Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14)

“They’re getting a priority hall pass,” Rudi said. “Since NUMA helped prevent the destruction of the canal a few years ago, we’ve had a gold star status anytime we stop by.”

“Ah,” Kurt said, recalling hearing about the operation from Dirk Pitt himself. The fact that NUMA’s Director had been personally involved in thwarting the destruction paid dividends to them all.

Gowdy broke in. “NUMA will be in charge of the southern and eastern patrol areas. In three days, a salvage fleet from the Navy’s 131st Salvage Squadron will arrive from San Diego to search the western half of the target zone, while additional vessels from the Pacific Fleet will cover the western edge of the search area.”

Kurt was looking at the list of vessels. Aside from two auxiliary ships out of San Diego, they were all warships. Destroyers and frigates. “What’s with all the firepower?”

“Unintentional consequence of logistics,” Gowdy said. “This section of the Pacific is a long way from everywhere. Forty-five hundred miles from Pearl. Twenty-nine hundred miles from San Diego. These were the closest, fastest ships equipped to search for underwater targets. Additional salvage vessels are following, but they can’t keep up and are being left behind. In addition, P-3 Orion and P-8A aircraft are crisscrossing the search zone, dropping sonobuoys and other autonomous units to assist the search.”

There was some logic to that, but it suggested panic. “That’s a large fleet,” Kurt said. “Are you sure that’s the best way to do this?”

“What do you mean?”

Kurt closed the folder and leaned back in his chair. “I have to assume you want to keep this quiet. A dozen American ships and a swarm of aircraft surrounding the Galápagos Islands might be tipping your hand. The tortoises might think we’re invading.”

Gowdy nodded appreciatively on-screen.

Kurt made a suggestion. “We could always publish a story that NUMA’s doing an ecological study. Put that out in the press and no one would think twice about a few extra research vessels moving into the area. Once they’re on station, we could deploy their helicopters and survey boats and search to our hearts’ content. All without drawing any attention to ourselves.”

“Not a bad idea,” Gowdy said. “Except we think the Chinese and Russian intelligence services are already clued in. Within hours of the Nighthawk’s vanishing, we noted course changes from several vessels belonging to each country. We’re tracking them. I think you can figure out where they’re headed.”

“The Galápagos Islands,” Kurt said.

“Exactly,” Gowdy replied. “Right for the heart of our search area.”

That suggested other complications. “Do you think they’ll interfere?”

Gowdy shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to predict what our Chinese and Russian friends will do. My job is to keep them from doing it. But after that mess in Ukraine and all the problems in the South China Sea, I don’t put anything past anyone. And once you understand how badly they want what we have, you’ll come to the same conclusion. According to our studies, the Russians have fallen so far behind in technology that they’re in danger of getting lapped. The Chinese are a little better off because they have an army of engineers over there and more spies than you can shake a stick at—but they still operate without much ingenuity and are probably a full decade behind our latest designs. Add in the fact that both countries prefer to catch up by stealing what we have

rather than coming up with their own ideas and you can imagine them licking their chops.”

Kurt understood that concept quite well. Spying and stealing have always been a big part of Russian and Chinese research efforts. “There’s a reason the Russian space shuttle Buran looks exactly like the one we designed. A reason their Blackjack bomber is almost indistinguishable from the B-1.”

“Yes there is,” Gowdy said. “In a way, I can’t blame them. In their shoes, I’d do the same thing. But we’re not in their shoes and there are no circumstances under which they’re going to be allowed to get their hands on this vehicle.”

“What if they find it first?” Kurt asked, wondering if Gowdy was talking about a shooting war.

“No circumstances,” he repeated.

The words were cold and unyielding and Gowdy didn’t bat an eye as he spoke them, but that brought to mind another question.

“So why didn’t you just blow it up?” Kurt said, putting the folder away. “Prevent any chance of them finding more than a fragment of the hull?”

Gowdy looked stricken.

“I have to assume it had a self-destruct mechanism?” Kurt asked. “Why not blow it to pieces and avoid all this?”

“We tried,” Gowdy croaked. “The self-destruct command failed. A review of the telemetry data shows a complete loss of communications just before the command was initiated.”

“A game of inches,” Rudi Gunn added. “Or fractions of a second.”

Gowdy nodded.

Kurt turned his attention back to the effort. “How many ships are the Chinese and Russians sending?”

“We count nine Russian vessels, including a few warships. Twelve Chinese ships. All military. Including their newly built aircraft carrier.”

“Thirty ships, from three different countries,” Kurt noted. “All desperately looking for the same thing in a fairly restricted area. What could possibly go wrong?”