“But the Sargasso Sea isn’t going to stand by and do nothing.”
“They might not have a choice if the Cuban Navy shows up.”
“That’s not going to go over well with Al.”
“There’s not much he can do about it. If the military is running the show here, we’ll probably have to wait for some sort of political resolution.” He leaned back in the chair. “We might just have to sit tight and relax until they can barter us back.”
Summer shook her head. “They’re not going to be able to conceal the damage from the mercury releases.”
“That’s true. There’s something else bothering me. Did you see the shore workers dressed in hazmat suits and breathing devices?”
“They must know about the mercury in the sediments.”
“Maybe, but there was something else. Their suits had clipped to them small monitoring devices—like the pocket dosimeters used by sailors on nuclear submarines.”
Summer thought for a minute, then shook her head. “No, you may be right. I remember examining the geological makeup of a thermal vent in the East Pacific Rise. There were concentrations of uranium and some rare earth elements in the surrounding basalt.” She looked at her father. “Could it be they’re mining uranium from the thermal vents?”
Pitt nodded. “It would explain the high degree of security. And maybe why the Alta was sunk.”
“You think the Cubans created that hole we saw in the side of her hull?”
“One of the men on the diving bell said he saw an unknown submersible just before the drill ship sank.”
“But why would the Cubans be interested in mining uranium? They don’t have the technology to create a weapon.”
“I don’t know,” Pitt said.
They both fell quiet, overcome with a feeling they had stumbled onto something much more sinister than they knew.
44
Giordino shook his head in frustration. “Are we anchored to the seafloor?”
Although the lights of the Sargasso Sea glistened a short distance away, it seemed they could not draw close to the NUMA ship. The inflatable’s tiny motor was overwhelmed, first by its deflated sections, then by a breeze that had stiffened since their departure. Their voyage to the Sea Raker had taken less than fifteen minutes, but they were approaching an hour on the return.
“She’s at full throttle.” Dirk squeezed the motor’s handgrip tight for good measure. “The headwind isn’t helping.”
On the bridge of the Sargasso Sea, Captain Malcomb Smith scanned the waters between the two ships with a pair of binoculars. “There, I see them!” he said to the helmsman on graveyard shift.
“Is Summer and Mr. Pitt with them?”
“It’s too dark to tell. I’m going down to meet them at the boom crane to find out.”
The captain made his way to the port side rail, where two crewmen were waiting with a crane to retrieve the inflatable. Smith caught a glimpse of the boat as it cut around the stern and turned up the ship’s flank. It hung tight against the hull, hiding within the ship’s shadow as it approached the crane.
Smith stepped to the side rail and leaned over, anxious to see if Pitt and Summer were aboard. Instead, he saw a boat full of black-clad commandos, followed a short distance behind by a second boat. The first inflatable raced to a stop as a pair of grappling hooks attached to rope ladders flew over the ship’s rail. Two commandos sprang up the ladders and vaulted the rail.
The NUMA captain reacted with a shout, shoving the nearest intruder over the rail and back into the boat below. The second commando, the team’s leader, didn’t wait for a repeat performance. He leveled a pistol at Smith and pulled the trigger.
A hundred yards away, Dirk and Giordino heard the popping of gunfire. Although they hadn’t seen the commandos race by, they could guess what was happening.
A few yards from the ship, Dirk swung the inflatable wide around its bow. Under the glow of the ship’s lights, he could see the two assault boats tied amidships with a lone sentry guarding them.
Giordino pointed at the guard, and Dirk nodded. Turning away from the ship, he steered the inflatable in a wide loop until they could see the back of the sentry and then he turned the boat home. With their electric motor, they could approach with stealth.
The sentry was focused on the ship above when Dirk’s inflatable came out of nowhere and rammed him broadside. Giordino leaped off the bow and was on the man before he knew what happened. Lifting the guard off his feet, Giordino slammed him down. His head smacked the housing of the outboard, knocking him out cold. Giordino wasted no time, tearing the rifle from the guard’s hands and scaling the side of the ship.
By the time Dirk maneuvered his inflatable alongside the hull and climbed over the side rail, Giordino was out of sight. Moving forward, he recoiled as he tripped over the bloodied body of a crewman, lying facedown.