Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt 16)

"The captain is expecting you for breakfast in the officers' dining room in half an hour. The boat's officers and an inspection team from the boatbuilder that came aboard late last night will also be present."

"I'd like Miss Egan to attend," said Pitt in an official tone.

Conrad looked uneasy but quickly recovered. "I'll ask Captain Baldwin if he'll permit the lady to sit in on the meeting."

"Since this boat wouldn't exist if it hadn't been for the genius of her father," said Giordino curtly, "I think it only proper that she be present."

"I'm sure he'll agree," Conrad said hastily, as he exited the cabin and closed the door.

Looking around the sparse and closetlike cabin, Giordino said, "I get the impression we're not welcome here."

"Welcome or not," said Pitt, "we've got to ensure the safety of the boat and its passengers." He reached into his duffel bag and handed Giordino a portable radio. "You contact me if you find anything. I'll do likewise."

"Where do we start?"

"If you wanted to send this vessel to the bottom and everyone with it, how would you go about it?"

Giordino looked thoughtful for a few moments. "If I got away with a fire on the Emerald Dolphin, I might try the same game again. But if I wanted to send her to the bottom with no fuss or muss, I'd blow out either the hull or the ballast tanks."

"My thoughts exactly. You start with that scenario and search the ship for explosives."

"What are you going to look for?"

Pitt smiled, but there was no humor behind it. "I'm going to look for the man who will light the fuse."

If Pitt had hoped the captain of the Golden Marlin was going to be a model of harmonious cooperation, he was wrong. Captain Morris Baldwin was a man who walked a straight line and never deviated. He ran a tight ship and did not intend to have outsiders come on board and disrupt his set routine. His only home was the ship he served. If he had a wife, which he did not, or a home, which he found a waste of time, he would have been an oyster without a shell.

His face was a stern mask, red, ruddy and never cheerful. He gazed through beady dark walnut eyes under heavy lids that were set and grim. Only the magnificent silver mane gave him an air of sophisticated authority. His shoulders were as broad as Giordino's, but he was a good ten inches heavier in the waist. He drummed his fingers on the table in the officers' dining room and stared steadily at Pitt, who stared back without so much as a blink.

"You say this ship is in danger?"

"I do," said Pitt, "and so does Admiral Sandecker and a number of other high officials with the FBI and CIA."

"Nonsense," he said distinctly, his knuckles whitening on his chair's armrest. "Just because one of our liners suffered a disaster doesn't mean there will be a repeat performance. This boat is as safe as they come. I've gone over every inch of her myself. Hell, I even supervised her construction." He looked around the table in irritation at Pitt, Giordino and the four-man inspection team sent by the shipbuilders. "Do what you think you have to do. But I warn all of you not to interfere with the operation of this boat during the voyage, or I swear I will put you ashore in the next port, regardless of whatever reprimand I receive from management."

Rand O'Malley, a man every bit as gruff as Baldwin, smiled sardonically. "As head of the inspection team, I can assure you, Captain, we will not get in your way. But I expect you to cooperate if we should find a problem with any of the safety systems."

"Search all you want," muttered Baldwin. "I promise that you'll find nothing that will endanger this boat."

"I suggest you wait until you receive a report from the divers who are inspecting the lower hull," said Pitt.

"I see no reason to wait," Baldwin snapped.

"There is the possibility they may find foreign objects attached to the hull."

"This is real life, Mr. Pitt," Baldwin said indifferently, "not some fantasy tale on television."

For perhaps nearly half a minute, there was silence, total silence. Then Pitt was on his feet, arms outstretched, leaning on the table with both hands, his lips parted in a brisk wintry smile, his eyes boring into Baldwin's.

Giordino knew all the signs. Here it comes. Good old Dirk, Giordino thought blissfully. Give the arrogant jerk hell.

"It appears that you have no idea of the danger your boat is facing," Pitt said solemnly. "I'm the only one at this table who witnessed the terrible havoc the fire created on the Emerald Dolphin. I saw men, women and children die by the hundreds, some burning alive in agony, others drowning before we could get to them. The sea bottom is littered with ships whose captains thought they were invincible and immune to catastrophe. The Titanic, Lusitania, Morro Castle, their captains all ignored the omens and the danger signs and paid a heavy price. When it comes, Captain Baldwin, as it surely will, to this boat and everyone on board, it will come with lightning speed before you and your crew can react. The crisis will strike with overwhelming suddenness from a quarter you never suspected. And then it will be too late. The Golden Marlin and everybody on it will have died, and their deaths will be on your head."

Pitt paused to stand up straight. "The people who are determined to destroy your ship are doubtless already on board as we speak, posing as one of your officers, your crew or perhaps passengers. Do you get the picture, Captain Baldwin? Do you?"

Strangely, Baldwin did not show anger. His expression was remote, without any show of emotion. Then he said tightly, "Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Pitt. I shall take your words under consideration." Then he came to his feet and walked toward the door. "Thank you, gentlemen. We sail in exactly thirty-seven minutes."

As soon as the room cleared, except for Pitt, Giordino and O'Malley, Giordino leaned back in his chair and irreverently crossed his feet on the conference table. " 'We sail in exactly thirty-seven minutes,' " he mimicked Baldwin. "Exacting old bird, isn't he?"