menacing by a long, thin Fu Manchu mustache. His squat, powerful build was more aptly suited to wrestling than golf, but his fluid movements revealed a flexibility to his strength. With the bored demeanor of a child putting away his toys, the man carefully disassembled an M-40 sniper rifle and placed the gun parts in a concealed compartment inside his golf bag. Pulling out a sand wedge, he forcefully lofted an overpowered shot out of the bunker in a spray of sand. He then calmly three-putted to finish his round, then strolled slowly to his car and stowed his clubs in the trunk. Exiting the parking lot, he patiently gave way as a flood of police cars and ambulances came streaking up to the clubhouse with sirens blaring, then he eased his car into the adjacent road where he quickly became lost in the local traffic.
A pair of technicians wearing protective gear steered the Deep Endeavor's Zodiac to the western shore of Yunaska, where they selected a young male sea lion from the assortment of dead mammals strewn about the beach. The animal was carefully wrapped in a synthetic sheet, then placed into a heavy body bag for transport back to the ship. The NUMA research vessel stood off nearby with spotlights beaming on the water, guiding the rubber boat back in short order. A section of the galley was cleared away and the sealed cadaver was stored in a cold freezer for the remainder of the voyage, just next to a crate of frozen sherbet.
Once all was secured, Captain Burch pushed the research vessel hard toward the island of Unalaska, with its port city of the same name, situated more than two hundred miles away. Running at top speed all through the night, Burch was able to bring the Deep Endeavor into the commercial fishing port just before ten the next morning. A weathered ambulance waited at the dock to transfer Sarah, Irv, and Sandy to the town's small airfield, where a chartered plane was waiting to whisk them to Anchorage. Dirk insisted on pushing Sarah to the ambulance in her wheelchair and gave her a long kiss on the cheek as she was loaded in.
“We've got a date in Seattle, right? I still owe you a crab dinner,” Dirk said with an engaging smile.
“I wouldn't miss it,” Sarah replied sheepishly. “Sandy and I will be down just as soon we're okay to leave Anchorage.”
After seeing the CDC team off, Dirk and Burch met with the village public safety officer and gave him a full report of the incident. Dirk provided a detailed description of the mystery fishing trawler and convinced the VPSO to furnish him with a listing of registered fishing vessels from the state licensing authority. The VPSO also agreed to check with the local commercial fishing entities for information but didn't hold out much hope. Japanese and even Russian fishing boats were known to ply the territorial waters illegally on occasion in search of fertile fishing grounds and had the habit of disappearing whenever the authorities tried to pursue them.
Burch wasted little time in the port city before turning the Deep Endeavor south, and sailing toward Seattle. Like everyone else, the crew of the ship had plenty of questions about the events of the preceding day but few answers.
Sarah, Irv, and Sandy endured a noisy and bumpy flight to Anchorage on one of the local twin-engine island- hoppers, arriving at the city's international airport late in the evening. Two exuberant college interns from the regional CDC office met them at the airport and transferred them to Alaska Regional Hospital, where they underwent a battery of toxicology tests and examinations. By this time, the threesome had regained their strength and were showing no outward signs of illness. Oddly, the medical staff was unable to diagnose any abnormal toxicity levels or other ailment with any of the three. After an overnight stay for observation, Sarah, Irv, and Sandy were released from the hospital with a clean bill of health as if nothing at all had happened to them.
Six days later, the Deep Endeavor cruised quietly into Puget Sound, turning east into the Shilshole Bay just north of Seattle. The research vessel tied up momentarily at the Ballard Locks, where controlled floodgates raised the ship and released it into the fresh water of the ship canal. The Deep Endeavor continued on into Lake Union before slowing along the north shore. Burch inched the vessel up to a private dock jutting from a small modern- looking glass building that housed the NUMA northwest field office. A gathering of the crew's wives and children lined the dock, waving enthusiastically as the ship approached.
“Looks like you've got your own welcoming committee, Dirk,” Burch remarked, pointing to two figures waving at the end of the pier. Dirk looked out the bridge window and recognized Sarah and Sandy among the happy throng greeting the turquoise ship. Sarah looked radiant in a pair of blue capri pants and a maize satin blouse, which complemented her trim figure.
“You two look like the model of health,” Dirk said as he warmly greeted the pair.
“No small part in thanks to you,” Sandy gushed. “Just one night in Alaska Regional Hospital and we were on our way good as new.”
“How's Irv?”
“He's fine,” Sarah replied. “He's staying in Anchorage for a few more weeks to coordinate the completion of our sea lion study with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. They agreed to provide field support to help finish our research investigation.”
“I'm so glad everybody is well. So what was the medical diagnosis in Anchorage?” Dirk asked.
Sandy and Sarah glanced at each other briefly with a searching look, then shrugged and shook their heads in unison.
“They didn't find anything,” Sarah finally said. “It's something of a mystery. We all showed signs of an inflamed respiratory track, but that was about it. Blood and urine samples came back clean. If we did inhale a toxin, it was purged from our systems by the time we reached Anchorage.”
“That's why we're here to pick up the sea lion. Hopefully, there will be some indicators still evident in the animal's tissue,” Sandy said.
“So, you're not here to see me?” Dirk intoned sadly with an exaggerated frown on his face.
“Sorry, Dirk,” Sarah laughed. “Why don't you come meet us at the lab later this afternoon after we do our analysis? We can go grab a late lunch.”
“I would like to know the results,” he agreed, then led the two on board to retrieve the frozen sea lion.
Once the mammal was hauled away, Dirk and Dahlgren helped secure the ship, transferring ashore the sensitive high-tech survey gear that was stored in an adjacent warehouse. With their docking shores complete, the crew of the Deep Endeavor gradually dispersed to enjoy a few days of R&R before the next project set sail.
Dahlgren approached Dirk with a rucksack tossed over one shoulder and the pair of crutches under one arm. Only a slight limp was noticeable from his calf wound when he walked.
“Dirk, I'm off to rustle up a date with a sexy teller I met at the bank before we shipped out. Should I see if she has a cute friend?”
“No, thanks. Think I'll get cleaned up and go see what Sarah and Sandy discovered from our sea lion Popsicle.”
“You always did have a thing for the brainy types,” Dahlgren chuckled.
“What's with the crutches? You've been off those things for three days now.”
“Never underestimate a woman's sense of sympathy,” Dahlgren grinned, placing one crutch under an arm and pretending to limp in agony.
“If I were you, I wouldn't underestimate a woman's ability to detect bad acting,” Dirk replied with a laugh. “Happy hunting.”
Dirk borrowed the keys to a turquoise NUMA Jeep Cherokee and drove a short distance to his rented town house overlooking Lake Washington. Although he called Washington, D.C.' his home, he enjoyed the temporary assignment in the Northwest. The lush wooded surroundings, the cold, clear waters, and the youthful and vibrant residents who thrived in the sometimes bleak and damp weather made for a refreshing environment.
Dirk showered and threw on a pair of dark slacks and a thin pullover sweater, then downed a peanut butter sandwich and an Olympia beer while listening to a litany of messages on his answering machine. Satisfied that the earth had not come to a stop in his absence, he hopped into the Jeep and headed north on 1-5. Exiting east past the lush Jackson Park Golf Course, Dirk turned north and soon entered the park like grounds of Fircrest Campus. Fircrest was an old military complex that had been turned over to the state of Washington and now housed offices and operations for a variety of state government agencies. Dirk spotted a complex of square white buildings surrounded by mature trees and parked in an adjacent lot fronted by a large sign, stating: Washington state public health laboratories.
A perky receptionist phoned up to the small CDC office shared by the state lab and a few moments later Sarah and Sandy appeared in the lobby. A portion of the cheeriness they showed earlier in the day had clearly left their faces.
