Flood Tide

  "Well," said Monroe to Pitt, "I understand you and Ms. Lee had an interesting evening." The tone of his voice strongly suggested a double meaning.

  "Harrowing would be closer to the truth," Julia answered quickly, prim and proper in a white blouse and blue business suit with the skirt cut just above her shapely knees.

  Pitt stared evenly at Harper. "Things might have gone smoother if our hired bodyguards hadn't tried to send us to the morgue."

  "I deeply regret the incident," said Harper seriously. "But circumstances went beyond our control."

  Pitt noticed that Harper looked far from sheepish. "I'd be interested in knowing the circumstances," he came back coldly.

  "The four men Peter hired to protect you and Ms. Lee were murdered," revealed Davis of the FBI. A tall man who sat half a head above the other men around the table, he had the eyes of a Saint Bernard that had just come across a garbage can behind a barbecue-steak restaurant.

  "Oh God," murmured Julia. "All four?"

  "Because their concentration was focused on observing Mr. Perlmutter's residence they left themselves vulnerable for an assault."

  "I regret their deaths," said Pitt. "But it doesn't sound like they operated as true professionals."

  Monroe cleared his throat. "A full investigation is under way, of course. Initial analysis suggests that they were approached and murdered by Qin Shang's men, who posed as city police officers checking on reports of suspicious behavior in the neighborhood."

  "You have witnesses?"

  Davis nodded. "A neighbor across the street from Mr. Perlmutter reported seeing a patrol car and four uniformed officers entering the vans and driving them away."

  "After shooting the bodyguards with silenced weapons," Harper added.

  Pitt looked at Harper. "Can you identify the men who attacked me at the hangar?"

  Harper glanced at Davis, who turned up his palms in a dismayed gesture. "It seems their bodies disappeared on the way to the morgue."

  "How is that possible?" demanded Sandecker explosively.

  "Don't tell me," Giordino said sarcastically, "an investigation is under way."

  "That goes without saying," replied Davis. "All we know is that they went missing after being unloaded from the ambulances at the morgue. We were lucky, however, in obtaining a make on one of your assassins when a paramedic pulled off a glove so he could try for a pulse. The corpse's hand lay flat on your polished hangar floor and left a set of three fingerprints. The Russians identified the killer for us as a Pavel Gavrovich, a former high-level Defense Ministry agent and assassin. For a marine engineer with NUMA to take out a professional hit man, Mr. Pitt, a man who had killed at least twenty-two people that we know of, is a polished achievement."

  "Professional or not," said Pitt quietly, "Gavrovich made the mistake of underestimating his prey."

  "I find it incredible that Qin Shang can make fools of the entire United States government with such ease," said Sandecker acidly.

  Pitt sat back and stared down as if seeing something beneath the surface of the conference table. "He couldn't. Not unless he had inside help from the Justice Department and other agencies of the federal government."

  Wilbur Hill of the CIA spoke for the first time. He was a blond man with a mustache, the pale blue eyes set widely apart, as if he could observe movements off to his sides. "I'll likely get into trouble for saying this, but we have strong suspicions that Qin Shang's influence reaches into the White House."

  "As we speak," said Davis, "a congressional committee and Justice Department prosecutors are looking into tens of millions of dollars in fraudulent contributions by the People's Republic of China that were funneled into the President's future election campaign through Qin Shang."

  "When we met with the President," said Sandecker, "he spoke as if the Chinese were the greatest scourge on the country since the Civil War. Now you tell me his fingers are in Qin Shang's wallet."

  "There is simply no underestimating the morals of a politician," Giordino said with a sardonic twist of his lips.

  "Be that as it may," Monroe said gravely, "

  olitical ethics are not the job of INS. Our primary concern at the moment is with the huge numbers of illegal Chinese aliens that are being smuggled into the country by Qin Shang Maritime Limited before being killed or enslaved by criminal syndicates."

  "Commissioner Monroe is quite correct," said Harper. "The duty of INS is to plug the flow, not prosecute murders."

  "I can't speak for Mr. Hill and the CIA," said Davis, "but the Bureau has been heavily involved with investigating Qin Shang's domestic crimes against the American people for three years."

  "Our inquiries, on the other hand, are focused more on his overseas operations," offered CIA's Hill.

  "An uphill battle on any front," said Pitt thoughtfully. "If Shang has forces within our own government working against your efforts, it will make all your jobs that much tougher."

  "Nobody here thinks it will be a piece of cake," said Monroe formally.

  Julia jumped in. "Aren't we overlooking the fact that besides being an international body smuggler, Qin Shang is a mass murderer. I experienced his ruthlessness firsthand. There is no counting the untold numbers of innocent people and children who lie dead because of his greed. The atrocities his henchmen have committed under his direction are hideous and monstrous. He deals in crimes against humanity. We must put an end to the slaughter, and quickly."

  For a long moment no one said a word. Every man at the table knew of the horrors Julia had witnessed and suffered. Finally, Monroe broke the silence.

  "We all understand your feelings, Ms. Lee, but all of us are working under laws and regulations that must be followed. I promise you that every possible effort is being made to stop Qin Shang. As long as I am at the helm of the INS, we won't rest until his operation is destroyed and he is arrested and convicted."

  "I can safely say that goes for Mr. Hill and myself as well," added Davis.

  "Not good enough," said Pitt quietly, turning every head.

  "You doubt our resolve?" asked Monroe indignantly.

  "No, but I totally disagree with your methods."

  "Government policy dictates our actions," Davis said. "All of us must work under guidelines set by the American justice system."

  Pitt's face went dark as a midnight sky. "I saw for myself a sea of dead on the bottom of Orion Lake. I saw the poor wretched souls locked up in cells. Four men died protecting Julia and me-"

  "I know what you're driving at, Mr. Pitt," said Davis. "But we have no evidence directly linking Qin Shang to those crimes. Certainly not enough to call for an indictment."

  "The man is shrewd," said Harper. "He's shielded himself from direct involvement. Without solid proof that he is in some way responsible, we can't nail him."

  "If he's laughed in your face every step of the way," said Pitt, "what makes you think he's going to suddenly play dumb and fall into your waiting arms?"

  "No man can defy the far-reaching investigative powers of our government indefinitely," said Hill earnestly. "I promise you that he will be tried, convicted and sentenced quite soon."

  "The man is a foreign national," said Sandecker. "You arrest him anywhere in the United States and the Chinese government will raise every kind of hell with the White House and State Department. Boycotts, sanctions on trade goods, you name it. No way are they going to let you take their fair-haired boy out of circulation."

  "The way I see it, Mr. Hill," said Giordino, "you whistle up one of your CIA hit squads and eliminate Shang neatly and cleanly. Problem solved."

  "Despite what many think, the CIA does not do assassinations," said Hill testily.

  "Madness," muttered Pitt. "Suppose Shang's hit men were successful last night and killed Julia and me. You'd still be sitting here claiming you didn't have enough cold evidence to indict the man who ordered our murders."

  "Unfortunately, that's the way it is," said Monroe.

  "Qin Shang isn't about to
stop there," Julia said in frustration. "He fully intends to kill Dirk. He said as much at his party last night."

  "And I informed him that it's only fair that we play by the same rules," said Pitt. "He now thinks I've hired a team of assassins to take him out too."

  "You threatened Qin Shang to his face?" Harper asked incredulously. "How could you dare?"

  "It was easy," Pitt answered casually. "Despite his wealth and power, he still puts his pants on one leg at a time the same as me. I thought it might be nice if he looks over his shoulder like the rest of his intended victims."

  "You're joking, of course," said Monroe, scorn in his tone. "You don't really conspire to murder Shang."

  Pitt answered in a smooth voice. "Oh, but I do. As they say in the old western movies, it's either him or me, and next time I intend to shoot first."

  Monroe looked worried. He looked across the table at Hill and Davis. Then he focused on Sandecker. "Admiral, I called this meeting in the hope of enlisting Mr. Pitt in cooperating with our operation. But it seems he has become a loose cannon. Since he is under your authority, I strongly suggest you give him a leave of absence. Peter here will arrange for his protection in a safe house on the coast of Maine."

  "What about Julia?" demanded Pitt. "How do you intend to keep her safe from further harm?"

  "Ms. Lee is an agent with INS," said Harper in an official tone. "She will continue to work the case. A team of our agents will stand guard over her movements. I guarantee that she will be safe."

  Pitt stared across the table at Sandecker. "How do you call it, Admiral?"

  Sandecker pulled his red Vandyke to a point. Only Pitt and Giordino recognized the wolfish glint in his eyes. "It would appear we have little choice in the matter. A safe house might be the best place for you to lay low until Qin Shang and his criminal activities are terminated."

  Pitt said soberly, "Well, I guess I have little say in the matter. A safe house it is."

  Sandecker wasn't fooled for an instant by Pitt's easy acceptance. He knew his special projects director did not have the slightest intention of leaving the room like a lamb. "Then it's settled." Suddenly he laughed sharply.

  "May I ask what you find so funny, Admiral?" asked Monroe irritably.

  "Sorry, Mr. Monroe. But I'm relieved to assume that the INS, the FBI and CIA have no further use for NUMA."

  "That is correct. After your people bungled their underwater investigations of Qin Shang Maritime's facilities in Hong Kong and Sungari, I see it as a wasted effort to involve your agency any further."

  Monroe's cutting words produced no fury, no outrage, nor did they incite wrath. Pitt and Giordino sat there and took it in stride, expressing no emotions. Sandecker barely managed to reply to the commissioner's insulting remarks. He settled for clenching his fists out of sight under the table.

  Pitt rose to his feet, followed by Giordino. "I know when I'm not wanted." He grinned at Sandecker. "I'll wait in the car." He paused to grasp lightly one of Julia's hands, raise it to his lips and kiss it. "Have you ever lain on the beach at Mazatlan and watched the sunset over the Sea of Cortez?" he whispered in her ear. She looked self-consciously up and down at the faces around the table, her face reddening. "I've never even been to Mexico."

  "You will," he promised, "you will." Then he released her hand and leisurely strolled from the conference room, trailed by Giordino and Sandecker.

  Unlike most directors of U.S. governmental agencies, who demanded to be carried around Washington by limousine, Admiral Sandecker preferred to drive himself. After leaving the INS headquarters building, he steered the turquoise Jeep, which was one of the NUMA fleet of transportation vehicles, along the east side of the Potomac River on the Maryland shore. After dropping several miles below the city, he turned off the road and stopped the Jeep in a parking lot next to a small boat dock. Locking the car, Sandecker led the way across the floating wooden dock to a sixty-year-old double-ender whaleboat that had once served as Admiral Bull Halsey's shore boat during the war in the Pacific. After finding it in shabby condition, he had lovingly restored it to its original state. While he turned the handle that kicked the four-cylinder Buda diesel engine to life, Pitt and Giordino cast off the mooring lines. Then they climbed aboard as the little boat chugged out into the river.

  "I thought we'd hold a little private talk before we returned to the NUMA building," Sandecker said above the exhaust as he held the long tiller in the stern under one arm. "As ridiculous as it sounds, I'm leery of conversing in my own office."

  "It does tend to make one gun-shy, knowing Qin Shang can and has bought off half the city," said Pitt.

  "The guy has more tentacles than ten squids joined together at birth," added Giordino.

  "Unlike the Russians, who paid paltry sums for secret information during the cold war," said Sandecker, "Qin Shang thinks nothing of paying out millions of dollars to buy people and information."

  "Backed by the Chinese government," said Pitt, "his cash reserves are bottomless."

  Giordino sat on a bench seat facing Sandecker. "What magic have you conjured up, Admiral?"

  "Magic?"

  "I've been around you too long to know you're not the kind to sit back and take contempt and ridicule. Something is cooking in your Machiavellian mind."

  Pitt grinned. "I suspect the admiral and I are running on the same wavelength. We're not about to let NUMA be shut out of hanging Qin Shang from the nearest tree."

  Sandecker's lips curled in a taut smile as he swung the boat in a wide arc to avoid a sailboat that was tacking upriver. "I hate it when I'm second-guessed by the hired help."

  "Sungari?" asked Pitt.

  Sandecker nodded. "I've kept Rudi Gunn and the Marine Denizen on station a few miles below Qin Shang Maritime's port facility in the Atchafalaya River. I'd like you two rogues to fly down and join him. Then wait for the United States to show up."

  "Where is she now?" asked Giordino.

  "The last report put her two hundred miles off the coast of Costa Rica."

  "That should put her at the dock at Sungari in three days," remarked Pitt.

  "You were right about a crew coming on board to take her through the Panama Canal."

  "Did they remain on board?"

  Sandecker shook his head. "After transit through the Canal, they disembarked. The United States is continuing toward Louisiana under remote control."

  "A 'robo ship,' " Giordino muttered thoughtfully. "Hard to believe a ship the size of the United States is cruising the seas with no one on board."

  "The Navy has been developing the 'robo ship' concept for ten years," explained Sandecker. "Ship designers and engineers have already built an arsenal ship that is basically a floating missile pad able to launch as many as five hundred missiles by remote control from another ship, an aircraft or a facility thousands of miles away, a radical departure from present aircraft carriers that require a five-thousand-man crew. It's the newest concept from the Navy since the nuclear ballistic missile submarine. Totally contained warships and bomber aircraft are not far behind."

  "Whatever Qin Shang has in mind for the United States," said Giordino, "it's not as a missile platform. Dirk and I searched it from engine room to wheelhouse. There are no missile launchers."

  "I read your report," said Sandecker. "You also found no indication that it would be used to smuggle illegal immigrants."

  "That's true," acknowledged Pitt. "When Shang's operations are examined at first glance they appear to be conceived by a genius with a flair for sorcery, but tear away the veneer and you find a logical exercise. He has a valid function for the ship, you can bet on it."

  Sandecker pulled the throttle lever another notch and increased the speed of the whaleboat. "So we're no closer to a solution than we were two weeks ago."

  "Except for my personal theory that Shang intends to scuttle her," said Pitt.

  Sandecker looked dubious. "Why scuttle a perfectly good ocean liner after he spent millions refitting her?"


  "I don't have an answer," Pitt admitted.

  "That's what I want you to find out. Take care of your immediate affairs and sign out a NUMA jet to fly yourselves to Morgan City. I'll call Rudi and tell him you're coming."

  "Now that we're working without an endorsement from the INS and other investigative agencies, how far can we go with this thing?" Pitt asked.

  "Do whatever it takes without getting yourselves killed," responded Sandecker firmly. "I'll be responsible and answer for your actions once Monroe and Harper get wise that we haven't stumbled off into the fog and gone home like good little boys."