Flood Tide

“There's a thought that brings on a migraine,” muttered Giordino.

“Speaking of relief.” Montaigne looked at Captain Lewis. “I don't suppose you have a bottle of whiskey on board?”

“Sorry, sir,” replied Lewis with a slight shake of the head. “No alcohol allowed on a Coast Guard ship.”

“It never hurts to ask.”

“How would the new river compare to the old?” Pitt asked the general.

“At the present time we control the flow of the Mississippi at the Old River Control Structure located about forty-five miles upriver from Baton Rouge. Our purpose is to maintain a distribution of thirty percent into the Atchafalaya and seventy percent into the Mississippi. When the two rivers merge with their full potential of a hundred-percent flow along a straighter path at half the distance to the Gulf compared to the cha

“Is there no way to plug the gap should it occur?” asked Stewart.

Montaigne thought for a moment. “With the right preparation, there are any number of responses the Corps can make, but the longer it takes to get our equipment in place, the more time the flood widens the hole in the levee. Our only salvation is that the dominant current of the Mississippi would continue in the cha

“How long do you think that would take?”

“Difficult to project. Perhaps two hours, perhaps two days.”

“Would the process be speeded up if Qin Shang sank barges diagonally across the Mississippi to divert the main flow?” queried Giordino.

Montaigne thought a moment, then said, “Even if a tow unit consisting of enough barges to block the entire width of the river could be pushed into the correct position and sunk—not an easy maneuver even by the best towboat pilots—the river's main current would still flow over the barges due to their low profile. Sitting on the riverbed, their upper cargo roofs would still have a good thirty to thirty-five feet of water flowing over them. As a diversionary dam, the concept would not prove practical.”

“Is it possible for you to begin preparations for an all-out effort?” asked Captain Lewis. “And have your men and equipment in position ready to go if and when Qin Shang destroys the levee?”

“Yes, it's possible,” answered Montaigne. “It won't come cheap to the taxpayers. The problem I face in issuing the order is that it's based simply on conjecture. We may suspect Qin Shang's motives, but without absolute proof of his intentions, my hands are tied.”

Pitt said, “I do believe, ladies and gentlemen, we've fallen into the 'close the barn door after the horse has escaped' syndrome.”

“Dirk is right,” Sandecker said solidly. “We'd be far better off to stop Qin Shang's operation before it takes place.”

“I'll contact the St. Mary Parish sheriff's department and explain the situation,” volunteered Harper. “I'm sure they will cooperate and send deputies to guard the levee.”

“A sound proposition,” agreed Montaigne. “I'll go one step further. My West Point classmate, General Oskar Olson, commands the National Guard in Louisiana. He'll be glad to send a contingent of troops to back up the sheriff's deputies if I make it a personal request.”

“The first men on the scene should search out and disarm the explosives,” said Pitt.

“They'll need equipment to torch open the iron door to a tu

“If Qin Shang wants to cut a wide breach,” said Montaigne, “he'd have to pack additional explosives into side tu

“I'm certain Qin Shang's engineers have figured out what it will take to blow a giant hole in the levee,” said Pitt grimly.

“It feels good,” Sandecker sighed, “to finally have a grip on Qin Shang's testicles.”

“Now all we need to know is the scumbag's time schedule,” said Giordino.

At that moment Lieutenant Stowe reentered the wardroom and handed Captain Lewis another communication. As he read the message, his eyes narrowed. Then he peered at Pitt. “It seems the pieces of the puzzle that were missing have appeared.”

“If the message is for me,” said Pitt, “please read it aloud for everyone.”

Lewis nodded and began reading. “ 'To Mr. Dirk Pitt, NUMA, on board Coast Guard ship Weehawken. Please be advised that the former passenger liner United States has not stopped at New Orleans. I repeat, has not stopped at New Orleans. With total disregard to scheduled docking procedures and welcoming ceremonies, the ship has continued upriver toward Baton Rouge. The captain has refused to answer all radio calls.' ” Lewis looked up. “What do you make of it?”

“Qin Shang never intended to make the United States into a New Orleans hotel and gambling casino,” Pitt explained dryly. “He plans to use it as a diversionary dam. Once the ship's nine-hundred-ninety-foot hull with its height of ninety feet is scuttled diagonally across the river, it will block ninety percent of the Mississippi's flow, sending one enormous flood tide through the shattered levee into the Atchafalaya.”

“Ingenious,” murmured Montaigne. “Then there would be no stopping the full force of the surge once it broke through. Nothing in this world could stop it.”

“You know the Mississippi better than anyone here, General,” Sandecker said to Montaigne. “How long do you think it will take the United States to reach the Mystic Canal below Baton Rouge?”

“Depends,” the general replied. “She'd have to slow to jockey her immense bulk around several sharp turns in the river, but she could use her top speed on the straighter reaches. From New Orleans to where the Mystic Canal stops, just short of the Bayou Goula bend of the Mississippi, is about a hundred miles.”

“With her interior an empty steel shell,” said Pitt, “she rides high in the water, adding to her potential speed. With all her boilers fired up, she can conceivably cut water at close to fifty miles an hour.”

“A band of angels would be powerless to help any barge or pleasure-craft traffic that's caught in her wash,” said Giordino.

Montaigne turned to Sandecker. “She could arrive on site in less than three hours.”

“We haven't a minute to lose in alerting the state emergency services to spread the alarm and begin evacuating every resident of the Atchafalaya Valley,” said Lewis, his face grave.

“Almost five-thirty,” Sandecker said, studying his watch. “We have only until eight-thirty this evening to stop a disaster of incalculable magnitude.” He paused to rub his eyes. “If we fail, hundreds, maybe thousands of i

After the meeting was over and everyone had left the wardroom, Pitt and Julia stood alone.

“It seems we're always saying good-bye,” she said, standing with her arms at her sides, her forehead pressed into Pitt's chest.

“A bad habit we have to break,” he said softly.

“I wish I didn't have to return to Washington with Peter, but Commissioner Monroe has ordered me to serve on the task force to indict Qin Shang.”

“You're an important lady for the government's case.”

“Please come home soon,” she whispered as the tears began to form.

He embraced and held her tightly. “You can stay at my hangar. Between my security system and the bodyguards to protect you from harm, you'll be safe until I get there.”

A mischievous twinkle came into her eyes through the tears. “Can I drive your Duesenberg?”

He laughed. “When was the last time you drove a stick shift?”

“Never,” she said, smiling. “I've always owned cars with automatic transmissions.”

“I promise that as soon as I can get there, we'll take the Duesy and go on a picnic.”