Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14)

Taking a page out of Rudi Gunn’s plan, they’d put four boats in the water and sent them to the east in formation. Traveling abreast of one another and two miles apart, the small fleet covered an eight-mile-wide swath at a single pass. Each of them trailed a pair of fish: torpedo-shaped tubes packed with the most advanced sensing equipment in the NUMA catalog, including top-of-the-line side-scan sonar emitters and a sensitive magnetic alloy detector NUMA had only recently developed.

The new detectors were far more precise than the old magnetometers that simply scanned for iron content. According to Joe, they could tell not only what alloys it was examining but where the alloy was produced and the name of the shift supervisor on duty during the mixing.

The fact was they were using the most advanced equipment in the world and covering forty square miles of ocean floor each hour. The pace had led Kurt to predict they’d locate the missing craft by lunchtime, though at half past breakfast they’d yet to find a thing.

Patient as Job, at least for now, Kurt turned to Emma. She sat in front of a high-definition screen, studying the results. As the four lifeboats moved in unison, they transmitted the data from the sonar emitters and other instruments back to the Reunion, where a special laptop computer processed the signals from all the different sensors into one image.

The resulting picture was a comprehensive, detailed view of the ocean floor, far sharper than any standard sonar scan. It was comparable to switching from an old tube TV to a modern high-definition display.

“This is incredible,” Emma said, using the controls to pan and zoom in on different sections of the image. “No wonder Steve Gowdy wanted NUMA on the job.”

Kurt lowered the binoculars down and took a seat beside her. “Something tells me our proximity and availability had more to do with it than our expertise. Had the seven sisters of the poor been out here with a fishing boat, he’d probably have hired them, too.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you definitely bring more than proximity to the table.”

Kurt accepted the compliment, sat back in the chair and watched the computer screen along with her. He knew the software would point out and highlight anything that didn’t belong on the seafloor, but he liked to keep an eye on the scan as much as he could. For one thing, computers were not infallible. For another, until they found something, there was literally nothing else to do.

He leaned back and craned his neck around to alleviate the soreness that had set in. As he did, Captain Kamphausen strode over. He, too, was sensing the tedious nature of the search. “Somehow, I thought looking for sunken treasure would be a little more exciting than this.”

“Mowing the lawn isn’t my favorite exercise either,” Kurt replied. “Never liked it as a kid and I don’t like it any better now.”

The captain laughed, moved to the radio and checked in with his crew. Meanwhile, Joe came in, juggling three cups of coffee; he placed one in front of Kurt, handed one to Emma and kept one for himself. “Find anything yet?”

“Nothing interesting,” Kurt said. “The only real excitement turned out to be an old anchor that must have fallen off a ship sometime recently. Other than that, nothing but a few outcroppings of lava rock jutting from the abyssal plain.”

“That’s to be expected,” Joe said. “The Galápagos Islands are volcanic.”

Kurt reached for the coffee cup. He tested the heat and swallowed some coffee down, wincing in the aftermath. “How much sugar did you put in there?”

“Only seven packets,” Joe said.

“Only seven?” Kurt replied.

“I figured a sugar rush would keep you on your toes.”

Kurt placed the cup into a holder. “I’ll be bouncing off the walls if I drink any more of that.”

Before Joe could reply, a soft tone and a flashing red highlight on the screen suggested they’d found something new.

“What is it?” Emma asked.

Kurt leaned over the keyboard and used the touch pad to zoom in on the highlighted area. “I’m not sure.”

He adjusted the angle and allowed the computer to extrapolate the data. They soon got a closer view of the targets. In a wide swath there were several objects and a series of small craters and gouge marks in the otherwise flat expanse of sediment.

“Looks like something rained down from above,” Joe suggested.

Kurt nodded and checked the magnetometer. “Can’t be sure what we’re looking at, but it’s definitely man-made.”

Emma was not as easily convinced. “How can you be sure? I don’t see anything but holes in the mud.”

Kurt pointed to the reading of the alloy detector. “Because those holes are hiding something built of high-strength stainless steel and magnesium.”

He pressed a button and the printer came to life, spitting out a chemical profile of the target in question. It was approximately twenty percent magnesium and fifty percent aluminum, with lower concentrations of iron and other metals.

As the boats continued to move along, the image on the screen changed slowly. Several additional targets appeared, but they were too small and too far off to be rendered in any kind of detail.

“Can we get in closer?” Emma asked.