Deep Six (Dirk Pitt 7)

After a wait of eight minutes, the President appeared. The audience applause at the end of the act was heard in the brief interval between the opening and closing of the door. He was dressed in black evening wear with a blue handkerchief nattily tucked in the breast pocket of his jacket.

"I wish I could say it was good seeing you again, Admiral, but every time we meet we're up to our butts in a crisis."

"Seems that way," Sandecker answered.

The President turned to Fawcett. "What's the bad news, Dan?"

"The captain of an auto fer

ry disregarded Coast Guard orders and took his ship on its normal run from Seward on the mainland to Kodiak.

The ferry was found a few hours ago grounded on Marmot Island. All the passengers and crew were dead."

"Christ!" the President blurted. "What was the body count?"

"Three hundred and twelve."

"That tears it," said Sandecker. "All hell will break loose when the news media get the scent."

"Nothing we can do," Fawcett said helplessly. "Word is already coming over the wire services."

The President sank into a chair. He seemed a tall man on the TV screens. He carried himself like a tall man but he was only two inches over Sandecker. His hairline was recessed and graying, and his narrow face wore a set and solemn expression, a look rarely revealed to the public. He enjoyed tremendous popularity, helped immensely by a warm personality and an infectious smile that could melt the most hostile audience. His successful negotiations to merge Canada and the United States into one nation, had served to establish an image that was immune to partisan criticism.

"We can't delay another minute," he said. "The entire Gulf of Alaska has got to be quarantined and everyone within twenty miles of the coast evacuated."

"I must disagree," Sandecker said quietly.

"I'd like to hear why-"

"As far as we know the contamination has kept to open waters.

No trace has shown up on the mainland. Evacuation of the population would mean a time-consuming and massive operation. Alaskans are a tough breed, especially the fishermen who live in the region. I doubt if they'd willingly leave under any circumstances, least of all when ordered to by the federal government."

"A hardfieaded lot."

"Yes, but not stupid. The fishermen's associations have all agreed to restrict their vessels to port, and the canneries have begun burying all catches brought in during the past ten days."

"They'll need economic assistance."

"I expect so."

"What do you’ recommend?"

"The Coast Guard lacks the men and ships to patrol the entire gulf. The Navy will have to back them up."

"That," mused the President, "Presents a problem. Throwing more men and ships in there increases the threat of a higher death toll."

"Not necessarily", said Sandecker. "The crew of the Coast Guard cutter that made the first discovery of the contamination received no ill effects, because the fishing boat had drifted out of the death area."

"What about the boarding crew, the doctor? They died."

"The contamination had already covered the decks, the railings, almost anything they touched on the exterior of the vessel. In the case of the ferry, its entire center section was open to accommodate automobiles. The passengers and crew had no protection.

Modern naval ships are constructed to be buttoned up in case of radioactivity from nuclear attack. They can patrol the contaminated currents with a very small, acceptable degree of risk."

The President nodded his consent. "Okay) I'll order an assist from the Navy Department, but I'm not sold on dropping an evacuation plan. Stubborn Alaskans or not, there are still women and children to consider."

"My other suggestion, Mr. President, or request if you will, is a delay of forty-eight hours before you initiate the operation. That might give my response team time to find the source."