"Empty?" Austin raced through the possibilities in his mind. "They must have done the housecleaning when the ships were in the Mississippi boatyard."
"We should have figured that something funny was going on. The ships are just sitting there, tied up to the dock. No preparations. Nothing to indicate that they're going to sea anytime soon. Only one ship has left the dock since we've been here, and that was an ocean liner."
Austin was deep in thought and only half listening to Trout. "What's that you said about a liner?"
"The Polar Adventure. It was tied up next to the transmitter ships, but it left earlier today. Is it important?"
"Maybe. Joe says a liner left the shipyard in Mississippi about the same time as the transmitters."
"Wow! Think this is the same vessel we saw?"
"It's possible," Austin said. "They move the transmitters into the liner. Then, while we're watching the decoys, the liner sneaks away with the payload in broad daylight."
"So much for the navy's plans to tail the ships with a submarine."
"Classic 'bait and switch' operation. Damned clever."
"How long since the liner left port?"
"It was gone this morning."
Austin did a quick mental computation. "They could be hundreds of miles out to sea by now. That's a jackrabbit start."
"What do you want us to do?"
"Stay put for now, and keep an eye on the ships in case their owners have another card up their sleeve."
Austin clicked off. He was angry with himself for not anticipating that anyone intelligent enough to carry out a polar reversal would do everything possible to throw pursuers off their trail. He turned his attention back to the chart. It was a big ocean. With every passing minute, the li
ner came closer to losing itself in hundreds of square miles of open sea. He thought about calling the Pentagon with the news from Trout, but he was in no mood to waste his breath debating the assistant defense secretary.
Sandecker might be more successful, but even he would have to deal with the Pentagon bureaucracy, and there was simply no time. Screw 'em, Austin thought. If the world was going to end, he would rather have the responsibility on his shoulders than those of an anonymous government functionary with an attitude. This was going to be a NUMA deal, through and through.
Ten minutes later, he was in a NUMA vehicle driving through the quiet streets of Washington. He took the highway to Washington National Airport, where the guard at the gate of a restricted area checked his ID and directed Austin to a hanger in a far corner of the airfield. He could see the glow of lights, and easily made his way to where a Boeing 747 jumbo jet was parked on the tarmac.
Floodlights set up on stands ringed the huge plane and turned night into day. The plane was surrounded by drums of electrical cable and stacks of aluminum and steel. Workers crawled in and out of the plane like ants on a candy bar.
Zavala sat under the lofty tail of the plane at a makeshift table assembled from a sheet of plywood and a couple of sawhorses. He was going over blueprints with a man dressed in coveralls. He excused himself when he saw Austin and came over to greet him.
"It's not as bad as it looks," he said. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the noise.
Austin glanced around and was relieved to see a semblance of order in what at first seemed to be total chaos.
"How long before the bird is ready to fly?" Austin said.
"We've had a few glitches, but all the stuff is here. It's mostly a matter of fitting everything in and connecting it. Seventy-two hours should do it."
"How about tomorrow morning?" Austin said.
Zavala smiled. "You should get a slot on Comedy Central."
"Unfortunately, there's nothing comic about the news I just received from Paul." He told Zavala about the missing liner. "Could you assemble the rest of the setup while we're in the air?"
Zavala winced. "Possible, but not advisable. It would be like trying to stuff a sausage on the run."
"What if there's no choice but to try?"
Zavala looked at the hectic activity and scratched his head. "I never could resist a juicy sausage. C'mon while I break the bad news to my right-hand man."