Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt 16)

Giordino held up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Sandecker took me off the project, and my lover took off without me."

"What happened?"

"Neither one of us was about to quit our job and move to a house in the suburbs. And, she was offered a job to decipher ancient writings in China, which would have taken two years. She didn't want to turn down the opportunity, so she flew off in the first plane to Beijing."

"I'm happy to see you can cope with rejection."

"Oh well, it beats being beaten with a whip, having your tongue nailed to a tree and thrown in the trunk of a 1951 Nash Rambler."

Pitt picked up the satchel, but made no effort to hoist the steamer trunk. "Come along, I'll show you to your suite."

"Suite? The last time I was aboard the Encounter, the cabins were the size of broom closets."

"Only the sheets have been changed to protect the innocent."

"The boat looks like a tomb," Giordino said, motioning around the deserted ship. "Where is everyone?"

"Only Chief Engineer House and I are aboard. The rest are staying in the finest hotel in the city, pampered and glamorized, giving interviews and accepting awards."

"From what I heard, you're the man of the hour."

Pitt gave a modest shrug. "Not my style."

Giordino gave him a look of genuine respect and admiration. "It figures. You always play Humble Herbert. That's what I like about you. You're the only guy I know who doesn't collect photos of himself standing next to celebrities and who hangs all his trophies and awards in his bathroom."

"Who'd see them? I rarely throw parties. Besides, who cares?"

Giordino gave a slight shake of his head. Pitt never changes, he thought. If the president of the United States wanted to present him with the nation's highest award, Pitt would send his regrets and claim he'd developed a case of typhoid.

After Giordino had unpacked and settled in, he entered Pitt's cabin, to find his friend seated at a small desk studying deck plans of the Emerald Dolphin. He set a wooden box down on top of the plans.

"Here, I brought you a present."

"Is it Christmas already?" Pitt said, laughing. He opened the box and sighed. "You're a good man, Albert. A bottle of Don Julio Reserve blue agave anejo tequila."

Giordino held up two sterling-silver cups. "Shall we test it and make sure it meets our qualifications?"

"What would the admiral say? Are you dismissing his tenth commandment about no alcohol on board a NUMA vessel?"

"If I don't get medicinal spirits in my system soon, I may well expire."

Pitt pulled off the cork top and poured the light brown liquid into the silver cups. As they held them up and clicked the metal edges, Pitt toasted, "To a successful dive on the carcass of the Emerald Dolphin."

"And a successful return to the sunlight." After savoring a swallow of the tequila, Giordino asked, "Where exactly did she go down?"

"On the west slope of the Tonga Trench."

Giordino's eyebrows lifted. "That's pretty deep."

"My best guess is that she lies in about nineteen thousand feet."

Giordino's eyes followed his brows. "What sub do you plan on using?"

"The Abyss Navigator. She's built for the job."

Giordino paused, and his face took on a dour expression. "You know, of course, that her specified depth is nineteen-five, and she has yet to be tested that deep."

"There's no better opportunity to see if her designers knew their stuff," said Pitt offhandedly.