The Mediterranean Caper (Dirk Pitt 2)

“Before I attempt to answer that, let me ask you two questions. What equipment was attached to the cable when it parted? And at what time did you discover the break?”

“The cable was connected to the underwater decompression chamber. The divers have been working at one hundred and eighty feet and it has become necessary to begin decompression underwater for long periods of time to prevent the bends. We discovered the broken cable at about 0700 in the morning right after breakfast.” “I take it that you left the chamber in the water overnight?”

“No,” replied Gunn. “It’s our habit to lower the chamber before dawn so it’ll be in place and ready to receive the divers in case of an early morning emergency.”

“There’s your answer!” Pitt exclaimed. “Someone swam under cover of the predawn darkness to the cable and set off the Primacord. Visibility may be one. hundred feet after the sun comes up but at night it’s less than one foot.”

“And the noise from the blast?”

“Elementary my dear Gunn,” Pitt grinned. “I should guess that a small amount of Primacord detonating at approximately eighty feet of depth would sound very similar to a sonic boom from one of Brady Field’s F-105 Starfires.”

Guns looked at Pitt with respect. It was basically a sound theory, and obviously there was little he could think of to debate about His forehead creased, “Where do we go from here?”

Pitt downed the scotch and banged the glass onto Gunn’s desk. “You just stay in the briny and fish for your Teaser. I’m going back to the island and try my hand at a little hunting. There may be a tie-in with your disruptions and the attack on Brady yesterday, and the next step will be to find who’s behind this mess and what their motives are.”

Suddenly the door burst open and a man leaped into the cabin. He wore only a pair of abbreviated swim trunks and a wide belt, containing a knife and a nylon net bag. His wet, sun-bleached hair was streaked with whitish yellow and freckles dotted his nose and chest.

As he stood there, the water dripped to the carpet around his feet in spreading dark stains. “Commander Gunn,” he shouted excitedly. “I’ve seen one! I’ve actually seen a Teaser, not more than ten feet in front of my mask.”

Guns jumped to his feet. “Are you sure? Did you get a close look at him?”

“Better than that, sir, I took a picture of him.”

The freckle-nosed man stood there, grinning with every available tooth. “If only I had a spear gun, I might have got him, but I was shooting coral formations with my camera instead.”

“Quick,” snapped Gunn. “Get that film to the lab and have it developed.”

“Yes sir.” The fellow turned and dashed out of the door, spraying Pitt with a few drops of saltwater as he passed.

Guns’s face had a happy but determined look.

‘My God. To think I was about to give up, throw my tail between my legs and set a course for home. Now, dammit, I’m going to stay anchored here until I die of old age or catch a Teaser.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at Pitt. ‘Well, Major, what do you think of that?”

Pitt merely shrugged. “Personally, I prefer angling for girls.” With very little effort his mind dropped the business at hand and formed a tantalizing picture of Teri standing on the beach in her red bikini.

4

It was a few minutes past five when Pitt arrived back at his quarters on Brady Field. Within seconds of discarding his sticky clothing, he was firmly entrenched on his back in a narrow shower stall. It was a tight fit; his head was crooked into one corner, his back pressed flat on the wet tile floor, and his hairy legs and feet thrust upward on a ninety degree angle in the opposite corner.

To anyone who might have peeked, it looked like a contorted and bone torturing position, but Pitt found it thoroughly comfortable and immensely satisfying. When time allowed, he always relaxed in the shower in this manner. Sometimes he dozed off, but mostly he used the simulated rainy atmosphere and the solitude to think. At this moment his mind simmered with a multitude of perplexing questions.

He mentally juggled the facts and unknowns together, seeking a pattern and trying to concentrate on the most important problems. It was no use. His mind eluded his grasp and stubbornly chewed on the minor and inconsequential riddle of the noiseless truck by the beach.

For some inexplicable reason the riddle irritated him and he endeavored vainly to shake it, but it remained. Finally he gave in to it and closed his eyes and recreated the scene, hoping to visualize a sign or solution.

Suddenly a blurred form appeared on the other side of the shower door.

“Hello in the shower,” Giordino’s voice rumbled over the running water. “You’ve been in there nearly half an hour. You must be thoroughly water-logged by now.”

Pitt resigned himself to the interruption and reached up and turned the faucet to off.

“You better hurry,” Giordino shouted. Then it occurred to him that the water was no longer running. He lowered his voice. “Colonel Lewis is on his way over— he’ll be here any second.

Pitt sighed. Pushing his body to a sitting position, he awkwardly struggled to his feet, nearly slipping on the slick tile floor. A towel sailed over the shower door, falling in folds around his head. The mere thought of being prodded and pushed in order to impress a higher ranking officer made the hairs on his neck bristle. He glared through the fuzzy glass panel.

“Tell Colonel Lewis he can play with himself while he waits.” His voice had a nice frost to it. “I’ll come out when I damn well feel like it,” he said succinctly. “Now get the hell out of my bathroom, you bastard, before I cram a bar of soap up your anal canal.” Abruptly, Pitt felt his checks heating. He hadn’t really meant to be rude to his old friend. Immediately sorry. he felt a wave of guilt “I’m sorry, Al. My mind was elsewhere.”

“Forget it.” Without another word Giordino shrugged and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Pitt briskly dried his lean body and then shaved. After he finished, he blew the tiny black hairs out of the Cordless electric shaver and patted his face with British Sterling after shave lotion. When he stepped into the bedroom, Giordino and Colonel Lewis were waiting.