Poseidon's Arrow

under review, plus the Office of Naval Research has a number on their end.”

“What’s the damage locally?”

“Eight private defense contractors, not counting Heiland, plus three university research programs.”

“Enough to keep us busy a while. Thanks, Dan. Can you do me one more favor?”

“Sure, name it.”

“Can you pull the travel history of your DARPA team assigned to Sea Arrow? I want to check for any trips to the major hot spots: East Asia, Russia, and the Middle East.”

“No problem. By the way, here’s the security list for the President’s shipyard tour at Groton a few weeks ago.” He handed her a sheet, which she placed to the side of her desk.

“Interested in lunch?”

“No, I’m good,” she said, diving into the subcontractor data. “Thanks for the reports.”

As she dug into the files, Ann soon realized there was only a peripheral connection between the other contractors and Heiland. Most of the subcontracts focused on hull design and electronic systems, with little, if any, interplay with Heiland’s supercavitation system. Eberson had been the central conduit for all the systems Heiland was developing.

Ann stood and stretched before picking up the security list from the President’s Groton tour. There were only seven names, three from the White House and four from the Pentagon. She immediately noted Tom Cerny’s name. With only Fowler’s off-the-cuff remark as a basis, she phoned in the names to an NCIS colleague and requested an online background check. While she waited to receive an e-mail with the results, she thought of the rarity of a murder like Heiland’s.

The theft of industrial or defense secrets seldom crossed over the line to homicide. Yet Heiland, Eberson, and Manny had been murdered for their work on the Sea Arrow, while Ann and Pitt were nearly added victims. Only a handful of rogue nations would risk such provocative measures, but others might if working through a proxy. The Colombian government certainly wasn’t competing with the U.S. in defense weaponry, so clearly the thieves were working for someone else. But who?

Ann began examining other domestic espionage cases, searching for a pattern. Ignoring terrorist and computer hacking cases, she found that most spy busts involved diplomatic and policy secrets, from individuals or groups serving the old antagonists of Moscow, Beijing, and Havana. Of greater interest were a handful of cases involving military and commercial technology thefts by Chinese operatives. Though none had the earmarks of Heiland’s case, it was clear that China, more than anybody, was aggressively pursuing foreign military technology.

She found that China had a long history of stealing and imitating technology from foreign powers, primarily the Russians. Copycat artillery systems, antiaircraft missiles, and even Navy destroyers had long upset the Kremlin brass. But the Russians weren’t the only target. Several items in the Chinese arsenal bore strong similarities to American weapons. Aviation experts found a suspicious resemblance between China’s J-20 stealth fighter jet and the American F-22A Raptor. The country had recently announced the deployment of a crowd-control system identical in appearance to a device developed by the U.S. Army. And a new Chinese helicopter that mimicked the U.S.’s Apache was said to be imminent.

Engrossed in her work, Ann didn’t realize it was nearing six o’clock until her phone rang. She had covered a lot of ground but had little to show for it. She answered the call with a weary voice, becoming alert when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hi, Ann, it’s Dirk. Still at the salt mine?”

“Yes, chipping away. How are you?”

“Just fine. Say, I was wondering if you could meet me for dinner tomorrow night? I have something we need to discuss.”

“Tomorrow? Yes, that would be fine. Is it something important?”

“Could be,” Pitt said, hesitating. “I’d like to know if you’d go on a cruise with me.”

29

ANN CAUGHT SEVERAL MEN STARING AT HER AS she swept through the dining room of the Bombay Club with only a slight limp. Dressed in a saffron linen dress that clung to her curves, she resembled a runway model more than a criminal investigator. She ignored the looks as she stepped through the restaurant onto an elegant patio that overlooked Lafayette Park. She quickly spotted Pitt at a corner table.

He was seated next to a tall, attractive woman who looked vaguely familiar. With a touch of unease, Ann forced a smile as she approached the table.

Pitt rose and greeted her warmly. “No more crutches?”

“No, the ankle is much better, I’m happy to say.”

“Ann, I’d like you to meet my wife, Loren.”

Loren sprang to her feet and gave Ann a warm hug. “Dirk’s told me all about your ordeals in Mexico and Idaho. Though he apparently forgot to mention how pretty you are,” she added without spite.

Whatever instinctive resentment Ann may have felt toward Loren melted at the unexpected compliment. “I’m afraid to say that all our troubles went for naught.” Ann gave Pitt a guilty look, and described how she and Fowler had been robbed of Heiland’s research.

“That sounds like no coincidence,” Pitt said, concern etched on his face.

“More like blatant espionage,” Loren said. “We need to get some high-powered resources involved.”

“There’s already at least three FBI teams assigned to the case,” Ann said, “along with DARPA’s staff security and several NCIS investigators, besides me.” She looked at Loren, her eyes brightening in recognition. “You’re the congresswoman from Colorado.”

“Careful, you’ll blow her cover,” Pitt said with a laugh.

“I thought you looked familiar,” Ann said. “I remember your efforts to pass legislation to improve benefits and leave for enlisted parents in the military. You’re a hero to women in the armed forces.”

Loren shook her head. “They were just some minor changes that should have been enacted long ago. Seriously, though, if there are any chains that I can rattle at Homeland Security to help your case, just say the word.”

“Thank you. We’ve got the support of the Vice President as well as the White House, so I think the resources are in place. We just need a break or two so we can find out who these people are.”

A waiter arrived and they each ordered a curry dish for dinner, with Pitt tacking on a bottle of Saint Clair Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand.

“How long have you two been married?” Ann asked.

“Just a few years,” Loren said. “With both our travel schedules, it often seems we’re two ships passing in the night, but we make it work.”

“The trick,” Pitt said, “is making sure the ships collide on a regular basis.”

Loren turned to Ann. “Is there a special person in your life?”

“No, I’m happily unattached at the moment.”

Their entrees arrived, all spicy enough to mandate a second bottle of wine.

“This shrimp curry is withering my tongue, but I can’t stop eating it,” Ann said. “It’s really delicious.”

Later Ann excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. Once she was out of earshot, Loren leaned over to Pitt. “That girl is attracted to you.”

“Can I help it if she has good taste in men?” he said with a grin.

“No, but if you get any ideas, I’ll cut out your spleen with a rusty butter knife.”

Pitt laughed, then gave Loren a long kiss.

“Not to worry. I’m quite attached to my spleen—and prefer to keep it that way.”

When Ann returned, they nibbled on sorbet for dessert. Then Pitt pulled a silver rock from his pocket and set it on the table.

“One lump and not two?” Loren said.

“It’s a souvenir from Chile,” Pitt said. “I think it may have something to do with the Heiland case.”