Deep Six (Dirk Pitt 7)

Pitt shook his head. "Haven't heard a word. Probably lost heart and deserted the cause."

"I have to desert the cause too," Loren said gently. "But only for a little while."

Pitt looked at her sternly a moment, then relaxed and laughed.

"How did a nice girl ever become a politician?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Chauvinist."

"Seriously, where will you be?"

"A shortifact-finding junket on a Russian cruise ship sailing the Caribbean."

"Of course," Pitt said. "I'd forgotten you chair the committee for merchant marine transport."

Loren nodded and patted her mouth with her napkin. "The last cruise ship to fly the Stars and Stripes was taken out of service in 1984. To many people this is a national disgrace. The President feels strongly that we should be represented in ocean commerce as well as naval defense. He's asking Congress for a budget outlay of ninety million dollars to restore the S.S. United States, which has been lain up at Norfolk for twenty years, and put her back in service to compete with the foreign cruise lines."

"And you're going to study the Russian method of lavishing their, passengers with vodka and caviar?"

"That," she said, looking suddenly official, "and the economics of their government-operated cruise ship."

"When do you sail?"

"Day after tomorrow. I fly to Miami and board the Leonin Andreyev. I'll be back in five days. What will you do?"

"The admiral has given me time off to pursue the Pilottown investigation."

"Does any of this information help you?"

"Every bit helps," he said, straining to focus on a thought that was a distant shadow on the horizon. Then he looked at her. "Have you heard anything through the congressional grapevine?"

"You mean gossip? Like who's screwing who?"

"Something heavier. Rumors of a missing party high in government or a foreign diplomat."

Loren shook her head. "No, nothing quite so sinister. The Capitol scene is pretty dull while Congress is in recess. Why? You know of a scandal brewing I don't?"

"Just asking," Pitt said noncommittally.

Her hand crept across the table and clasped his. "I have no idea where all this is taking you, but please be careful. Fu Manchu might get wise you're on his scent and lay in ambush."

Pitt turned and laughed. "I haven't read Sax Rohmer since I was a kid. Fu Manchu, the yellow peril. What made you think of him?"

She gave a little shrug. "I don't really know. A mental association with an old Peter Sellers movie, the Sosan Trading Company and the Korean crew of the Buras, I guess."

>

A faraway look came over Pitts eyes and then they widened.

The thought on the horizon crystallized. He hailed the waiter and paid the bill with a credit card.

"I've got to make a couple of phone calls," he explained briefly.

He kissed her lightly on the lips and hurried onto the crowded sidewalk.

Pitt QUICKLY DROVE to the NUMA building and closed himself in his office. He assembled his priorities for several moments and dialed Los Angeles on his private phone line. On the fifth ring a girl answered who couldn't pronounce her r's.

"Casio and Associates Investigations."