“All right,” Mercer breathed resignedly. He didn’t acknowledge Lindstrom as he strode from the room, his dulled mind thinking that Andy’s new emergency might be another of Kerikov’s fronts.
The communications center was a small office dominated by a built-in counter with several multiline phones, fax, and teletype machines, plus two powerful marine transceivers. Three people were monitoring the fax, the teletype, and the huge radio sets, while a fourth was deep in conversation at a desk phone. Aggie Johnston was standing over by the desk, a cigarette smoldering between her fingers. She ran to Mercer when she saw him enter, pressing herself tightly to him.
“What happened?” she said against his chest.
“Abu Alam is dead. You don’t want to know the details. What’s going on here?”
“A tanker has been seized by terrorists, but its captain escaped. He’s on the phone right now. He thinks the ship is going to be scuttled somewhere near Seattle.”
“Is this another PEAL operation?”
“Mercer, almost the entire active core of PEAL was on the
“I’m sorry. You’re right,” Mercer replied, shamefaced. Until yesterday she had believed in them and their cause, and this morning she had lost a great number of friends and her ex-lover. Under the circumstances, her response was much milder than it could have been. “This is something Kerikov must have planned with another group. What’s the captain’s name?” He directed the question at the woman on the phone.
“Hauser, Captain Lyle Hauser.”
“Has this call been verified? It could be some crackpot.”
“Authentication protocol has been used. Hauser is the captain of the VLCC.” She didn’t protest when Mercer took the handset from her.
“Captain Hauser, my name is Mercer. I’m the acting head of security here at Alyeska. I’m sorry, but I need you to run through what happened again.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Hauser shouted. “Those lunatics are going to sink the ship and cause a slick the size of Lake Superior.”
“Where are you now?”
“Victoria Island, British Columbia, a little town called Port Alice. I was dropped here by the commercial fishing boat that rescued me.”
“Was Seattle the destination of your vessel?”
“No, for Christ’s sake, how many times do I have to go through this with you people? We were headed to Long Beach when my First Officer and a group of terrorists masquerading as workers took over my ship. I managed to sabotage the engines and maybe delay them by a couple of days. The damage I caused forced them to change their plans, so rather than scuttle the
“
“Yes. No. Well, it was. The ship was just sold, but that’s not important right now,” Hauser persisted. “We’ve got to stop them.”
“You’re goddamned right we’ve got to stop them.” Pieces were falling into place, frightful conclusions that Mercer really didn’t want to explore. “Captain, I need to make some calls and then get back to you, but I want you in Seattle as fast as you can make it. Chartering a plane is your best option. But for now, give me your telephone number and stay close by. I’ll be in touch within ten minutes.” Mercer was about to hang up when he remembered something critical. “Captain, the name of the company that bought your ship is SC amp;L, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll call right back.” Mercer cut the connection and dialed Dick Henna’s cellular phone.
As he waited for the connection to be made, Aggie approached, her face lined with concern. “What’s that about Petromax?”
“It’s one of your father’s tankers that was hijacked.”
“But he sold them.”
“Maybe,” Mercer said, then turned away brusquely as the director of the FBI came on the line. “Dick, it’s Mercer, no time for bullshitting. Get a pen and write this down. I need to know if a company called Southern Coasting and Lightering has filed a flight plan for one of their corporate jets from either Sea-Tac Airport or the one in Vancouver, British Columbia, destination someplace in Louisiana. There’s a tanker in Puget Sound that’s been taken by some of Kerikov’s people, and whoever seized it will be needing a quick getaway after they scuttle her. I also need you to arrange some special forces troops, SEALs preferably, to stand by in Seattle. We’ve got just a few hours at the outside.”
Henna tried to interrupt, but Mercer cut him off before he managed more than a syllable. “Dick, no questions, just do it. I’m sure you’ve already heard what’s happened up here. Kerikov warned me that the action against the pipeline was just a distraction. Seattle is about to become a toxic waste dump if we don’t get moving. Call me here when you find out about that plane.” Mercer gave the number taped to the phone and hung up.
“Mercer, what was that all about?” Aggie sank into a chair next to him. He noticed that she had showered and changed into loose-fitting coveralls, the heavy denim cuffed at wrist and ankle and belted tightly around her narrow waist. She looked lost in the baggy outfit.
“Kerikov is dead, but his plan is still in effect. He told me that destroying the pipeline was only a feint. I have a feeling that sinking a tanker is also another piece of his sleight of hand, misdirection to cover something even worse.”
“Like what? And what does this have to do with my father?”
“I don’t know Kerikov’s true aim, nor do I know what your father’s involvement may be, but prepare yourself, because I’m sure he’s part of this in some way.”
“How can that be? He’s in the oil business. Destroying the pipeline or sinking a tanker is the last thing he would want, especially one of his own.”
“You may not believe this, but the very ship now in the control of terrorists is the same one that transported the liquid nitrogen used to freeze the Alaska Pipeline. I suspect your father’s involvement may go even deeper than that. Remember, that was your father’s oil rig we were held on last night, and I didn’t see any evidence that Kerikov had taken it by force.”
She sat silently, her gaze drawing inward as though she did not want to see what Mercer presented. Her body, already appearing fragile in the big coveralls, looked even more delicate, like porcelain.
He turned away from her again, giving her room to think, to believe what could be true. Mercer dialed Dave Saulman’s office in Miami and was told that the lawyer had gone home for the day. He was about to try Saulman’s home number when the phone shrilled.
“Yes, Dick, what have you got?”
“Southern Coasting and Lightering has a charter plane under contract and it filed a flight plan yesterday from Vancouver to Baton Rouge, a Gulfstream IV. The plane is already there, arriving last night from-”
“San Francisco,” Mercer finished for Henna.
“How the hell did you know that?”
“Because that was where Kerikov had intended sinking the tanker, but the captain, who managed to escape, sabotaged the ship. His action forced them to change their plans and target Puget Sound instead of San Francisco Bay. The plane had been on standby in California and was then moved north to Vancouver when the tanker couldn’t make it that far south.”
“What do you know about the ship itself?”
“Not much. You’ll have to get her particulars from the Coast Guard, but, Dick, this is the ship that originally transported the liquid nitrogen that I discovered aboard the
