to locate the vessel that made this drop. The ship that was scheduled to have been at the 130-5 site is owned by Mahathir bin Dahman of Malaysia. Warrant Officer Jelbart has heard of Dahman. He is involved with waste disposal on a global scale.'
Hood made a note of the name.
'Jelbart is not hopeful of tracking the missing material from here,' Coffey continued. 'If the ship sold the nuclear material, the vessel will already have gotten a face-lift. If they were just pawns, it will be difficult to get timely interviews with anyone who may have been involved. The Malaysian government is not known for opening its books, so to speak. Especially when it comes to the country's leading citizens.'
Coffey then asked Hardaway if the NRO would have a look at the region. Perhaps they saw something. Hardaway had left Hood a note saying that he had checked with the NRO. They did not routinely watch the Celebes Sea. The only time they would turn a satellite to the region was if they learned the Chinese or Russians were also doing so. Like the United States, those nations often tested their satellite systems using targets in out-of-the-way sectors. New space cameras were often calibrated and focused using targets on ships or submarines.
Hood archived the messages, then put in a call to Bob Herbert. The intelligence officer would have been airborne for a little under six hours. That was just enough time to make him cranky. Herbert enjoyed being in the field. But once Herbert started downloading mission data into his brain, he was anxious to act on it. Waiting killed him.
The pilot of the TR-1 said that Herbert was sleeping. He asked if Hood wanted to talk to him anyway. Hood said he did not. He was sure Herbert would check in when he woke.
As Hood hung up, he got a call from Stephen Viens. For several years Viens had been the Satellite Imaging supervisor at the National Reconnaissance Office.
Viens had been a college chum of Matt Stoll, Op-Center's chief technical officer. Because of their close relationship, Viens had always given Op-Center's needs top priority. Viens was now Op-Center's internal security chief. He still had friends at the NRO, however. Whenever they came across something that might be of interest to Op-Center, they let him know.
'Paul, I just got a call from Noah Moore-Mooney at the NRO,' Viens said. 'Bob Herbert had put out an APB on activity in the Celebes Sea.'
'Curt Hardaway said there's nothing going on there,' Hood said.
'There wasn't,' Viens said. 'Until a few minutes ago.'
'What have you got?' Hood asked.
'Our
'What area?' Hood asked.
'The coordinates are one-hundred and thirty degrees longitude, five degrees latitude,' Viens told him.
'That's where Lowell Coffey is,' Hood said, 'along with Australian and Singaporean naval vessels. Why the hell would China be watching two small naval ships?'
'How would they even know the ships were out there?' Viens asked. 'Flyover?'
'Maybe,' Hood said.
It was unlikely that the Chinese would be dealing in third-party nuclear material. They had enough of their own to sell, much of it to Pakistan.
'Stephen, when you were at the NRO, did you come across any cooperative satellite use?' Hood asked.
'You mean would another nation have access to the Chinese satellite?' Viens asked.
'Right.'
'Allies like the Vietnamese or North Koreans asked Beijing for intelligence,' Viens said. 'But China controlled the hardware.'
'All right, Stephen, thanks,' Hood said. 'Let me know if you get any other information about this.'
'Will do,' Viens said.
Hood hung up. He looked at his computer clock. He needed to call someone. Someone who had not been returning his calls. But right now it was the only person who might be able to get him the information he needed.
Hood picked up the phone and placed one of those calls he was comfortable making. One he was good at. One where the fate of nations, and not the fate of Paul Hood, was at risk.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Raja Adnan bin Omar and his radio operator stood in the small dark cabin of the fishing boat. The radio operator was standing beside a shortwave set on a shelf.
The radio operator's legs were bent slightly to help him stand on the rocking deck. Bin Omar was at the wheel. Both men were dressed in heavy black pullovers. Their heads were uncovered, their hair and beards well groomed. A wet wind hissed against the windows. It punched through the old wood of the cabin walls. The two men were accustomed to it. So were the two other fishermen aboard the thirty-footer. One of them was bin Omar's twenty-seven-year-old son. They were below, putting fish in large ice lockers and repairing the nets. They had caught more fish during their zigzagging delay. When they were finished, they ripped the nylon strands on purpose so they would have something to do. In case they were ever boarded, bin Omar wanted them to be busy. Idle men looked guilty, even if they were not. The lockers were stored in a closet at the stern of the vessel. Two of them were made of lead. They were not designed to hold fish.
Automatic weapons were also stored below in case they were needed.
The radio operator removed his headset. 'They are just over two hours from us. They apologized again for the delay.'
'Did they give you a reason?' bin Omar asked.
'Mr. M said only that the problem was mechanical in nature,' the operator replied.
'Ah,' said bin Omar. 'The excuse that cannot be disproved.'
'Perhaps they will tell us more when we are together,' the radio operator suggested.
'They will have to,' bin Omar said. 'Our employers will certainly wish to know more. But it is not our problem. We are merely messengers.'
For the first time in more than a year of dealings, Captain Kannaday had failed to make a rendezvous. The sixty-two-year-old fisherman was unhappy about that. He disliked the unexpected, whether it was a storm, a surprise inspection by harbor police in Pontian Ketchil, or a delay. It was particularly dangerous in the smuggling business. Whether they were transporting drugs, weapons, or nuclear material, seamen did not like being out in the open sea. Here, they were equally vulnerable to patrol ships and pirate vessels.
Bin Omar hoped that Captain Kannaday had a reasonable explanation. Though processed nuclear waste was not the easiest material to obtain, Kannaday was not the only supplier in the region. Until today, he had simply been the most efficient. And the group with whom bin Omar was associated, the Kansai Unit, demanded reliability. The Asian group also demanded accountability. Bin Omar would have to explain the delay.
Despite that, bin Omar was at peace. His wife and other children were home and well cared for. And he was always at ease on these waters, which his family had sailed for hundreds of years. For whatever the fate of the angry men and the mad civilizations they built, he knew one thing for certain. The bin Omars would sail these seas for centuries to come.
Chapter Twenty-five
Shigeo Fujima was standing on the balcony of his apartment smoking a cigarette. The Japanese intelligence
