Devil's Gate (NUMA Files 9)

“Canadian?” Hiram said.

“Or German. Winner picks.”

“Okay,” Yaeger said. “I’ll take that action.”

His portion of the screen went blank, and Dirk turned to Gamay. “I’m not going to ask how you’re holding up,” he said. “Just want you to know I’m proud of you.”

She nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “And thank you for ordering me to study the samples. It helped me… helped me get back to being me.”

Pitt was confused. “I never gave any order like that,” he said.

“But the doctor…” she began. A smile creased her face for the first time.

“Doctor’s orders,” Pitt guessed.

“Apparently, part of my treatment,” she said.

“Hobson’s a crafty old guy,” Pitt said, thinking warmly of the doctor. “And he’s smart. If someone out there has developed a weapon like this, our best defense may be to find it and neutralize it before it gets used again. Thanks to you two, we have a chance.”

“What help can we expect?” she asked.

“I’ve already talked to the admiral,” Pitt said. “The Vice President, I mean. He’s going to take what we’ve found directly to the President and Joint Chiefs. I’m sure they’re going to be pretty damn interested, but as for getting involved… We’ve got to find them som

ething tangible to get involved in. Right now, this is just a ghost that came to visit and left a mark. We have to put a body with that ghost, something they can deal with. You’ve given us the first step.”

The rebellious strand of hair fell down across her face again, and Gamay dutifully tucked it back behind her ear. “Dr. Smith and I theorized that the crew might have been killed because of what they saw. In other words, having survived the electromagnetic burst, they had to be killed, and the ship scuttled, to keep things quiet.”

“It’s reasonable,” Pitt said. “Dead men tell no tales.”

“I know,” she said. “But I was thinking there has to be something more. I mean, they fired torpedoes at us. We have to assume they could have done the same to the freighter when she was afloat.”

Pitt considered this. Sometimes you learned more by what wasn’t done than what was. “Would have been easier than boarding the ship.”

“And quicker,” she said.

“Yeah,” Pitt said, “that it would. So why didn’t they?”

“And why hit this particular ship in the first place?”

Another good question. He guessed there could be only one reason. One answer to both.

“There was something they wanted on that ship,” he said. “Something they had to get before it went down. And whatever that something was, whoever was behind this didn’t want the world to know it had gone missing.”

On the screen, Gamay nodded. “That’s the conclusion I reached too.”

It explained a few things. The CEO of Shokara was an old friend of Dirk’s — more of an old acquaintance, actually, in the sense that Dirk had once saved his life — but for a man who’d often insisted he’d do anything Dirk or NUMA ever needed, Haruto Takagawa had suddenly become very hard to reach.

Shortly after the freighter went down, Pitt had left a message for the man. But, so far, he hadn’t received a call back. Perhaps that was understandable, considering the circumstances, but it was at least a yellow flag.

A few days later, just to cover all the bases, Pitt had sent a pair of NUMA’s eager young associates to Takagawa’s New York offices to get the type of information the Coast Guard would have required if the ship had gone down in U.S. waters. Primarily, the ship’s manifest.

The two young men had been stymied in Takagawa’s lobby, made to wait for hours and then all but tossed out on their ears. It felt like a slap in the face to Pitt, enough to get his considerable anger up and running. So far, he’d been too busy to press the issue. But now it seemed paramount.

“We need to know what the Kinjara Maru was carrying,” Gamay said.

Pitt nodded. He knew what he had to do. He knew there was only one way to find out the truth.

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