Trojan Odyssey (Dirk Pitt 17)

"We really need to go back and further investigate what we found in the cavern."

"That can also be arranged," Pitt assured him. "But all in good time. There's no deadline."

"And the brown crud that's killing the sea life around the bank?" Dirk persisted. "It can't be ignored."

"Another NUMA expedition with a new crew and different research ship will be assembled to return and study the scourge."

Dirk turned and looked across the port at the lights dancing on the water. "I wish we had more time to spend together," he said wistfully.

"How about a fishing trip in the north woods of Canada?" Pitt suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll work on Sandecker. After what we all achieved in the past few days, I don't think he'll deny us a little time off for pleasure."

Giordino and Summer came and joined them at the railing, waving to the ships they passed that signaled their praise for a job well done. The Sprite round

ed a bend and the NUMA dock came into view. As Pitt feared, it was crowded with TV vans and reporters.

Barnum eased the ship alongside the dock, the lines were thrown down and looped on the bollards. Then the boarding ramp was lowered. Admiral James Sandecker charged onto the ship like a fox chasing a chicken. He almost looked like a fox with his narrow features, flaming red hair and Vandyke beard. He was followed by the deputy director of NUMA, Rudi Gunn, the administrative genius behind the agency.

Barnum greeted the admiral as he stepped on board. "Welcome aboard, Admiral. I didn't expect to see you."

Sandecker waved an arm airily over the dock and mob of news-people and beamed. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world." Then he vigorously shook Barnum's hand. "A magnificent job, Captain. All NUMA is proud of you and your crew."

"It was a team effort," Barnum said humbly. "Without the heroic transfer of the mooring cables by Pitt and Giordino, the Ocean Wanderer would have surely smashed onto the rocks."

Sandecker spotted Pitt and Giordino and walked over to them. "Well," he said testily, "another day, another dollar. You two never seem able to stay out of trouble."

Pitt knew that was the finest compliment the admiral would pay him. "Let's just say that we were lucky to have been on a project off Puerto Rico when Heidi Lisherness called from our hurricane center in Key West and described the situation."

"Thank God you were able fly to the scene in time to help avert a major tragedy," said Gunn. He was a short little man with thick horn-rim glasses, blessed with a friendly disposition, a man whom everyone immediately liked.

"Luck played a major role," Giordino said unpretentiously.

Dirk and Summer approached and were greeted by Sandecker. "You two seem fit after your ordeal."

"If Dad and Al hadn't gotten us out of Pisces when they did," said Summer, "we wouldn't be standing here."

Sandecker's smile seemed cynical, but his eyes were filled with pride. "Yes, it seems that good-deed-doer's work never ends."

"Which brings me to a request," said Pitt.

"Request denied," replied Sandecker, reading his mind. "You people can put in for a restful vacation as soon as you finish the next project."

Giordino stared sullenly at the admiral. "You're an evil old man."

Sandecker ignored the slur. "Soon as you all get your things together, Rudi will drive you to the airport. I have a NUMA jet waiting to fly you to Washington. It's pressurized, so Dirk and Summer shouldn't have any complications from their recent decompression. We'll all meet in my office at noon tomorrow."

"I hope you have beds on the airplane, because that's the only sleep we're going to get," Giordino came back.

"Are you flying with us, Admiral?" asked Summer.

He grinned craftily. "Me? No, I'll follow on another plane." He motioned toward the waiting reporters. "Somebody has to sacrifice himself on the altar of the news media."

Giordino pulled a cigar from his breast pocket that looked suspiciously like one of Sandecker's private brand. He gazed cagily at the admiral as he lit the end. "Make sure they spell our names right."

Heidi Lisherness sat staring unseeing at the array of monitors showing a dying Hurricane Lizzie. After swinging southeast and causing havoc with ships traveling through the Caribbean, she slammed into the east coast of Nicaragua between Puerto Cabezas and Punta Gorda. Fortunately, her strength had dropped by half and there were few inhabitants living along the coastline. Before Lizzie traveled fifty miles across the lowland swamps and into the foothills, she had sputtered and finally died, but not before eighteen ships were lost with all hands and three thousand people had been killed, with another ten thousand injured and homeless.