Sea of Fire

It took a long moment for the captain to speak. It must have felt far longer than that.

'You're right,' Kannaday said at last. 'I called him out for this. I demanded that he surrender his post.'

'And what was his response?'

Carefully, the captain rolled down the neck of his sweater. There was a white surgical bandage taped to his throat. In the center of the bandage was an ugly red spot. Jervis Darling was not surprised to see it. Kannaday had to have been wearing the high collar for some reason. Had he been injured in battle, he would not have sought to hide the wound.

'Hawke put a blade to my throat.'

Darling snickered. 'You let him surprise you just as the pirates did.'

Kannaday did not reply.

'Hawke let you survive so you could absolve his team of blame,' Darling went on. 'On the one hand, I should not care about that. I am only concerned about results. The problem, Captain, is that I like people to meet or surpass my expectations. You have failed in that regard.'

'Once!' Kannaday said. There was frustration, not anger, in the captain's gravelly voice. 'We've had a single slip in more than a dozen very difficult, perfectly executed missions.'

'You had two slips, Captain Kannaday,' Darling pointed out. 'First the pirates, then Hawke.'

'All right,' Kannaday agreed. 'I made two mistakes. I accept that responsibility.'

'Wherein lies the problem,' Darling said. 'Errors can be repaired. Restoring trust is another issue.'

'Mr. Darling, I feel like a catboat in a bloody hurricane,' Kannaday said. 'I need to finish this job. Then I have to look ahead to the other jobs. I can live with the way things are between me and John Hawke. My ego can handle that. But how do I fix it with you?'

'You are the captain,' Darling said. 'Figure it out.'

'Sir, I'm trying very hard to do that,' Kannaday said. 'In the future we will attack or avoid any ship that comes close. We'll push the Hosannah to make up as much lost time as possible. I will work out my problems with John Hawke if you like.'

'Captain Kannaday, I don't 'like'!' Darling sneered. 'You suffered a mutiny on board your vessel!'

'It was a disagreement, Mr. Darling.'

'It ended when Mr. Hawke dictated shipboard terms from the hilt of a blade,' Darling pointed out. 'That, sir, is a mutiny.'

Kannaday was about to respond. Instead, his mouth clapped shut and he looked away.

'And you did nothing about it,' Darling went on. 'Was his knife at your throat all day?'

'No, sir.'

'How did he pay for his crime?' Darling demanded. 'What did he say when the wind changed and you put a knife at his throat? You did want to do that, didn't you?'

'I did, sir.'

'I wish you had,' Darling said. 'You cannot work for me and for Mr. Hawke. The way back, Captain, is to fix that.'

The silence in the kitchen was such that Darling could hear the water fizzing in the bottle.

Kannaday held Darling's gaze a moment longer. 'I understand, sir. Was there anything else?'

'No,' Darling said.

Kannaday nodded. Then he turned to leave. As the captain made his way around the counter, Andrew appeared to escort him from the estate. Andrew had been just out of earshot the entire time. Kannaday respected the secretary's devotion, his discretion, and above all his loyalty. If only everyone in Darling's service were like that.

Darling walked to the counter. He picked up his water and took a quick swig. He did not really care whether Kannaday won back his respect or not. All that mattered was having someone take charge of this mission. To see the rest of it through without event. To make sure he was not bothered on any future aspects of the operation.

Darling finished the water and wondered who that lieutenant would be. John Hawke was a confident man, and strength was a great motivator. Peter Kannaday was a frightened man. Fear could move a man as well, often in strange and unexpected ways.

Which is the greater asset? Darling asked himself.

The big, successful prehistoric predators had enormous power and guile. Sometimes, though, a startled vegetarian like a stegosaurus would swing its spiked tail and fell a mighty tyrannosaur. There were countless cracked skulls in the fossil record.

The tactics never changed. Only the combatants and their weapons.

Darling put the empty water bottle on the counter. He left the kitchen to briefly attend to his other businesses. The safe ones. The ones that had long ago lost their ability to challenge and gratify him. The ones that covered the world and reported on it.

A world that he would have a hand in reshaping.

Chapter Twenty-One

The Celebes Sea Friday, 9:44 P.M.

Monica Loh's patrol boat hovered about the second nuclear waste site. This was where the Japanese government was allowed to deposit material. Tokyo was also free to assign space to other nations, provided they adhered to the International Nuclear Regulatory Commission codes.

The officer did not like coming to the Japanese site. She did not like going to any place controlled by the Japanese. It was a purely psychological reaction but a strong one. People of smaller nations in this region were inevitably caught in the backwash of history created by China and Japan. The Chinese were ambitious, organized, and insensitive. With over a billion people to feed and manage, Loh did not blame them for their totalitarian efficiency. She did not have the same sympathy for the Japanese. They were greedy rather than ambitious. They were domineering, not just organized. And they were cruel rather than insensitive. When the Chinese turned outward it was for land and resources to control. The Japanese looked for people to subjugate.

Singapore had its own forms of overkill. Laws were strict and punishment stricter. Dissent was permitted as long as sedition and abusive language were avoided. Work was hard, wages were low, and the government did not do enough to ease the burden of laborers. The ship-builders and oil refiners were the backbone of the economy. The government could not afford to alienate them. Since the bulk of the population was of Chinese heritage, they understood the rules. But Singaporeans had, at heart, a gentle nature. Their discomfort about the Japanese came partly from history lessons and partly from a clash of natures. They experienced it on the seas, in the harbors, in the banks, and on the stock exchanges. Whenever FNO Loh was around Japanese sailors, military or otherwise, she felt as though she was on high alert. Even tourists made her uneasy. They seemed to be collecting memories instead of enjoying them.

Loh watched from the deck as the sailors lowered their gear into the water. They were just a few meters ahead of her, port side. They worked in silence as they had been trained to do. Talk was a distraction in military operations. Still, every one of the officer's senses was stimulated. She smelled the oil and salt of the sea. She heard the slapping of the waves against the hull of the patrol ship. Spotlights fastened to the rail played across the water. The net containing the equipment seemed to lose pieces as it descended into the darkness between the bright, patchy crests of sea. A strong, temperate wind pushed at her from the northwest. Though the woman's world was the sea, she had always felt a kinship with the wind. It moved across the ocean, just like she did. It was silent. And it had changing moods that were only noticed by those who got in the way. The stars were partly hidden by high, wispy clouds. They reminded Loh of a waitress she had once seen in Bangkok. The woman had worn a white gown with sequins that sparkled in the light. Now that Loh thought of it, she knew as little about that waitress as she did about the heavens. The world was full of mysteries.

Loh was relaxed as the men and women worked. She did not care whether they found the site to be