Iceberg (Dirk Pitt 3)

"You're confused." Pitt shook his head in mock sadness. "I can't say I find it too comforting knowing our nation's security rests in your hands."

Lillie smiled faintly. "It is you who has provided the confusion, Major. It is you who has broken the chain."

"What chain?" Pitt said. "Or am I supposed to guess?"

Lillie hesitated a moment before answering. Finally he looked directly at Pitt.

"During the last eighteen months a chain of strange circumstances has been forged by country by country, from the southernmost tip of Chile to the northern border of Guatemala. Secretly, through a complex series of clandestine maneuvers, the great mining companies of South America have slowly merged into one giant syndicate. Outwardly it's business as usual, but behind the locked and barred doors of their respective administrations, the policies governing their operations come directly from a single unknown voice."

59

Pitt shook his head. "Not possible. I can name at least five Countries that have nationalized their mining cartels. There's no way they could tie in with a private company beyond their borders."

"None the less, it's a documented fact. Where the mines have been nationalized, the management is controlled by an outside organization. The Parnagus-janios high-grade iron ore pits of Brazil, the Domingo bauxite mines of the Dominican Republic, the government silver mines of Honduras, they all take their directives from the-same person or persons."

"How did you gather your information?"

"We have many sources," Lillie said. "Some within the mining companies themselves. Unfortunately, our contacts have not infiltrated top-level management."

Pitt mashed his cigarette into an ashtray recessed within the car door. "Nothing mysterious about someone attempting to gain a monopoly.

If they have the guts to pull it off, more power to them."

"A monopoly is bad enough," Lillie said. "The names of the men we've been able to uncover, who are high on the totem pole, include twelve of the, wealthiest men in the Western World-all possessing vast financial Powers in mineral exploitation.

And each with tentacles so long that they reach out and control over two hundred industrial corporations." Lillie paused, staring at Pitt. "Once they gain a monopoly they can force the prices of copper, aluminum, zinc and several other commercial ores halfway to the moon. The resulting inflation would devastate the economies of at least thirty nations. The United States, of course, being one of the first to go to its knees."

"It doesn't necessarily follow," Pitt said. "If that happens, they and their financial empires would be sucked down too."

Lillie smiled and nodded. "That's the catch. These men, F. James Kelly of the U.S Sir Eric Marks of Great Britain, Roger Dupuy of France, Hans Von Hummel of Germany, Than Mahani of Iran, and others-each worth close to ten figures-are all loyal to their respective countries. Any one of them might chisel and cheat on taxes, but none of them would willingly send his government over the brink of economic disaster.

"Then where's the profit motive?"

"We don't know."

"And Rondheim's connection?"

"None, except his relationship with Kirsti Fyrie and her offshore mining interests."

There was a long silence; then Pitt said slowly, "The burning question, then, is where do you fit in?

What does the takeover of Latin American mining syndicates have to do with Iceland? The N.I.A. didn't send you up here to play cab driver just to learn the local highway system. While your brother agents are lurking behind potted plants watching Kelly, Marks, Dupuy and the others, your assignment is to keep an eye on another member of the money boys' group. Shall I mention the name or would you like it written on paper and sealed in an envelope by Price Waterhouse?"

Lillie stared at him for a moment, considering.

"You're shooting in the dark."

"Am I?" Pitt was homing in now. "Okay, let's drag out the suspense and digress for a moment. Admiral Sandecker said he checked every port authority between Buenos Aires and Goose Bay and found twelve that recorded the entry and departure of an Icelandic fishing trawler matching the remodeled Lax. What he should have said was that he had them checked. Someone else did the actual work for him and that someone was the N.I.A."

"Nothing out of the ordinary in that," Lillie said flatly. "Records are sometimes easier for us to obtain than a government agency concerned with marine life."

"Except you already had the information before Sandecker requested it."

Lillie said nothing. He didn't have to. His grim expression was all the motivation Pitt needed to continue.

"One evening a couple of months ago, I ran into an Army communications officer in a bar. It was a slow night and neither of us felt like partying or chasing girls, so we just sat around and drank together until closing time. He had just finished a tour of duty at the Smytheford radio-communications station on Hudson Bay, Canada-a complex of two hundred radio masts forming a huge dish on a thousand-acre site. Don't ask me what his name and rank were so you can turn him in for divulging military secrets. I've forgotten them anyway."

Pitt hesitated a moment to shift his feet to a more comfortable position before he went on.