Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt 16)

"Murphy's Law can strike anywhere, anytime," Giordino said philosophically.

"I don't think the problem is serious," said Misty, vastly relieved that they were on their way to the surface and sunshine.

Pitt gave up trying to contact the Deep Encounter. He switched off the camera and external lighting systems to conserve battery power in case of an emergency. Then he relaxed in his seat and took up his crossword puzzle again. He soon finished it except for 22 across. Ring-necked Fuzzwort. Then he killed time by taking a nap.

Three hours later, the water began to turn from deep black to deep blue again as the colors of the spectrum returned. Looking through the overhead view port, they could see the sea's restless surface shimmering and sparkling above. Less than a minute later, the Abyss Navigator broke the surface. They were happy to find the swells rolling over at a mere two feet between crest and trough. The submersible, her mass still several feet below the surface, only slightly pitched and rolled.

There were still no communications with the survey ship on the surface. They could not see the ship because all but one of the view ports were below. The top port offered no horizontal vision; the sub's crew could only look straight up. They waited for the divers to come and attach the lifting cable, but after ten minutes, there was no sign of them. Something was not going according to plan.

"Still no contact," said Pitt. "No diving team. Have they all fallen asleep?"

"Maybe the ship sank," Giordino said jokingly between yawns.

"Don't say that," Misty scolded him.

Pitt grinned at her. "Not very likely. Certainly not in calm water."

"Since the waves aren't sloshing over the top, why not crack the hatch and have a look?"

"A sound proposal," said Misty. "I'm tired of breathing male body odor."

"You should have said something sooner," said Giordino cavalierly. He held up a bottle of new car odor spray and misted the submersible. "Foul air, begone."

Pitt could not help but laugh as he stood up in the narrow tunnel that traveled through the damaged buoyancy tank. He was concerned that the collision with the beam might have jammed the hatch, but after turning the wheel that snugged it down, it swung back on its hinge with little effort. He then crawled through and stood with his head and shoulders above the hatch, breathing in the fresh sea air and looking around for the survey ship and small boats with the dive recovery team. His eyes made a 360-degree sweep of the horizons.

It would be futile to describe the storm of incredulity and emotion that swept through him then. His reactions ranged from utter bewilderment to pure shock.

The seas were empty. Deep Encounter had vanished. It was as though she had never existed.

14

They came aboard at almost the same moment the Abyss Navigator reached the seabed and Pitt phoned in a status report. The crew was going about their routine duties while the scientific team was in the command center monitoring Pitt and Giordino's investigation of the Emerald Dolphin's wreck. The hijacking came so suddenly and unexpectedly, no one on Deep Encounter realized it was happening.

Burch was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, eyeing the monitors, when Delgado, who was standing next to the radar equipment, noticed a fast-moving blip on the screen. "We have a visitor coming our way out of the northeast."

"Probably a warship," said Burch, without turning from the monitors. "We're a good two miles off the commercial shipping lanes."

"She doesn't have the look of a warship," answered Delgado. "But she appears to be moving at a fairly high rate of speed, and she's coming straight at us."

Burch's eyebrows rose. Without replying to Delgado, he picked up a pair of binoculars and walked out onto the bridge wing. As he stared into the distance through the 7-by-50 lenses, a bright orange-and-white boat increased in size as it cut the water toward Deep Encounter. Any hint of apprehension faded. The approaching vessel did not seem to suggest any threat.

"What do you make of her?" asked Delgado.

"An oil company utility work boat, a big one," replied Burch. "And fast, by the look of the spray flying over her bow. Good for at least thirty knots."

"I wonder where she came from. There are no oil rigs within a thousand miles."

"I'm

more interested in why she's interested in us."

"Does she have a name or a company emblem on the hull?"

"Odd," Burch said slowly. "The name on her bow and any sign of whatever company owns her are covered over."

As if prompted, the radio operator joined them on the bridge wing. "I have the skipper of the oil company boat on the ship's phone," he said to Burch.

The captain opened a watertight box and switched on the bridge wing speaker. "This is Captain Burch of the NUMA ship Deep Encounter. Go ahead."