"How does that concern us?"
"Their project director is probably whistling up a helicopter this minute," Shaw replied. "Before nightfall the tape will be in Washington. And by this time tomorrow they'll probably have identification."
"On you maybe," Gly said grinning. "My partner and I kept our face masks on. Remember?"
"The damage has been done. The Americans will know we're not local divers looting a wreck. They'll be aware of who and what they're up against and will take every precaution."
Gly shrugged and began unzipping his diving suit. "If that mechanical fish hadn't interrupted us, we could have laid the charges, blown the hulk and left them precious little to salvage."
"Bad luck on our part," said Shaw. "How far did you get?"
"We'd barely started when we saw lights coming from over the stern."
"Where are the explosives?"
"Still on the forecastle of the wreck, where we stored them."
"How many pounds?"
Gly thought a moment. "Harris and I made six trips each, towing two hundred-pound sealed containers."
"Twenty-four hundred pounds," Shaw totaled. He turned to Doc Coli. "What if we detonated?"
"Right now?"
"Right now."
"Weight for weight, Trisynol is three times as powerful as TNT." Coli paused to stare across the water at the Ocean Venturer. "The pressure waves from its explosion would break the back of the NUMA ship."
"And the Empress of Ireland?"
"Demolish the bow section and smash in the forepart of the superstructure. At that point the main force would be Absorbed. Further aft, a few bulkheads might buckle, a few decks cave in."
"But the central section of the wreck would remain intact."
"Quite correct," nodded Coli. "Your only accomplishment would be the mass death of innocent men."
"Little sense in pursuing that quarter," Shaw said thoughtfully.
"I'd certainly want no part in it."
"So. Where does that leave us?" asked Gly.
"For the moment, we tread softly," replied Shaw. "Sit back and observe, also find us another boat. The Americans are no doubt on to this one."
A look of contempt cross
ed Gly's face. "Is that the best you can come up with?"
"I'm satisfied. Unless you've got other ideas."
"I say blow the bastards to bits and end it now," Gly said coldly. "If you lack the stomach, old man, I'll do it."
"Enough!" Shaw snapped, his eyes fixed on Gly. "We're not at war with the Americans, and there is nothing in my instructions that condones murder. Only carnal idiots kill unnecessarily or wantonly. As for you, Inspector Gly, no more debates. You'll do as you're told."
Gly shrugged smugly in acquiescence and said nothing. He didn't have to waste words. What Shaw didn't know, what no one knew, was that he had inserted a radio detonator in one of the Trisynol containers.
With the press of a button he could set off the explosives anytime the mood struck him.