Dragon (Dirk Pitt 10)

"They're in," echoed the President. "Every one of them?"

Kern nodded. "All three."

"Any problems?" asked Jordan.

"We don't know. Before our British contact's signal was mysteriously cut off, he said they'd made it safely through the tunnel."

The President reached out and shook Jordan's hand. "Congratulations, Ray."

"A bit premature, Mr. President," said Jordan. "They still have hurdles to clear. Penetrating the Dragon Center is only the first step in the plan."

"What about my men?" demanded Sandecker testily.

"They signaled a safe landing," answered Kern. "We have no reason to believe they were injured or harmed by Suma's security guards."

"So where do we go from here?" inquired the President.

"After placing their explosives and putting the Dragon Center temporarily out of commission, our people will attempt to effect a rescue of Congresswoman Smith and Senator Diaz. If all goes according to plan, we'll have breathing space to nail Hideki Suma to the nearest cross and send in our military for a wholesale destruction operation."

The President's face took on a concerned look. "Is it possible for two men and a woman to accomplish all that in the next thirty-six hours?"

Jordan smiled tiredly. "Trust me, Mr. President, my people can walk through walls."

"And Pitt and Giordino?" Sandecker pressured Kern.

"Once our people signal they're ready, a submarine will surface and launch a Delta One team to evacuate them from the island. Pitt and Giordino will be brought out too."

"Seems to me you're taking an awful lot for granted," said Sandecker.

Kern gave the admiral a confident smile. "We've analyzed and fine-tuned every phase of the operation until we're certain it has a ninety-six-point-seven-percent chance of success."

Sandecker shot Kern a withering stare. "Better make that a ninety-nine-point-nine percentage factor."

Everyone looked at Sandecker questioningly. Then Kern said uncertainly, "I don't follow you, Admiral."

"You overlooked the capabilities of Pitt and Giordino," Sandecker replied with a sharp edge to his voice. "It wouldn't be the first time they bailed out a fancy intelligence agency carnival."

Kern looked at him strangely, then turned to Jordan for help, but it was the President who answered.

"I think what Admiral Sandecker is referring to are the several occasions Mr. Pitt has saved the government's ass. One in particular hits close to home." The Pre

sident paused for effect. "You see, it was Pitt who saved my life along with that of Congresswoman Smith four years ago in the Gulf."

"I remember." Jordan turned from the fire. "He used an old Mississippi River paddle steamer to do it."

Kern refused to back down. He felt his reputation as the nation's best intelligence planner was on the line. "Trust me, Mr. President. The escape and evacuation will go as planned without help from NUMA.

We've taken into account every possible flaw, every contingency. Nothing but an unpredictable act of God can prevent us from pulling it off."

It wasn't an act of God that prevented Mancuso, Weatherhill, and Stacy from carrying through with Kern's exacting plan. Nor were they lacking in skill and experience. They could and occasionally did open any bank vault in the world, escape from the tightest security prisons, and penetrate the KGB

headquarters in Moscow or Fidel Castro's private residence in Cuba. There wasn't a lock built or a security system created that would take them more than ten minutes to circumvent. The unpredictability of attack dogs could present a troublesome obstacle, but they were expert in a variety of methods to leave snarling hounds either dead or docile.

Unfortunately their bag of well-practiced tricks did not include escaping from prison cells with no windows or with doors that could only be opened from the floor when the stainless steel ceiling and walls were lifted by a mechanical arm. And after being stripped of all weapons, their martial arts training was useless against sentry robots who felt no pain and whose computerized reaction time was faster than humans'.

Suma and Kamatori considered them extremely dangerous and confined them in separate cells that held only a Japanese tatami mat, a narrow hole in the floor for a toilet, and a speaker in the ceiling. No lights were installed, and they were forced to sit alone and totally enclosed in pitch darkness, void of all emotion, their minds seeking a direction, no matter how small or remote, toward escape.