“No,” the admiral admitted. “Nothing but the sounds of the Kinjara Maru breaking up on her way down and the explosions of the torpedoes during the attack on the Grouper.”
“So all we have is the garbled tape from the Matador,” Kurt said.
“Do you have a better idea, Mr. Austin?” Brinks asked pointedly.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to track down Andras. And when I find him, that’ll lead us to whoever he’s working for.”
“CIA’s been looking for him for years,” Brinks said dismissively. “He never stays in one place long enough for anyone to get a line on him. What makes you think you’re going to succeed where they failed?”
“Because there are certain rocks they don’t like to turn over,” he said bluntly. “I have no such qualms.”
Brinks pursed his lips, looking disgusted. He turned back to NUMA’s Director. “Mr. Pitt, would you do something, please?”
Dirk leaned back in his chair, looking as casual as could be. “Sure,” he said to Brinks and then turned to Kurt. “Are you serious about this plan?”
“Yes, sir,” Kurt said. “I know someone who Andras used as a contact years ago. I believe he’s still active.”
“Then what are you doing wasting your time with us? Get your butt moving.”
Kurt smiled and stood. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“This is ridiculous,” Brinks said.
“And take Joe with you,” Pitt added, “if he wants to go.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Joe said.
Brinks ground his teeth and leaned over the table, looking at Dirk Pitt.
“One call and I’ll override this,” he said.
“No you won’t,” Pitt said confidently. “For one, Kurt’s right. Sticking him and Joe on a destroyer is a waste of resources. For another, it puts all our eggs in one basket: your basket. Which I realize, having spent so much time in Washington lately, is half the point. You get the credit if we succeed and you blame them and NUMA if you fail. Simple math. But you forgot a very important variable and that is: I don’t work for you and neither do these men. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you put the country or maritime community at risk for your own personal political agenda.”
Brinks looked about like a man who’d been gored in a bullfight. Even Admiral Farnsworth seemed pleased with the outcome, no doubt wondering what he needed a couple of NUMA civilians on his boats for anyway.
The admiral chuckled and then looked over at Gamay. “We could still use you, Mrs. Trout. Our sonar teams are very friendly.”
r /> “I’ll do my best to help,” she said.
Kurt stepped to the door.
“One thing, Kurt,” Dirk said.
Kurt looked back.
“Stay on the narrow road. This is a mission for us,” Pitt reminded him, “not a sortie of revenge.”
Kurt understood Dirk’s concern. He could feel the conflict inside himself, and no doubt it was easy for someone like Dirk Pitt to pick up on.
He nodded to Pitt, glanced at Brinks, and then headed for the door. He opened it and ran right into one of NUMA’s administrative assistants, a young woman he didn’t know.
“Are you okay?” Kurt asked.
The young woman nodded. “I just came to give Mrs. Trout some news.”
Kurt opened the door wider and let her in.
“Paul’s awake,” the woman said. “He’s asking for you.”