“I still don’t know what you expect from me.”
“We’ve got to hit von Till below the belt, way below the belt. This is an underwater show. I need every able-bodied man you can spare with scuba gear and weapons that can be carried in water; diving knifes, spear guns, anything.”
“What guarantee can you give me that no one will get hurt?”
“Absolutely none,” Pitt said quietly.
Gunn stared at Pitt for a full ten seconds, his face expressionless. “You realize the seriousness of what you’re asking me? Most of the men aboard this ship are scientists, not commandos. They’re tigers with a salinometer, a nansen bottle or a microscope, but their skill at knifing another man in the guts or shooting a barbed spear into a navel leaves much to be desired.”
“What about the crew?’
“All good men to have on your side in a bar room brawl, but like most professional seamen, they have an unhealthy dislike for any activity below the surface. They can’t, or rather won’t, put on a face mask and dive.” Gunn shook his head. “I’m sorry Dirk, you’re asking too much—”
“Come off it,” Pitt snapped rudely. “This isn’t the Little Big Horn and I’m not asking you to send the Seventh Cavalry against Sitting Bull and the Sioux nation. Look, not fifty miles from here a Minerva Lines
freighter is churning across the Aegean with a cargo that is as lethal as any nuclear bomb. If that amount of heroin were dumped on the market in the States, our grandchildren would still be suffering from the cultural shockwaves. It’s a nightmarish thought.”
Pitt paused, letting his words sink in. He lit a cigarette and then continued.
“The Bureau of Narcotics and the Customs Department will be waiting. They’ve set a trap. If, and that’s a big if, all goes well, the heroin and the smugglers, plus half the illegal drug sellers in the States, will be neatly scooped up and salted away behind bars.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Gunn pressed. “Where do the divers fit into the picture?”
“Let’s just say I have a nagging doubt. Von Till hasn’t come within a nautical mile of being caught with the goods, so to speak, for decades. Legally, our government agents can’t board the cargo Ship until it touches the United States’ continental shelf, three weeks away. By then von Till might sense that INTERPOL is behaving overly cagey. Rather than cooperate with the good guys and sail into the trap, he’d have to reroute the ship at the last minute or else dump the heroin in the Atlantic. That leaves the narcotic agents and the customs inspectors standing around with nothing to do but play with themselves. The only sure way, the safe way, is to stop the ship now, before it leaves the Mediterranean.”
“You’re the man who said it—legally it can’t be done.”
“There is one way,” Pitt drew on the cigarette, then slowly let the smoke trickle through his nose.
“Prove a solid case against von Till and Minerva Lines before morning.”
Gunn shook his head again. “Even then, boarding a ship in international waters, particularly a ship that is registered to a friendly nation, can lead to political repercussions. I doubt if any country would want to touch it”
“There is one opportunity,” Pitt said. “The ship stops at Marseilles for fuel. INTERPOL would have to work fast If they received the necessary evidence and rushed through the legal paperwork they could seize the ship in port.”
Gunn leaned against the doorway and gave Pitt a penetrating stare. “The catch is that you want to risk the lives of the people under my command.”
“It has to be,” Pitt said quietly.”
“I think you’re hedging,” Gunn said slowly. “You’re up to your ears in stormy waters. I don’t like any of it I’m responsible to NUMA for this ship and its personnel. All that interests me is the safe completion of this expedition. Why us? I don’t see why INTERPOL or the local police can’t conduct their own search operation. Finding divers on the mainland is no problem.”
This was getting too damn awkward, Pitt thought. At this stage of the game he couldn’t let on that Zacynthus was very much against even the slightest harassment of von Till. Pitt had known Gunn for a little over a year, and in that time they had become good friends. The commander was a smart customer. The next scene would have to be played cool, very cool indeed. Pitt gazed suspiciously at the busy radio operator for a moment, then turned back to Gunn.
“Call it fate, coincidence or any other term you wish to choose, that put the First Attempt at Thasos at the exact moment to expose a beautifully planned criminal conspiracy. Von Till's entire smuggling operation depends upon the use of a submarine, maybe more than one, we don’t know yet The heroin is the biggest job he’s ever undertaken. It’s damn hard for the mind to conceive, but he could easily net over two hundred million dollars on this one shipment. He planned well, nothing could stand in his way. Then one day he looks out of his window and there sits an oceanographic research ship, not over two miles away. Learning that you were scouting the water for a legendary fish he began to run scared. There was a good chance that one of your divers might discover his base of operation, and what’s most important, his method of smuggling. He was desperate. He couldn’t blow you out of the water. The last thing he wanted was a full scale investigation into the loss of this ship. There was no hope of instigating anti-American riots or violence. The people who live on the island are fun loving farmers and fishermen. They couldn’t care less about staging a demonstration against a scientific expedition. If anything, they welcomed you. The local merchants aren’t about to turn down free spending researchers. Von Till gambled on a long shot. He staged that attack on Brady Field, hoping Colonel Lewis would order you out of the area as a safety precaution. When this failed he threw caution to the winds and came directly at the First Attempt”
“I don’t know,” Gunu said hesitantly. “You make it sound logical. Except for the submarines. No civilian can go to his nearest yacht broker and buy a submarine.”
“The only way von Till could lay his hands on a sub without attracting attention would be to raise one that was sunk in shallow water during time of war.”
“You’re beginning to sound interesting,” Gunn said quietly. He was tuned in on Pitt’s channel now. He had the shrewd look of an old prospector who just discovered a map to a hidden gold mine.
Pitt went on. “This is a job for professional underwater divers. By the time INTERPOL could put together a team of their own it would be too late.” The last was only a half-truth, but it served Pitt admirably to drive home the next point. “The time is now. And other than Cousteau you’ve got the finest divers and equipment in the Mediterranean. I’m not going to give you any crap about being the ‘last hope of mankind' or that ‘It’s better to sacrifice a few to save millions.’ All I’m asking you for is a few volunteers to help me explore the cliffs below von Till’s villa. We may strike out and find nothing. On the other hand we may uncover enough evidence to impound the ship and the heroin and put von Till away for good. Hit or miss, we’ve got to try.”
Gunn said nothing. His expression Indicated deep thought and concentration. Pitt looked at him, considering, and then threw in the book.
“It would be interesting if we could find out what happened to the yellow Albatros.”
Gunn looked at Pitt across the cramped radio room and thoughtfully jangled some loose change in his pocket. A more hard-headed and determined man he had never seen. Gunn remembered that he had trusted Pitt’s judgment on that Delphi Ea affair in Hawaii last year, and he hadn’t been let down. If Pitt said he was going to kill every shark in the sea, Gunn mused, he would probably damn near do it. He studied the damp and, by this time, pealing bandages on Pitt’s body, Jangled the change in his pocket again, wondered what he would be thinking about this time tomorrow.