Flood Tide (Dirk Pitt 14)

After passing Venice, the last town on the west bank that was accessible by highway, the levees were lined with thousands of people who had turned out to see the grand spectacle of the great liner's passage up the river. Students had been temporarily let out of schools to witness an event that had never before taken place and would not again. Hundreds of small private boats trailed after the ship, tooting and honking their horns, and were kept a safe distance away from her churning wake by two escorting Coast Guard boats that had appeared after the United States had emerged from the Head of Passes.

They all stood, many in awed silence, others waving and cheering, as the United States negotiated the sharp bends of the river, her bow brushing the edge of the channel on the west bank, her stern and slowly turning propellers thrashing past the east bank that protruded around the bend. This was late April going on May, and the spring runoff far to the north that came flowing down from the Mississippi's tributaries had raised the water level above the base of the levees. Hung-chang was thankful for extra water between the keel and river bottom. It gave him an extra margin for success.

He readjusted the buckle on the strap of his binoculars, squared the cap on his head, then stepped out onto the bridge wing. He ignored the compass mounted on a stand that responded to the ship's every change of direction as it moved over the curling river. He was glad the waterway had been emptied of traffic in anticipation of the big ship's passage. It would be a different story after New Orleans, but he would deal with that problem when the time came.

He looked up at the sky and was relieved to see the weather had cooperated. The day was warm with only a whisper of a breeze. A twenry-mile-an-hour wind against the gigantic hull of the ship could have caused disaster by pushing her broadside into the bank during navigation of a sharp river bend. The azure-blue cloudless sky and the sunlight reflected off the water surface, giving it a green, almost clean, look. Because he was ascending the river the green channel buoys swayed aimlessly on his left while the red navigation buoys rolled to his right.

He waved back at the people standing on the levee amid a sea of parked cars and pickup trucks. From his height nine stories above the water he looked down on the horde and saw the flat marsh and farmlands beyond. Li Hung-chang felt like a spectator watching someone else play his role in a drama.

He began to speculate on the reception waiting along the waterfront in New Orleans, and he smiled to himself. Millions of Americans would remember this day, he mused, but not for the reasons they had expected.

40

RUDI GUNN WAS WAITING for Pitt and Giordino when they returned the shantyboat to Doug Wheeler's dock late the same afternoon. His eyes were red from lack of sleep caused by sitting up most of the night waiting for Pitt's sporadic reports. He wore khaki shorts and a white T-shirt with the words ST. MARY PARISH, GOOD OL' FASHION SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY printed across the back.

After replacing the fuel they had used and loading their equipment in the Marine Denizen's launch, Pitt and Giordino bade a fond farewell to Romberg, who raised his head from the deck and gave them a lethargic goodbye "Woof," before promptly falling back to sleep.

As they cleared the dock, Giordino stood beside Gunn at the helm. "I'd say we could all use some dinner and a good night's sleep."

"I'll second the motion," Pitt yawned.

"All you get is a thermos of coffee with chicory," said Gunn. "The admiral flew into town along with Peter Harper of the Immigration Service. Your presence has been requested on board the Coast Guard cutter Weehawken."

"Last I saw of her," said Pitt, "she was anchored just above Sun-gari."

"She's now tied up at the Coast Guard dock near Morgan City," Gunn enlightened him.

"No dinner?" asked Giordino sadly.

"No time," Gunn replied. "Maybe if you act like good little boys, you can get a fast bite from the Weehawken's galley."

"I promise to be good," Giordino said with a wily shift to his eyes. Pitt and Gunn exchanged disbelieving looks. "Never happen," Gunn sighed.

"Not in our lifetime," Pitt agreed.

Peter Harper, Admiral Sandecker, Captain Lewis and Julia Lee were waiting for them in the wardroom of the Weehawken when they climbed on board. Also present were Major General Frank Montaigne of the Army Corps of Engineers and Frank Stewart, captain of the Marine Denizen. Lewis cordially asked if there was anything he could get them. Before Giordino could open his mouth, Gunn said, "We had coffee on the run from Wheeler's dock, thank you."

Pitt shook hands with Sandecker and Harper before giving Julia a light kiss on the cheek. "How long has it been since we've seen each other?"

"All of two hours."

"Seems like an eternity," he said with his devilish grin.

"Stop," she said, pushing him away. "Not here."

"I suggest we get on with it," said Sandecker restlessly. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Not the least of which is Duncan Monroe's humble apology that he asked me to convey," Harper said, making a show of penitence by pumping Pitt's and Giordino's hands. "I also wish to express my personal debt of gratitude to NUMA and to you gentlemen for ignoring our demands to disassociate yourselves from the investigation. Without your timely intervention at Bartholomeaux, our assault team would have found nothing but a dead INS agent and an empty sugar mill. The only unfortunate aspect was the killing of Ki Wong."

"I suppose in hindsight I should have kneecapped him," Giordino said without remorse. "But he was not a nice man."

"I fully realize your act was justified," admitted Harper, "but with Ki Wong dead, we lost a direct link to Qin Shang."

"Was he that essential to your case?" Captain Lewis queried Harper. "It seems to me you have more than enough proof to hang Qin Shang from the nearest tree. He was caught red-handed smuggling nearly four hundred illegal immigrants into Sungari and then up Bayou Teche to Bartholomeaux. All on vessels owned by his shipping company and by men on his payroll. What more could you want?"

"Proving the orders came directly from Qin Shang."

Sandecker seemed as puzzled as Lewis. "Surely you have all the evidence you need to indict him now."