Odessa Sea (Dirk Pitt 24)

Ana spied Pitt jogging down the sidewalk. “He jumped out!”

“Taking the heat off us,” Giordino said.

He followed Pitt’s instructions, accelerating up to the next block and turning left. They could hear the high-revving motorcycle behind them as it speeded through traffic.

Vasko entered the traffic circle, his eyes on the old pickup turning left up ahead. Bursting past some slower cars, he swept around the circle, then braked hard at a familiar sight. It was Pitt, walking across the circle as if on an afternoon stroll, except for the jaundiced eye he leveled at Vasko. Though his presence was unnerving, his hands were empty and he posed no threat, so Vasko let off the brakes and sped forward.

Giordino pushed the truck through a second left turn before the motorcycle loomed up in his rearview mirror. As the traffic cleared, he swerved the truck back and forth across the road to prevent the rider from pulling alongside.

Vasko slowed behind the pickup, removed his pistol, and awkwardly fired a few shots at the cab with his left hand. The vehicles reached the end of the block, and Giordino turned left once more, heading for the traffic circle, now in view. As he turned, Vasko had a clear shot and pumped two rounds into the engine compartment.

Steam erupted from under the hood, while a thick trail of oil spilled from beneath. Giordino held the accelerator to the floor despite the eruption and the engine’s clatter. The spray coated the windshield, forcing Giordino to drive blindly toward the traffic circle. Distracted, he lost track of Vasko, who roared alongside the truck’s passenger side. The gunman gazed into the truck bed and saw no HEU canister. He pulled alongside Ana’s door and looked inside for the uranium while pointing his pistol at her.

Ana screamed and Giordino snapped the dying truck to the right. Vasko was already on the brakes, saving himself from being sideswiped. The truck rumbled on, its occupants again hearing the whine of the motorcycle. But, this time, the sound grew more distant.

Sailing blind into the traffic circle, Giordino poked his head out the side window just in time to see a sidewalk in front of him. As he applied its worn brakes, the truck bounded up and over the curb and skidded a

cross a patch of grass. Amid a cloud of steam, it smacked into a fountain at the base of Dionysus and ground to a halt.

Giordino turned to Ana. “You okay?” he asked over the wail of approaching sirens.

“Yeah.” Ana rubbed her shoulder, which had struck the dashboard. “Is he gone?”

“Yep.” He grinned. “Couldn’t keep up with Speedy Al.”

They climbed out of the truck into the glare of flashing lights from three police cars. Pitt stood in the center of the road and directed the lead cars after the motorcycle, while the third car screeched up alongside the battered truck. As the policemen hopped out with guns drawn, Ana and Giordino threw their hands in the air. Producing her Europol badge, she quickly defused the tension and explained their situation.

Pitt stepped over to check on his friends. “Glad you made it back in one piece.”

“Not so sure about the truck.” Giordino patted one of the smoking pickup’s fenders.

“I thought the police were going to come through here,” Pitt said. “I hoped I could organize a welcome party by the time you came back around. Guess my timing was a bit off.”

“Close enough to save our skin,” Giordino said.

Ana joined them after an animated conversation with the police officers.

“They were alerted by the Macedonia,” she said, “and the dockworkers sent them after their stolen truck.”

Pitt nodded. “Plenty of confusion to go around.”

Giordino looked at the puddle of oil next to a front wheel. “I guess we owe the port a new truck.”

“NUMA might manage to fund a replacement,” Pitt said.

“Glad to hear it,” Ana said. “I’m already down a vehicle, with my boss in Sofia.” She peered into the back of the truck and turned pale. “The HEU canister! Did he get it?”

“No.” Pitt gave a reassuring grin. “I put it someplace he wouldn’t be able to reach easily.”

Ana looked around at the shops and apartments. “Did you hide it in a house or café?”

“No, I hid it in plain sight.” Pitt winked and pointed over his shoulder.

Ana and Giordino followed his finger toward the statue and looked up.

Cradled in the outstretched arms of Dionysus, a dozen feet off the ground, was the canister of deadly uranium.

18