Hunter had class. Pitt couldn’t take that away from him. The shocked silence ended in a fraction of a moment “How soon can you and Adrian get out here?”
“At least half an hour. My car’s still parked at the Honolulu dock. Well have to take a cab.”
“Better you stay where you are. It seems these killers are everywhere. I’ll have a guard detail sent immediately.”
“Okay, we’ll sit tight.”
“One more thing. How long have you known my daughter?”
“Pure coincidence, sir. We both happened to be at the same party a few hours after I brought you the Starbuck’s capsule.” He made a serious effort to sound extremely casual. “She heard me mention your name and she introduced herself.” Pitt knew what Hunter was thinking so he second-guessed him. “I suppose during the course of the conversation I must have mentioned that I was staying at the Moana Towers. She must have remembered in her panic and came here.”
“I don’t know how Adrian screws her life up so,” he said. “She’s really a very decent girl.”
Pitt paused. How do you tell a father his daughter is a sex maniac who’s either drunk or stoned eighteen hours out of twenty-four?
“Well start for Pearl as soon as the guards get here,” was all Pitt could think of to say. Then he hung up and poured himself a shot of Scotch. It tasted like a drain cleanser.
They came ten minutes later, not to escort them to Admiral Hunter’s headquarters at Pearl Harbor, but to abduct Adrian and murder Pitt. His attention was divided between Adrian curled up on the couch dozing peacefully like a baby, and the front door. Pitt felt the skin on the back of his neck tighten till it seemed it would pull apart. He had no time to grab the phone.
They had dropped from the roof on ropes, five of them, silently entering the room from the balcony in Pitt’s bedroom, their familiar compact pistols pointed not at Pitt’s heart, but at Adrian’s uncaring, unconscious brain.
“You move; she dies,” said the man in the middle, a giant of a man with blazing golden eyes.
Pitt, in those first few seconds of shock, was conscious only of his total absence of emotion, as if his complete lack of anticipation had somehow deprived him of any facility to think. But then came the slow bitter realization that this massive man standing before him had been manipulating his waking destiny for over a week. It was the man with the deep yellow eyes who had haunted his dreams and nightmares, the man who had discovered the secret of Kanoli from the archives of the Bishop Museum so many years ago.
The huge man stepped closer. He looked too young for a man who must have been nearing his seventies. The aging process had not wrinkled his skin nor withered his muscles. He was dressed casually like a beach bather with swimming trunks and a hotel towel thrown carelessly over one shoulder, while the other men with him wore street clothes. His face was long and gaunt, and was framed by a heavy layer of unkempt silver hair.
The giant walked over and, gazing down from his hypnotic yellow eyes six feet, eight inches above the ground, he smiled with the friendliness of a barracuda.
“Dirk Pitt of the National Underwater Marine Agency.” The voice was quiet and deep, but there was nothing evil or menacing about it. “This is an honor. I have followed your exploits over the years with some interest and occasional amusement.”
“I’m flattered you found me entertaining.”
“Spoken like a brave man. I’d have expected nothing less.” The giant nodded to his men. They pinned Pitt helplessly to a chair before he could begin to realize what was happening.
“My apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Pitt. A dirty game, unpleasant as dirty games go, but essential. It is unfortunate that I had to draw you into my strategy. I had intended on utilizing your services purely as a messenger. I could not have foreseen your ultimate involvement”
“A neatly staged event,” Pitt said slowly. “How long did you follow me around, waiting for an opportunity to fox me into discovering the Starbuck’s message capsule? Why me? A ten-year-old boy could have picked up the capsule on the beach and carried it to Admiral Hunter.”
“Impact, Major. Impact and believability. You have influential friends and relatives in Washington, and your record with NUMA is quite respectable. I knew there would be doubts about the accuracy of the message so I counted on your reputation to give the discovery impact and believability.” He smiled faintly and ran his hand through the wavy mass of gray hair. “But it proved to be a most regrettable choice. As it turned out, you were the one who convinced Admiral Hunter that Commander Dupree’s message was counterfeit”
“A pity,” Pitt said sarcastically. He decided to throw out a probe. “Your informant didn’t miss much.”
“Yes, he was quite diligent at times.”
There was a long moment’s silence. Pitt turned and looked at Adrian. She was still serenely curled on the couch. Lucky her, Pitt thought; she’s sleeping through the whole ugly scene. He pushed his attention back to the giant “I don’t believe you’ve given me the courtesy of your name.”
“It does not matter. My name is of no further consequence to you.”
“If you’re going to kill me, I think it only fair to know who’s responsible.”
The huge man stood there hesitating, then he nodded heavily. “Delphi,” he said simply.
“That’s all?”
“Delphi will suffice.”
“You don’t look Greek.” Pitt’s hands were firmly tied behind the chair now; two of the men stood guard with their weapons still aimed at Adrian. The other two finished with Pitt and moved back. Except for Delphi, they all looked ordinary; medium height and weight, tanned skin, dressed in casual slacks and aloha shirts. Their faces were expressionless; they accepted Delphi’s unspoken authority mutely and unquestioningly. There was no doubt in Pitt’s mind that they would kill on command.