chloride, potassium chloride, and alkali metal chloride salts. These were packaged inside cesium metal containers within reinforced ceramic and steel drums. Once the concrete block was in the water, it would be lowered slowly to a ledge feet below. A fiber-optic camera on the line would guide the winch operator. He would take care not to nick or damage any other block while placing his. Each week, the INRC sailed through this region to make certain none of the blocks were leaking.
This area of the Celebes Sea was one of twelve oceanic regions where the INRC permitted radioactive waste to be deposited. The seabed here was geologically stable, and fishermen did not regularly sail these waters. Any leaks would not have a high impact on any peoples or economy. Of course, security was a relative state of mind. The waste would be highly radioactive for ten thousand years. But it had to be disposed of and, for now, this was one of the best places for that. Especially since scientists were discovering that even the strongest containers buried on land were subject to erosion from microbacteria. Many of these organisms had been buried in volcanic flows millions of years ago and remained dormant inside the rocks. Just a whisper of radiation from materials such as cobalt 60 caused them to be revived and eat through rock and metal.
The olive-skinned, black-bearded Jaafar watched with pride as his men went about their task. The thirty- seven-year-old had worked closely with the physicists hired by Mahathir bin Dahman. They had designed a safe and efficient process for off-loading waste. The walls of the bridge were decorated with documents from the INRC commending the Dahman operation.
Jaafar remained at his post until the operation was completed. He radioed the home office in Kuala Lumpur to tell them that everything had been successful. Then he went below to thank the crew and have lunch.
And to enjoy, as always, one delicious snack.
The irony of those INRC citations.
Chapter Ten
Royal Darwin Hospital is one of the finest, most modern facilities in Australia. A ten-story white structure, it has a unique mission. Because the population it serves lives across a vast region, with varied racial backgrounds and difficult climatic conditions, the hospital must be ready to deal with almost any kind of illness or injury.
Medically, they were ready for Lee Tong. Psychologically, no one was ready for him. Or what he brought to Australia.
The staff car rolled up to the front entrance of the hospital. As it did, an officer stepped from the lobby. He was a big man with hair the color of straw. Coffey was not up on his Royal Australian Navy chevrons, but this man had the carriage of a high-ranking officer. The driver ran around and opened Coffey's door. The petty officer saluted as the other man approached the car.
'Mr. Coffey, I'm George Jelbart,' the man said in a very thick Australian accent.
'Good afternoon, sir,' Coffey said.
'Thank you for coming,' Jelbart went on. 'I hope the ride was not too uncomfortable.'
'It was fine, except for the curiosity burning a hole in my head,' Coffey replied.
'Please forgive the secrecy,' Jelbart said. 'You'll understand why that was necessary.'
'I'm sure,' Coffey said. 'Thing is, I hate calling my boss and telling him that I don't know why I'm going someplace. It looks bad, us being an intelligence agency and all.'
'I understand. Again, you'll see why it was necessary.'
The men entered the hospital lobby. They walked past the casualty area toward the elevators, and went up to the fifth floor. There, toward the end of an L-shaped corridor, two leading seamen stood at ease on either side of a door. They each wore a sextant patch on their sleeve. When Coffey asked, Jelbart told him that the badge was from the navy's hydrographic survey branch. Both men wore handguns and no-nonsense expressions.
The men saluted as Warrant Officer Jelbart arrived. He returned the salute as he opened the door. Directly inside was a lead screen made up of three vertical panels. It was similar to the ones Coffey had seen in X-ray laboratories. The screen did not surprise him, but it did sadden him. A human being was lying on the other side of the screen.
There was a small window in the center. Jelbart gestured for Coffey to look through. The attorney stepped up and studied the patient in the bed. He was a dark-skinned, muscular-looking man with an intravenous needle in his arm and an oxygen mask on the lower half of his face. There were bandages over his bare chest, shoulders, arms, and portions of his face and scalp. Several monitors were hooked to his arms and temples.
'We think he's from Singapore,' Jelbart said.
'Why?' Coffey asked.
'It's his general physiognomy,' Jelbart told him. 'Also, he's wearing clothes usually worn by dockworkers at Keppel Harbor. His shark and anchor tattoos look like the designs they do there as well. At least, the portions that weren't burned away.'
'I see,' Coffey said. 'How did he get here?'
'He was picked up by an RAN patrol boat,' Jelbart said. 'They found him clinging to a few planks from what may have been a sampan. That's what the wood and curve of the wood suggested. He had third-degree burns over twenty percent of his body and a bullet hole in each leg. Ironically, the burns cauterized the wounds. Otherwise, he would probably have bled to death. He was out there for eight or nine hours before they found him.'
'He's lucky they found him at all,' Coffey said.
'Lucky is a relative term,' Jelbart said.
'How so?'
'Our patrol boats are equipped with radiation detectors,' Jelbart went on. 'They watch for anyone who might be trying to smuggle nuclear weapons through the region. They got a reading from our friend.'
'From him or from the wreckage?' Coffey asked.
'Both,' Jelbart replied. 'The doctors don't think he received a lethal dosage. There are tests, of course, though I understand the best sign will be if he actually wakes up. I'm told you know Brian Ellsworth.'
'Yes.'
'He is downstairs in the morgue with some local security officials and the wreckage,' Jelbart told him. 'We bathed the victim, but we don't want to clean up the planks until they've been analyzed.'
'So you're keeping it isolated,' Coffey said.
Jelbart nodded.
'Has anyone contacted the authorities in Singapore?' Coffey asked.
'Yes,' Jelbart replied. 'We're hoping they can help to identify this individual.'
'But he will be too sick to transport back to Singapore,' Coffey said knowingly.
'That happens to be true,' Jelbart told him. He faced Coffey. His voice was barely above a whisper now. 'But you're right, Mr. Coffey. We don't want him leaving here just yet. If this man was involved in the transport of nuclear materials, we don't know who else in Singapore might be involved. It could be members of the government, the military, or private industry. We don't want anything to happen to him until we can question him.'
'You know that you can't hold this man if he asks to be released,' Coffey said. 'He was found in international waters and committed no crimes that you're aware of. For all you know, he was a victim.'
'I understand that,' Jelbart said. 'Now let's talk about reality. This region is the world's best-traveled route for nuclear traffic. Your government has been at war with potential nuclear terrorists here and in Africa and the Middle East. But it's been on our shoulders to try to stop the goods in transit. That's not easy. Without trace radiation or known perpetrators, we have no right to board ships in the open sea. The coastline is another problem. Watching that eats up a lot of time and resources. I don't know what we're going to find out about this man. Air and sea patrols are searching the region where he was found. They're looking for more of the wreckage. So far, nothing has turned up. A few extra hours in the water may have diluted the radiation and the wreckage sufficiently to make detection difficult.'
