Pacific Vortex! (Dirk Pitt 1)

“To rescue Adrian Hunter,” Pitt snapped back.

“You lie!” Delphi shouted.

“Suit yourself.”

Delphi’s eyes widened; suddenly he knew. He hit Pitt across the face savagely, as Pitt stumbled back against the wall, tasting the blood in his mouth.

“The submarine,” Delphi said in a quiet, toneless voice. “You found the Starbuck operable, killed my men, and escaped with Farris. Now you’ve returned with a crew to reclaim it”

“As I promised,” Pitt said. “Nothing less than the truth. You’re right, Delphi. I brought a crew of Navy submariners with me to salvage the Starbuck. While we’ve been standing here discussing the sins of your criminal acts, the sub has been raised off the bottom.” Pitt studied his watch. It was eleven minutes to 0500. “I should put her about twenty-miles south by now.

“How the fortunes of war swing from side to side,” Pitt said quietly. “But it shouldn’t come as a surprise really. You couldn’t be fool enough to think you could get away with it forever. In eleven minutes, the missile cruiser Monitor is going to fire a small nuclear warhead on the center of your precious seamount. In eleven minutes we all die.”

“Nothing can crush these walls,” Delphi said calmly. “Look around you, Major. The base of this seamount is granite, a hard quartz-type granite. It’s stronger than reinforced concrete.”

Pitt shook his head. “One crack. All it takes is one crack and thousands of tons of water will come bursting through these caverns with ten times the pressure of a fire hose. Everyone will be crushed from the water’s force before they have a chance to drown.”

“You’re overly inventive,” Delphi said. “Anyway, no missile will be fired as long as you, Captain Giordino, and Miss Hunter are here.”

“Don’t bet on it. The decision came from Washington, not Admiral Hunter. You underestimate Hunter. He won’t plead for our lives against orders. Besides, he probably thinks Giordino and I are already dead. As for Adrian, no one will know until it’s all over that his daughter was accidentally killed during a naval operation to destroy the Pacific Vortex. The man has an over-abundance of guts; he won’t hesitate to sacrifice Adrian’s life to put your operation out of business.”

The calmness slowly faded from the giant’s gaunt face, leaving it frozen in uncertainty. “Words. Nothing but words. You can prove nothing,”

Pitt decided to throw out his last card. With ten minutes to go, it was now or never.

“I can give you absolute proof that what I’ve told you is gospel. Check with your radio facility. You’ll find that your transmitter on Maui is in the hands of the United States Marines. You will also discover that Admiral Hunter has been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes to negotiate your surrender.”

Delphi suddenly started laughing, malevolently, angrily.

“You fool,” he managed to gasp between uproars. “You stupid fool. Your desperate bluff has failed. You weren’t as smart as you thought. You couldn’t have known, could you? The transmitting station on Maui is no longer mine. I sold it out, lock, stock, and barrel, to the Russians six weeks ago. I haven’t been monitoring your transmissions. The Russians have. The Soviet Navy paid dearly to own a radio facility so close to the United States Naval Headquarters of the Pacific. And by monitoring the 101st Fleet’s messages, they hoped to find the Starbuck’s whereabouts. A masterful deception, don’t you agree, Major? They had no idea they were dealing with the organization that had already claimed the submarine.” He looked at Pitt vengefully. “If you’re waiting for a last minute reprieve, my dear Pitt, you’re wasting your time. There will be no communication from Admiral Hunter; there will be no offer of surrender; there will be no atomic missile for the qualified reason that I am leaving the sea-mount. Its purpose has ended. Tomorrow I will begin moving my organization to a new location. My communication equipment here has already been dismantled and without that, there can be no contact with Pearl Harbor or anyplace else for that matter.”

Pitt didn’t answer. He simply stood in place, wondering if the next ten minutes would be his last.

“And that’s only the half of it,” Delphi sneered. “You put the Starbuck twenty miles south of here, indeed. How much practice does it take to inject so much conviction into your face when you spout so many lies?” He laughed out loud. “You were right about one thing, Pitt. I could not operate the submarine with a nonexperienced crew. But I did figure out her ballast system. At this moment every air tank is empty. Yet there she still sits imbedded on the bottom. Nothing short of a major salvage operation will pull the hull free. Months of resting in the same place has built up a suction beyond what her blown ballast is capable of breaking. Yes, a pity. Your crew of submariners are as good as dead, if they’re not already dead by the hands of seven of my best men. I knew your Navy wouldn’t give up so easily, I knew they’d be back for another try at reclaiming their precious submarine, so I left my most trusted men on board-men who love to kill. Against them I wouldn’t give your engineering crew one chance in ten thousand.”

Pitt tried to leap at Delphi, to ram his fist into the teeth under the yellow eyes. But one of the guards quickly shot him, grazing him in the left shoulder. He crashed sideways into a wall where he slowly slid onto the stone floor.

Summer gave a half-retching, half-choking scream. Her eyes showed white around large gray irises; she made a move to go to Pitt, then looked hesitantly at her father. He shook his head and she shrank back in humble obeyance.

Giordino had not moved. He stared impassively at Pitt, but Pitt caught a warning millimetric nod of the head.

“You’ve won a battle,” Pitt hissed through clenched teeth. “But you haven’t won the war.”

“Wrong again, Major Pitt. I win. Up and down the line, I win. The Starbuck was heaven-sent. As soon as I can transact her, shall we say, transfer of ownership, I can close out my venture here in the Pacific and retire to less taxing enterprises. I’m sure the new owners will take great delight in the Hyperion missiles.”

“Nuclear blackmail!” Pitt spat thickly. “You’re crazy.”

“Nuclear blackmail? Come, come, Major. How common of you. That’s for fictional spy novels. I have no intention of blackmailing the superpowers over the threat of a nuclear holocaust. My motives are strictly for profit. In spite of what you might think, I have no stomach for mur

dering women and children needlessly. A man, that’s different. Killing a man is the same as killing an animal; there’s no tinge of remorse afterward.”

Pitt pushed himself upright against the wall. “No one knows that better than you.”

“No,” Delphi continued. “My plan is much more subtle; ingenious in its simplicity. I have arranged to sell the Starbuck and her weapons system to one of the Arab oil countries. Which one makes little difference. All that matters is that they are willing to pay a healthy price without haggling.”

“You’re crazy,” Pitt repeated. “Totally, hopelessly sick in the head.” But Delphi didn’t look or act crazy. Everything he said seemed logical. Any one of the rich Arab oil nations would make the ideal buyer.

“We shall know soon enough, won’t we?” He walked over to the intercom receiver and spoke. “Prepare my mini-sub. I’ll be there in five minutes.” Then he turned back to Pitt. “A personal inspection trip to the Starbuck. Ill give the survivors of your crew, if there are any, your regards.”