Poseidon's Arrow

warily at Pitt when he noticed the flap was open.

“Go,” he said to Pitt. “They are less than ten minutes behind.”

“When are you going to blow up the compound?” Pitt asked.

Zhou stared at Pitt, his face an empty slate. The Americans had always been considered an unspoken enemy. But he found admiration for this man, having observed the better part of his escape on his hidden video cameras. Though he had seen labor camps in China, he was repulsed by Bolcke’s hidden slave operation.

“Twenty-two hours from now,” he said.

“And the captives?”

Zhou shrugged, then casually aimed his assault rifle at Pitt.

“It is time to go. You travel west, as I am going east.” He pointed into the jungle. “Do not follow me.”

Pitt looked past the expressionless face into Zhou’s black eyes, where a hidden intelligence and compassion were barely revealed.

“Thank you,” Pitt said.

Zhou nodded and turned, disappearing into the bush.

60

YAEGER WAS STILL PARKED IN FRONT OF HIS mammoth video display when Gunn popped by for an update. In contrast to Yaeger’s casual attire, the NUMA Deputy Director was wearing a sport coat and tie.

“What’s up with the fine threads?” Yaeger asked.

“I got called over to a meeting with the Vice President. He’ll want to know the latest on the search for Pitt and Giordino.”

Yaeger shook his head. “Search-and-rescue ops continue to come up empty. The Navy has in fact informed us they will be calling off their search efforts at the end of the day.”

“Anything more on the Adelaide?”

“Nothing concrete. Our formal requests to INTERPOL and every Coast Guard organization between Alaska and Chile have produced nothing.”

“If she’s afloat, someone has to have seen her,” Gunn said. “Have Dirk and Summer arrived in Panama?”

“They were rushing to catch a red-eye to Panama City.” He glanced at the video board, whose numerous displays included a digital clock in the lower corner. “Presuming they made their flight, they should be landing about now.”

Gunn had followed Yaeger’s gaze to the screen and noticed an e-mail notice with Pitt’s name on it. “Mind if I ask what that is?”

“Not at all. In fact, I was just going to ask if it made any sense to you. It’s an e-mail that was sent to the NUMA website a few days ago. One of the girls in public relations forwarded it to me when she didn’t know how to respond. Probably somebody’s four-year-old playing on a keyboard.”

He enlarged the e-mail until its brief message was clearly displayed:

To Pitt. Abduc wsearr haytk lexkyann

“Looks like gibberish,” Gunn said, “except for the last word. Must have been penned by someone named Ann from Lexington, Kentucky.”

“That’s all I made out of it.”

“I’d stick to your four-year-old theory.” He patted Yaeger on the shoulder. “Give me a shout if anything new on the ship comes in.”

“Will do. Give my regards to the admiral.”

Gunn took the Metro to downtown Washington, exiting at the Farragut West Station and walking the three blocks to Sandecker’s office in the Eisenhower Building. The Vice President welcomed him to a meeting table built from old ship timbers, where he introduced him to the DARPA security director, Dan Fowler, and a female FBI division director named Elizabeth Meyers.

Sandecker could see by Gunn’s weary face that Pitt’s disappearance weighed heavily on him. “What’s the latest on Pitt and Giordino?”

“Search-and-rescue teams still haven’t found a thing. The Navy’s calling off their efforts today.” He looked at Sandecker and waited for him to react.

He wasn’t disappointed. The Vice President’s face turned red, and he marched to his desk and buzzed his secretary. “Martha. Get me the Chief of Naval Operations on the line.”

A few seconds later, he was chewing out an admiral who had previously outranked him. He slammed down the receiver and returned to the table. “The Navy’s search has been extended three more days.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vice President.”

“What about that ship you told me about?” Sandecker asked.

“The Salzburg?” Gunn said. “She was last reported in New Orleans. Homeland Security’s checking with the local port authority to see if she’s still there.”

“What’s the connection?” Fowler asked.

“Mostly circumstantial,” Gunn said. “The Salzburg appears to have been in the vicinity of the Adelaide when she disappeared with Pitt aboard. Just one of the straws we’re grasping at in a mystery with few clues.”

“We know the feeling,” Meyers said.

“Sorry?” Gunn said.

“Rudi,” Sandecker explained, “before Pitt disappeared, he was involved in the recovery of some highly classified plans related to a submarine project called Sea Arrow.”

“The Sea Arrow. Isn’t that a concept for a high-speed attack sub?”

“There is nothing conceptual about it. At least there wasn’t until now.”

“I’m guessing,” Gunn said, “that this relates to the recovery of that boat off San Diego, the Cuttlefish?”

“Exactly,” Sandecker said. “Only things have escalated into a full-blown national security disaster. Elizabeth, why don’t you fill him in?”

The FBI woman cleared her throat. “I should caution you this is classified information. Four days ago, an advanced propulsion motor built for the Sea Arrow was hijacked during transport from the Navy’s research lab at Chesapeake, Maryland.”

“Is that why a recent Homeland Security alert was issued?” Gunn asked.

“It was,” Meyers said. “Our agency has been working around the clock, examining every airport, shipping terminal, and truck stop in the country. I can’t begin to tell you the amount of resources assigned to the case.”

“And still no leads?” Sandecker asked.

“Plenty that have been false or dead ends. The best we have is a description of a Latino male who purchased a derelict Toyota, which was later involved in the hijacking. Beyond that, we’re still grasping for clues.”

“Do you think it’s still in the country?” Gunn asked.

“We’d like to think so,” Meyers said, uncertainty evident in her voice.

“That’s part of the reason you’re here, Rudi,” Sandecker said. “The FBI’s looking at all available resources and would like the NUMA fleet to help. Since your ships are often stationed in out-of-the-way places, they want to be made aware of any unusual behavior that might be seen concerning domestic shipping.”

“We’ve made the same request to the Navy, Coast Guard, and some of the major port operators,” Meyers added.

“Absolutely,” Gunn said. “I’ll pass the word immediately.”

Sandecker turned to Fowler. “Dan, do you have anything to add?”

“No, sir. Just that we’ve confirmed that Ann went missing shortly before the hijacking. We, along with the FBI, suspect that she was either killed or abducted by the same perpetrators.”

“Ann Bennett?” Gunn asked. “She was abducted?”

“Yes, and we fear the worst,” Meyers said. “She’s been missing for five days now.”