'Marcus Ryan is determined to get SOS involved. They could com- promise our plan and put the captives in real danger.'
'That settles it,' Sandecker said. 'We move immediately. We've got to strike at the heart of this thing, that facility in the Canadian woods. Kurt, did this young Indian give you any inkling where his village was located?'
'Ryan had him on a short leash. Ben seems to have disappeared, but I'll keep trying to find him.'
'We can't wait that long.' Sandecker's gaze moved over to a scruffy-looking man who had quietly slipped into the room during the discussion and taken a seat in a corner. 'Hiram, do you have something for us?'
Hiram Yeager was the director of the vast computer network that covered the entire tenth floor of the NUMA building. The center processed and stored the biggest amount of digital data on the oceans ever assembled under one roof. The brains behind this incredible display of information-gathering power was dressed in his standard uniform, Levi pants and jacket over a pure white T-shirt. His feet were stuffed into a pair of cowboy boots that looked as if they had come from Boot Hill. His long hair was tied in a ponytail, and his gray eyes peered out at the world through wire-rimmed granny glasses.
'Rudi asked me to see if Max would compile a list of places that have experienced sudden fish kills, and to cross-check when possible with nearby fish-processing plants or farms.'
'Do you want us to adjourn this meeting to the data center?' Sandecker asked.
Yeager's boyish face beamed with excitement. 'Stay right where you are. You're about to see a demonstration of Portable Max.'
Sandecker grimaced. He was impatient to get his troops moving and wasn't interested in Yeager's experiments, only their results. But his respect for the computer genius displayed itself in the same un- characteristic patience that allowed Yeager to ignore the NUMA dress code.
Yeager connected a laptop computer to various outlets and to the video screen. He clicked the ON button. Anyone who expected an or- dinary presentation didn't know Hiram Yeager. The image of a woman appeared on the video screen. Her eyes were topaz brown and her hair a shiny auburn, her shoulders bare down to the first hints of her breasts.
It was hard to believe that the lovely woman on the screen was an artificial intelligence system, the end product of the most complex electronic circuitry imaginable. Yeager had recorded his voice, digi- tally altering it to give it a feminine tone, and programmed the face of his wife, a successful artist, into the system. Max tended to be just as testy and petulant as she was.
When he was working in the data center, Yeager sat at a huge console and Max was projected in 3-D onto a giant monitor. 'With the Portable Max, you don't have to come to the data center to ask questions. The laptop connects to the mainframe, so I can bring her with me wherever I go. Isn't that right, Max?'
Normally, Max responded to the opening question with a daz- zling smile, but the face on the screen looked as if she had been suck- ing on lemons. Yeager fiddled with the connections and tried again.
'Max? Are you okay?'
The eyes looked down to the bottom of the screen. 'I'm feeling rather… flat.'
'You look fine from out here,' Yeager said.
'Fine?'
'No, you look wonderfulF
Sandecker's patience had run out. 'Perhaps you should send the young lady a bouquet of roses.'
'That always works for me,' Zavala said. Sandecker shot him a withering look. 'Thank you for giving us the benefit of your wide experience, Joe. I'm sure you can include it in your memoirs. Hiram, could you cut to the chase, please?'
Max smiled. 'Hello, Admiral Sandecker.' 'Hello, Max. Hiram is correct when he says you look wonderful.
But I think we should end this Portable Max experiment. In the fu- ture, we will visit you in the data center.'
'Thanks for your understanding, Admiral. What can I do for you.
'Please produce the data Hiram requested.' The face instantly disappeared. In its place was a map of the world.
Max's voice narrated: 'This map shows the locations where there have been fish kills near aquaculture facilities. I can give you specifics for each location.'
'Don't bother for now. Please show us those aquaculture sites owned by Oceanus.'
Some of the circles vanished, but a substantial number remained.
'Now go to Canada,' Sandecker said.
The picture zoomed in on Cape Breton. 'Bingo!' Paul Trout said. 'That's where Gamay and I had our run-in with Oceanus.'
Austin said, 'Max, could you draw a straight line from the
Oceanus site to the nearest lake in northern Canada?'
The map displayed a line that connected the coastal facility with the interior, but the lake it showed was too small and too close to civiliza- tion. After several tries. Max connected the aquaculture operation to the only lake large and remote enough to fit Nighthawk's description.
'We can run some satellite photos on this site, but my instincts tell me this is the right place,' Austin said.
'Thank you, Max. You can shut down now,' Sandecker said.
The screen went blank. Sandecker, who was obviously pleased with himself, turned to Zavala and said, 'Now that's how you han- dle a woman.' His face grew serious. 'I think it's time to get mov- ing,' he said.
Zavala raised his hand and cleared his throat.
'This is pretty rugged country. Assuming we find these hombres with no trouble, do we just drop in on them?'
Sandecker looked as if the question surprised him. 'I'm open to suggestions.'
'I've got one. Call in the Royal Canadian Mounties.'
'I'm sure you can do it without their help.' Sandecker showed his even teeth in a crocodile smile. 'You have carte blanche.'
'I'd rather have the Mounties,' Zavala said. 'If they're busy, a contingent of Special Forces might do.'
'I don't blame Joe for being doubtful,' Austin said, coming to his partner's aid. 'As the Trouts and I know, Oceanus shoots first and asks questions later.'
'It would take too long to go through the red tape necessary to in- volve the Canadian military or police. As for Special Forces, we would need presidential authority to trespass on Canadian turf. I don't see that coming.'
'In that case, I'd like to make a proposal,' Austin said. He related his conversation with Aguirrez.
Sandecker puffed thoughtfully on his cigar. 'Let me see. You'd like to use the resources of this Basque, who may or may not be a terrorist, to carry out a NUMA mission in a foreign country?' Sandecker said.
'If we can't use the U.S. Marines or the Mounties, he might be all we have.'
'Hmm,' Sandecker said. 'Can he be trusted?'
'He can be trusted to do whatever he can to find his relics. Beyond that I can't say, other than to remind you that he saved my life on two occasions.'
Sandecker tugged at his precisely trimmed beard. The idea of using the Basque appealed to the admiral's unconventional side, but he was reluctant to lose control of the situation. On the other hand, he had complete confidence in Austin and his team.
'Use your best judgment,' Sandecker said. 'There's something else,' Austin said. He told them about the overnight closing of the museum exhibition and the accident in- volving Senator Graham.
'But I know Graham well,' Sandecker said.
Gunn nodded. 'And guess what his commerce committee has been involved in lately? Legislation trying to close loopholes that would allow biofish to be shipped into the U.S.'
'Quite a coincidence, isn't it?' Austin said. 'Especially since he was returning from a party hosted by Oceanus.'
'Are you suggesting,' Sandecker said, 'that this exhibition was an elaborate cover for an assassination crew?'
'It fits. With Graham out of the way, those loopholes may never be closed.'
'I agree. There are certainly enough party hacks around to raise the possibility of bribes,' said Sandecker, who
