank. Plugrad’s men leaped onto the platform and bounded up the ladder, seemingly oblivious to the weapons and sixty-pound packs they carried. Pitt waved to the launch’s pilot as he stepped off it and followed Giordino up the ladder.

  A dour pair of crewmen in ill-fitting jumpsuits and black boots met them on the deck. “Your quarters are this way,” one of them said, motioning toward the stern superstructure. “The captain will meet with you in twenty minutes in the ship’s mess.”

  The two crewmen led the party aft as the Adelaide’s engines rumbled to higher revolutions and the big ship resumed speed. As they were led to their berths on the second level of the superstructure, Giordino glanced back at the Fortitude speeding off to the northeast and he suddenly felt thirsty for a beer.

  38

  THE MASTER OF THE ADELAIDE WAS NOTHING LIKE Pitt had expected. Rather than the staid, experienced captains that typically commanded large commercial ships, the Adelaide’s master was a young, scrawny man with jittery eyes. He stepped into the mess and regarded Pitt, Giordino, and Plugrad coolly before shaking hands and sitting down with them.

  “My name is Gomez. I’m told you are expecting a hijacking attempt.” If he was concerned by the news, it didn’t show on his face.

  “We’ve found a pattern of attacks in the Pacific,” Pitt said. “The ships were all carrying rare earth elements, the same as your cargo.”

  “You must be misinformed,” Gomez said. “This ship is loaded with manganese ore.”

  “Manganese?” Giordino asked. “Didn’t you take on a full shipment of monazite in Perth?”

  “We shipped from Perth, but our cargo is manganese.”

  “Your corporate headquarters,” Pitt said, “confirmed otherwise.”

  Gomez shook his head. “An honest mistake. The electronic manifest record must have been confused with another of the company’s vessels. These things happen. I’ll call your supply ship and have them retrieve you.”

  “That won’t be possible,” Pitt said. “The Fortitude has its own schedule to keep.”

  “Plus,” Giordino said, “we might not be the only ones who are misinformed.”

  “That’s correct,” Plugrad said. “I wouldn’t want to pull my men off, then find out later that you ran into trouble. We’re supposed to remain aboard until you dock in Long Beach, so we’ll stick to the plan.”

  “Very well,” Gomez said, his words laced with irritation. “Please confine yourselves to the main deck and the second-level staterooms.”

  “Al and I will take shifts on the bridge and act as liaison to the lieutenant should we encounter another vessel.”

  Gomez noted Pitt’s determined tone and nodded. “As you wish. But no armed men will be permitted on the bridge.” Gomez stood up from the table. “I must return to my duties. Welcome to the ship. I’m confident you will enjoy a quiet and routine voyage.”

  After Gomez left, Giordino looked at Pitt and Plugrad and shook his head. “Well, how do you like them apples? No rare earth, and a cranky
punk for a captain to entertain us the rest of the way.”

  “Not much we can do about it now,” Pitt said. “And if we’re wrong, quiet and routine isn’t exactly the worst of outcomes.”

  The truth was, Pitt’s radar had been on full alert since he stepped aboard the Adelaide. Something about the crew and captain wasn’t right. He’d been aboard enough merchant ships to know that crews came in a variety of flavors and attitudes, and a salty welcome in itself wasn’t anything unusual. But the circumstances made it peculiar. Facing a potentially deadly hazard, the ship’s crew should have been happy for the added insurance—or, at the very least, curious. As they settled onto the ship, Pitt and his men were instead treated as a nuisance. Crew members seemed to watch their every move, yet refused to engage in even casual conversation.

  On the bridge, Pitt and Giordino were shunted aside and ignored, their requests for information falling on deaf ears. Gomez barely acknowledged their existence and refused even to dine with Pitt, holing up in his cabin when not on duty.

  During their second night aboard, Pitt paced the bridge, his presence ignored as usual. Shortly before the shift ended at midnight, a crewman appeared and approached Gomez, glancing at Pitt as he spoke in hushed tones.

  Surveying the radar screen, Pitt noticed the image of a vessel appear ahead of them, traveling on a similar heading. He stepped closer to the screen to see the ship’s AIS registry. The Automatic Identification System, a satellite-driven program required of all commercial ships over three hundred tons, provided speed and heading data, as well as an identity, for all such ships at sea. But for the ship on the radar now, there was no AIS display.

  “She doesn’t have her AIS turned on,” Pitt said to Gomez. “That seems a bit suspicious out here.”

  “Sometimes the signal is lost,” Gomez said. “Or she could be a military vessel. It means nothing.”

  The captain stepped close to the helmsman, whispered something in his ear, and then moved to the opposite end of the bridge. Pitt ignored the captain and kept tracking the Adelaide’s speed and heading. He wasn’t surprised when the mystery vessel slowed a knot or two until it vanished from the radar screen.