Sea of Fire

not try the escalade, as it was called, with a man on her back.

'Officer Loh, pass him up!'

Someone was shouting down at her. FNO Loh looked up. Bob Herbert was sitting in her seat. He was holding on to the strap and leaning out. His right arm was extended. She had to climb another three rungs to reach it.

The officer looked ahead and pulled herself up another rung.

'Officer, stop or we'll lose you both!' Herbert yelled. 'Help him climb over your back onto the ladder. I'll grab him. I promise.'

Loh did not acknowledge. She did not want to give up before the job was finished. That was not how she lived, and it was not how she had been trained. She looked straight ahead, at the landing strut. She tried to climb another rung. Her arms were so weak they were shaking. She stopped.

'Dammit, my legs may not work but I can curl fifty pounds with each arm,' Herbert said.

The man leaned close to Loh's ear. 'I'm going to try to reach your friend,' he said.

'All right,' Loh replied.

The Singaporean officer snaked her left arm through the rungs so her right arm was free. The man shifted to her right side and grasped the rung above her. She used her free arm to help him up. Bob Herbert was right. This was easier than trying to move them both. Meanwhile, Herbert reached behind the man and hooked a hand under his good arm. That gave the man all the extra lift he needed. With Loh pushing from below, he was able to make it into the doorway. Herbert pulled him in. Loh followed.

'You okay?' Herbert asked when Loh climbed in.

'Yes,' she said. 'Are you sure there isn't time to get the other man?'

'Very sure,' the pilot said, glancing at the fuel gauge. 'We need to pull out. Now.'

The naval officer understood. She unhooked the ladder, pulled it in, and shut the door. She piled it against the door, then fell into the empty seat across from Herbert. She looked at him as the pilot swung the helicopter to the southwest. 'Thank you, Bob.'

'Yes, thank you,' said the new arrival.

Loh and Herbert looked at him. The man was sitting in the seat that Herbert had vacated to help him aboard. He was soaked and shivering. He had his left elbow cupped in his right hand.

'Do you have a towel back here?' Herbert asked the pilot.

'I'm afraid not,' the pilot replied.

'A bottle of water?' Herbert asked.

'I finished it a hundred miles back.'

Herbert regarded the man and shrugged. 'Sorry.'

'That's all right,' he said weakly. 'I'm just glad to be here. I thought I was a dead man.'

'How about that arm?' Herbert asked. 'We can rig a sling for you.'

'It's my shoulder, actually,' the man said. 'It was hurt when the boat was upended. It will keep.'

'We'll get that taken care of ashore,' Jelbart said. 'In the meantime, talk to us. Who are you?'

'I am Peter Kannaday, captain of the Hosannah,' the man said weakly. 'And you people are?'

'I'm Warrant Officer Jelbart. The gentleman across from you is Bob Herbert, and the lady is Female Naval Officer Loh.'

'Australia, America, and — Singapore?'

Loh nodded.

'I thank you all,' the man said with a little nod to each.

'Tell me, Captain. What were you doing out here?' Jelbart asked.

'And who was that individual in the water with you?' Loh asked as she removed the damp pilot's gloves. She flexed her cold fingers. 'You said he betrayed you.'

'He betrayed me, and he betrayed Australia,' the man replied coldly, his eyes fixed on something far away.

'How?' Loh asked.

The man blinked quickly as though waking from a trance.

'Captain Kannaday?' Loh pressed.

'Forgive me,' the man said. Suddenly, he began to sob. 'Officers, if you would indulge me. This has been a terrible night. I would like to shut my eyes for just a few minutes.'

'Captain Kannaday, we understand what you've been through. But this is rather urgent,' Jelbart said. 'I need you to tell us who the man was and why you were out here.'

'His name is Hawke,' the man replied. 'John Hawke. And he brought the Hosannah out here to sink it.'

'Why?' Jelbart asked.

The man sat back and shut his eyes. He said nothing.

'Captain?' Jelbart said. 'Captain!'

'Officers, I must rest,' the man said. 'Please. For just a few minutes. It won't change anything, I assure you.'

Water dribbled down the man's temples and forehead, and his head slumped against the window. Loh leaned across the aisle and jabbed him with a finger. He grumbled but did not open his eyes.

'If this were Singapore, we'd wake him,' Loh said.

'If this were Singapore, I'd help you,' Herbert said. 'We've got a nice, long ladder. What are the international laws about fly-fishing a guy from a helicopter to wake him?'

'It's called 'extreme coercion,' Mr. Herbert,' Jelbart said. 'What your legal system would define as 'cruel and unusual punishment.' '

'These are extreme and unusual circumstances,' Loh remarked. Her tone was unsympathetic. She did not respect weakness. Especially from a man whose life she just saved.

'Nonetheless, this man is not the pirate we found,' Jelbart said. 'As far as we know, this man has not committed a crime. We have no recourse but to bring him in and question him at his convenience.'

'There are times when we worry about etiquette and protocol too much,' Loh said.

'I'm with Officer Loh on that,' Herbert said. 'We have two responsibilities here. One is to the captain. The other is to a few million people just like him. In one case, a guy may be inconvenienced. In the other case, tens of thousands may die. That's not even a contest to me.'

'We can honor both,' Jelbart insisted. 'The captain asked for a few minutes. Let us at least give him that.'

Herbert shook his head, and Monica Loh sat back. She wondered if Jelbart would have been so compassionate if Captain Kannaday had been American. Or Singaporean. Australians were notoriously protective of their own.

Because it was her nature, she also wondered whether Captain Kannaday were really asleep or whether he had been listening carefully to everything they said. Trying to decide what he should say.

She did not know. One thing she did know, however. Soon, someone on board was going to be apologizing to someone else on board for a serious miscalculation.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Washington, D.C. Saturday, 1:24 P.M.

Research was job number four for Paul Hood. That came after quarterbacking, cheerleading, and devil's advocacy.

Hood usually did research only on weekends, when Op-Center had just a skeleton staff. He actually enjoyed it. Searching for information exercised his linear thinking. It gave more logic to those 'yeah but…' questions. It also shut out his emotions, his fears. He was totally in the moment.

Bob Herbert had left the cell phone open. Hood had put the call on the speakerphone, cranked up the volume, and listened to the conversation between the rescue team and Peter Kannaday. As soon as he heard that name,