“A minor miscalculation,” Delphi said tiredly.
“What happened to the Andrei Vyborg, Delphi? Did the Russians decide there was no honor among thieves and make a try at hijacking the Starbuck for themselves?”
“This time you are quite wrong, Major Pitt.” Delphi delicately massaged the spot where Pitt had kicked him. “The captain of the Andrei Vyborg had his suspicions aroused when your ship, the Martha Ann, tarried too long in one spot. He came to investigate. I had no choice but to eliminate him as I had the others.”
“It must have broken your heart to lose the Martha Ann,” Pitt said acidly. “She spoiled your record by being the first and only victim to have gotten away.”
“Unfortunately, our losses in capturing the ship were quite heavy,” Delphi said. “The Martha Ann was activated to return to Pearl Harbor before my men could take the necessary steps to stop her.”
“You could have blown her out of the water.”
“Too late. Captain Cinana warned us of a new crew that was already flying from the islands to take command. We only had time to remove our dead and wounded.”
“Nothing seems to go right for you, does it?” Pitt said conversationally.
“You were on the Martha Ann,” Delphi said coldly. “It was you who shot down my men and spirited away the ship’s crew in the helicopter. It has always been you who has corrupted my plans.”
“Get screwed,” Pitt said viciously. “You invited me to the party, remember. I didn’t ask to find that phony message capsule.”
Delphi bared his teeth. “Why did you come here?” he demanded. “What exactly is your mission?”
“To rescue Adrian Hunter,” Pitt snapped back.
“You lie!” Delphi shouted.
“Suit yourself.”
Delphi’s eyes widened; suddenly he knew. He hit Pitt across the face savagely, as Pitt stumbled back against the wall, tasting the blood in his mouth.
“The submarine,” Delphi said in a quiet, toneless voice. “You found the Starbuck operable, killed my men, and escaped with Farris. Now you’ve returned with a crew to reclaim it”
“As I promised,” Pitt said. “Nothing less than the truth. You’re right, Delphi. I brought a crew of Navy submariners with me to salvage the Starbuck. While we’ve been standing here discussing the sins of your criminal acts, the sub has been raised off the bottom.” Pitt studied his watch. It was eleven minutes to 0500. “I should put her about twenty-miles south by now.
“How the fortunes of war swing from side to side,” Pitt said quietly. “But it shouldn’t come as a surprise really. You couldn’t be fool enough to think you could get away with it forever. In eleven minutes, the missile cruiser Monitor is going to fire a small nuclear warhead on the center of your precious seamount. In eleven minutes we all die.”
“Nothing can crush these walls,” Delphi said calmly. “Look around you, Major. The base of this seamount is granite, a hard quartz-type granite. It’s stronger than reinforced concrete.”
Pitt shook his head. “One crack. All it takes is one crack and thousands of tons of water will come bursting through these caverns with ten times the pressure of a fire hose. Everyone will be crushed from the water’s force before they have a chance to drown.”
“You’re overly inventive,” Delphi said. “Anyway, no missile will be fired as long as you, Captain Giordino, and Miss Hunter are here.”
“Don’t bet on it. The decision came from Washington, not Admiral Hunter. You underestimate Hunter. He won’t plead for our lives against orders. Besides, he probably thinks Giordino and I are already dead. As for Adrian, no one will know until it’s all over that his daughter was accidentally killed during a naval operation to destroy the Pacific Vortex. The man has an over-abundance of guts; he won’t hesitate to sacrifice Adrian’s life to put your operation out of business.”
The calmness slowly faded from the giant’s gaunt face, leaving it frozen in uncertainty. “Words. Nothing but words. You can prove nothing,”
Pitt decided to throw out his last card. With ten minutes to go, it was now or never.
“I can give you absolute proof that what I’ve told you is gospel. Check with your radio facility. You’ll find that your transmitter on Maui is in the hands of the United States Marines. You will also discover that Admiral Hunter has been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes to negotiate your surrender.”
Delphi suddenly started laughing, malevolently, angrily.
“You fool,” he managed to gasp between uproars. “You stupid fool. Your desperate bluff has failed. You weren’t as smart as you thought. You couldn’t have known, could you? The transmitting station on Maui is no longer mine. I sold it out, lock, stock, and barrel, to the Russians six weeks ago. I haven’t been monitoring your transmissions. The Russians have. The Soviet Navy paid dearly to own a radio facility so close to the United States Naval Headquarters of the Pacific. And by monitoring the 101st Fleet’s messages, they hoped to find the Starbuck’s whereabouts. A masterful deception, don’t you agree, Major? They had no idea they were dealing with the organization that had already claimed the submarine.” He looked at Pitt vengefully. “If you’re waiting for a last minute reprieve, my dear Pitt, you’re wasting your time. There will be no communication from Admiral Hunter; there will be no offer of surrender; there will be no atomic missile for the qualified reason that I am leaving the sea-mount. Its purpose has ended. Tomorrow I will begin moving my organization to a new location. My communication equipment here has already been dismantled and without that, there can be no contact with Pearl Harbor or anyplace else for that matter.”
Pitt didn’t answer. He simply stood in place, wondering if the next ten minutes would be his last.
“And that’s only the half of it,” Delphi sneered. “You put the Starbuck twenty miles south of here, indeed. How much practice does it take to inject so much conviction into your face when you spout so many lies?” He laughed out loud. “You were right about one thing, Pitt. I could not operate the submarine with a nonexperienced crew. But I did figure out her ballast system. At this moment every air tank is empty. Yet there she still sits imbedded on the bottom. Nothing short of a major salvage operation will pull the hull free. Months of resting in the same place has built up a suction beyond what her blown ballast is capable of breaking. Yes, a pity. Your crew of submariners are as good as dead, if they’re not already dead by the hands of seven of my best men. I knew your Navy wouldn’t give up so easily, I knew they’d be back for another try at reclaiming their precious submarine, so I left my most trusted men on board-men who love to kill. Against them I wouldn’t give your engineering crew one chance in ten thousand.”
Pitt tried to leap at Delphi, to ram his fist into the teeth under the yellow eyes. But one of the guards quickly shot him, grazing him in the left shoulder. He crashed sideways into a wall where he slowly slid onto the stone floor.
Summer gave a half-retching, half-choking scream. Her eyes showed white around large gray irises; she made a move to go to Pitt, then looked hesitantly at her father. He shook his head and she shrank back in humble obeyance.
Giordino had not moved. He stared impassively at Pitt, but Pitt caught a warning millimetric nod of the head.
“You’ve won a battle,” Pitt hissed through clenched teeth. “But you haven’t won the war.”
“Wrong again, Major Pitt. I win. Up and down the line, I win. The Starbuck was heaven-sent. As soon as I can transact her, shall we say, transfer of ownership, I can close out my venture here in the Pacific and retire to less taxing enterprises. I’m sure the new owners will take great delight in the Hyperion missiles.”
“Nuclear blackmail!” Pitt spat thickly. “You’re crazy.”
“Nuclear blackmail? Come, come, Major. How common of you. That’s for fictional spy novels. I have no intention of blackmailing the superpowers over the threat of a nuclear holocaust. My motives are strictly for profit. In spite of what you might think, I have no stomach for mur
dering women and children needlessly. A man, that’s different. Killing a man is the same as killing an animal; there’s no tinge of remorse afterward.”
Pitt pushed himself upright against the wall. “No one knows that better than you.”
“No,” Delphi continued. “My plan is much more subtle; ingenious in its simplicity. I have arranged to sell the Starbuck and her weapons system to one of the Arab oil countries. Which one makes little difference. All that matters is that they are willing to pay a healthy price without haggling.”
“You’re crazy,” Pitt repeated. “Totally, hopelessly sick in the head.” But Delphi didn’t look or act crazy. Everything he said seemed logical. Any one of the rich Arab oil nations would make the ideal buyer.
“We shall know soon enough, won’t we?” He walked over to the intercom receiver and spoke. “Prepare my mini-sub. I’ll be there in five minutes.” Then he turned back to Pitt. “A personal inspection trip to the Starbuck. Ill give the survivors of your crew, if there are any, your regards.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Pitt said bitterly. “I think not,” Delphi replied contemptuously. “The submarine sits where I left her.”
“The Navy will never give the Starbuck up; they’ll destroy her first.”
“By this time tomorrow, they will have no say in the matter. An Arab salvage fleet will be here to raise the hull. These are international waters. Your Navy would never attack another nation over a derelict and be condemned by every country in the world for instigating an act of war. Their only prayer is a deal with the Arabs for the return of the sub. By then, I shall have my finder’s fee-three hundred million British pounds-deposited to a Swiss bank, and be on my way.”
“You will never leave this seamount,” Pitt said, his face twisted in cold hate. “In eight minutes you will die.”
Delphi’s eyes caught Pitt’s. “So? I am going to die, am I?” He turned as if he were ignoring an insect and moved to the door. Then he looked back. “Then I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing you died first.” He nodded to the guards. “Throw them into the sea.”
“No last consideration for the condemned?” Pitt asked.
“None whatsoever,” Delphi said with a satanic grin. “Good-bye again, Major Pitt. Thank you for a most entertaining diversion.”
The sound of his footsteps died away and there was only silence. It was five minutes before 0500.
Giordino writhed onto his elbows, his entire body leaping in a convulsive spasm as his eyes rolled upward. He fell from the couch, clutching his throat He had held his breath until his face was nearly purple; he’d even saved a wad of saliva until this moment, letting it burst from his trembling lips in a cloud of spray between labored gasps. It was a masterful performance, and the incredulous and stunned guards were taken in completely.
Pitt watched the scene as the two guards, keeping their guns aimed in Pitt’s direction, gathered about Giordino and lifted the limp arms across their shoulders. Still without speaking, they motioned for Pitt to walk ahead.
He nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of Summer.
“Summer,” he said softly. He touched her shoulder gently and gazed into her tired face. “I have so much to say and so little time to say it. Will you walk with me?”
She nodded and motioned to the guards. They simply bowed their heads in mute understanding. Summer took Pitt’s arm and led him out into a well-lit rock-hewn corridor.
“Please forgive me.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“For what? None of this was your doing. You’ve already saved my life twice. Why did you do it?”
She appeared not to hear. She looked up into Pitt’s eyes, and her face radiated a softness and beauty that seemed to make everything else in the passageway dim and fade. “I have a strange feeling when I’m in your presence,” she murmured. “It is not simply happiness or contentment but something else. I can’t quite describe it.”
“The feeling is love,” Pitt said tenderly. He bent down, wincing from the pain in his shoulder, and kissed her eyes.
The guards on either side of Giordino halted and were stunned. Giordino’s feet trailed on the floor, his head lay far across his right shoulder. He was moaning softly, his eyes seemingly shut. The guards did not notice his forearms slipping slowly up their shoulders until his hands rested loosely beside their necks. Then there was a sudden flexing of the great biceps and the guards were smashed together, bone against bone.
Giordino stood there unsteadily on his shredded feet sporting a satisfied grin. “Was that, or was that not, a work of art?”
“Every move a picture,” Pitt grinned back. He took Summer’s chin in one hand. “Will you help us get out of here?”
She raised her head slowly and looked up at him through her spilled red hair, like a frightened child. Then she reached around his waist and clung tightly to him. A wall of tears masked the gray of her eyes.
“I love you,” she said, savoring the words. “I love you.”
Pitt kissed her again, this time on the lips.
“I don’t mean to come between you two,” Giordino cut in. “But time is short.”
Summer hurried ahead, peering in both directions at the unconscious guards. “We must go before one of my father’s men finds us like this.”
“Wait!” Pitt snapped. “Where’s Adrian Hunter? We’ve got to take her with us.”
“She sleeps in the room next to mine.”
“Take us there.”
She gently touched his shoulder. “But how? You are wounded and your friend cannot walk.”
“I’ve borne his cross for years.” Pitt kneeled down and Giordino, in silent understanding, grasped him around the neck. Then Pitt hooked an arm under one of Giordino’s knees and staggered upright.
“I must look like a papoose,” Giordino grumbled.
“You sure as hell don’t feel like one.” Pitt then nodded to Summer. “Okay, lead on.”
Summer hurried ahead, peering in both directions at open corridors to see if all was clear.
They walked on, until someone approached from a side corridor; Summer waved them back. Pitt loosened his hold on Giordino and they ducked into a doorway. The footsteps of the intruder could clearly be heard along the corridor across the interchange.
For five seconds, the footsteps pounded along the cross passage. Pitt’s heart was pounding from exertion, sweat pouring down his face. One fit man against two down-and-out derelicts. Two good legs against two wobbly ones. The odds, Pitt decided, were definitely not on their side. Then the footsteps passed the interchange and faded into the other direction.
“Come, come,” Summer whispered from another doorway further down the passage. “It’s safe now.”
Pitt lifted Giordino again and struggled on.
“How’s the time?” Pitt asked.
“We aren’t going to make it,” Giordino answered grimly, “providing the missile is on schedule.”
“It’ll be on schedule,” Pitt panted. “Delphi was wrong about that. When the Navy receives no reply to the surrender offer, they’ll take it as an act of defiance and blast the seamount anyway.”
Summer took Pitt’s arm and guided him, supporting his aching, overburdened body as best she could. Pitt staggered ahead, one foot in front of the other, telling himself one more, just one more step and they would be there. Finally, as he reached the last ounce of his endurance, Summer stopped at one of the side doors. She put her ear against the panel and listened a moment. Then she quietly pushed the door ajar and stepped inside. Pitt stumbled in behind her and sank to his knees, letting Giordino slide rump first onto a lush red carpet
Summer ran up to a large bed carved into the far wall and shook the sleeping Adrian. “Wake up, Miss Hunter. Please wake upl”
Adrian’s response was a soft moan; Summer took her by the wrist and dragged her naked body from the bed.
The sleep quickly receded from Adrian’s eyes as she became aware of Pitt and Giordino on th
e floor. Making no attempt to cover her nakedness, she rushed across the room and knelt at Pitt’s side.
“Oh my God, Dirk! What happened to you? How did you get here?”
“We’ve come for you,” he said between labored breaths.
She shook her head slowly, disbelieving.
“No, no, it’s impossible. There’s no way out of this place.”
“In the next room, Summer’s bedroom, there’s a passage to the sea...”
Pitt was interrupted by a heavy rumbling explosion. The room trembled from distant shock waves. The Monitor’s missile had struck the surface of the water above the seamount. The velvet curtains swept to and fro, and several coral ornaments on a stone table clattered from the unseen force,
“No time for a recital,” Pitt snapped. “Everybody out”
Summer looked lost and confused, unable to move. “I can’t... my father.”
“Stay with us or die,” Pitt said. “This whole mountain is going to collapse any second.”
For a few seconds she didn’t move, but then another tremor shook the room, shaking her back to her senses. She ran toward her room, Adrian right behind her, as Pitt and Giordino struggled painfully to bring up the rear.
They had barely entered Summer’s exotic blue bedroom when a deafening roar and mountainous shock wave knocked them to the floor. The compression waves, rammed by a giant surge of seawater bursting through massive cracks and fissures on the top levels of the seamount, came rumbling through the passageways like an express train, crushing everything in its path.
Pitt scrambled to his feet, all pain forgotten. He slammed the corridor door closed, grabbed Adrian’s arm, and pushed her through the curtain into the exit tunnel. Then he lunged at the fallen Summer, scooped her up, and threw her sprawling in a heap on top of Adrian. At that moment, the great mirror on the ceiling fell with a shattering crash to the room below, missing Pitt by inches. A cascade of water followed the splintering glass, accompanied by a tearing, grinding rumble as the rock room tore apart