Fire Ice (NUMA Files 3)

The bluff worked. The attackers saw the big black ship bearing down on them behind a cloud of purple smoke, heard the twin projectiles whistle though the air and saw the geysers of water. The boats sprinted out of the way like startled jackrabbits, then headed at full throttle toward the mouth of the harbor where they disappeared in the darkness.

The cannons roared again, with blanks this time, as the ship gave chase.

Even as the echoes faded, a mighty roar went up from the crew.

"Party's over," Austin said. Slade was grinning from ear to ear. The comment that followed might not have been in the same class of immortal words as "Don't give up the ship" or "Damn the torpedoes!"… but as Austin watched the departing wakes of the attack boats, he couldn't argue with the young sailor when he said, "Old lronsides still knows how to kick ass!"

33

WASHINGTON, D.C.

SANDECKER GLANCED AROUND the Oval Office and reflected on the life-and-death decisions that had been made in the famous room. It was hard to believe that the political currents that swirled around Washington had their center within these quiet walls. On his last visit to the White House, he'd been treated as a pariah and warned to butt out of national security matters, but after NUMA had rescued the NR-1's captain and crew and saved the White House major embarrassment, Sandecker had become the proverbial eight-hundred-pound gorilla. He lost no time throwing his weight around.

The White House's formidable appointments secretary hadn't hesitated when he called and asked to meet with the president on an urgent matter. The secretary bumped an ambassador and a congressional delegation from the president's busy schedule, and she never blinked when Sandecker asked that only the president and vice president attend.

Sandecker had politely refused the offer of a White House limousine and made the trip in a Jeep Cherokee from the NUMA motor pool. The receptionist had ushered the admir

al, Rudi Gunn and Austin into the Oval Office and saw to it that a steward served them coffee on White House china.

As they waited, Sandecker turned to Austin. "I've been meaning to ask you, Kurt. How did it feel to commandeer a national monument?"

"Quite the rush, Admiral. Unfortunately, with only two cannon in the bow, I couldn't yell, 'Give 'em a broadside!' "

"From what I've heard, you and the Constitution's crew acquitted yourselves with undeniable valor. Old lronsides lived up to her glorious name."

Gunn said with a twinkle in his eye, "The scuttlebutt among the top navy brass has it that Old lronsides is being commissioned as part of the Seventh Fleet. After she's patched up, of course."

"I understand that the navy plans to retire an aircraft carrier in her favor," Austin said, with a poker face. "The Pentagon sees great cost-cutting opportunities in the use of sail and belaying pins."

"Cost cutting would be a new one for the Pentagon," Sandecker mused. "What happened to the men who attacked you?"

"The Coast Guard and police scoured the harbor. They found three boats scuttled in the marshes on a harbor island, the hulls shot full of holes."

"I understand there were some injuries."

"The tugboat crewmen were wounded, but they had the presence of mind to play dead."

"What of the Russian, the man you call Ivan?"

"He was only grazed by the bullet and is doing fine."

"What did Razov have to say about these pirates?"

"Nothing. He cut his party short, kicked his guests off the yacht and sailed out of the harbor before anyone could ask him questions."

"This Razov is a shifty character," Sandecker said with a j knitted brow. "We've got our work cut out for us. We've been keeping an eye on him since he left Boston?"

Gunn nodded. "Satellite surveillance had him heading at a leisurely pace along the Maine coast."

"Just a gentleman yachtsman out for a cruise," Sandecker said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I've asked the satellite department to run the latest results over here for this meeting," Gunn said.

The door opened, and a Secret Service man stepped inside. "The boss is on his way," he said.

A bustle of activity could be heard in the hall and President Wallace came through the door, wearing his trademark smile, his outstretched hand cocked for action. The towering figure of Vice President Sid Sparkman was a step behind. After a round of handshakes, the president settled behind his desk, and as usual the vice president drew up a chair close at his right elbow, emphasizing his place in the executive hierarchy.

"Glad you asked for this meeting," the president said. "Gives me the chance to thank you personally for saving the folks from the NR-1."