Poseidon's Arrow

He leaned over the table in a gloating pose. “The Americans can duplicate the power plant only with rare earth elements. And without the supercavitation plans, their submarine is worthless.”

The Chinese officials did their best not to appear too eager. “You are willing to share these items with us?” Tao asked with feigned indifference.

“Sources tell me the Americans have secretly spent over a billion dollars in developing the Sea Arrow. If we have a deal on the other items we discussed, I shall be happy to sell you the motor and the plans for an additional fifty million dollars.”

Tao didn’t blink. “When could you deliver it?”

“The motor and plans will arrive by ship in Panama in five days. I’ll be happy to make the transfer there.”

“It is an attractive proposal,” Tao said. “We will afford it appropriate consideration.”

“Excellent.” Bolcke collected the photos and glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to catch a flight to Sydney. I’ve opened preliminary discussions for the acquisition of Mount Weld, so I will eagerly await your reply.”

“We will move as quickly as we can,” Jintai said.

The general called for an aide, and Bolcke was escorted out after everyone stood and shook hands. Jintai poured a whiskey for Tao and another for himself.

“Well, Tao, our Austrian friend makes a compelling case. Since our economy is strong, we can afford to muscle the marketplace. And why not try to make the technological leap that will assure our safety for the next century?”

“There could be potential economic repercussions that the General Secretary won’t relish,” Tao said, “but I agree that it is worth the risk.”

“Will he balk at the loan and cash payments?”

“Not when I explain the value of the Sea Arrow technology. We’ve had agents trying to penetrate the program, but with no success. I don’t question Bolcke’s estimate of their expenditures. In fact, he may be understating their costs.” He studied his glass of whiskey. “We must do what we can to obtain it.”

Jintai smiled. “Then it is agreed. We will jointly support the proposal to the General Secretary.”

“But there is one problem with our Austrian friend.” Tao turned to Zhou, who had been sitting silent throughout the meeting. “Please, tell the general what you have learned.”

Zhou cleared his throat. “General, I was assigned to investigate thefts of rare earth elements from our primary mine operation in Bayan Obo. There I found an organized crime ring that was systematically stealing crushed ore and transporting it to Tianjin. I tracked an illicit delivery that was loaded aboard a freighter called the Graz.” He paused, glancing at Tao for confirmation to keep talking.

“Should the name mean something to me?” Jintai asked.

“The Graz,” Tao said, “is owned by Bolcke’s shipping company.”

“Bolcke is orchestrating the theft of our own rare earth?”

“Yes,” Tao said. “He was brought in as a consultant at the mine some years ago, giving him opportunity to establish the theft ring. But it’s worse than that.” He nodded at Zhou.

“I examined a number of port records to track the freighter’s path,” Zhou said. “From Tianjin it sailed to Shanghai, and then to Hong Kong, where it off-loaded thirty metric tons of crushed bastnasite that the Ministry of Commerce had purchased on the open market. The purchase was brokered through Bolcke’s firm, Habsburg Industries.”

“Bolcke is selling us our own rare earth?” Jintai nearly popped out of his chair.

Zhou nodded.

“The greedy swine!” Catching his breath, he turned to Tao. “What do we do now?”

Tao carefully snuffed his cigarette in an ashtray before locking eyes with Jintai.

“The American technology must be obtained at all costs. We will send Zhou to Panama to proceed with its acquisition.”

“What about the rare earths? Do we proceed with the export ban and fund the mine acquisition?”

“We will still push for the export ban. As for the mine funding . . .” His hardened face turned sly. “We will arrange to pay back Mr. Bolcke in a ma

37

PLUMERIA BLOSSOMS, MIXED WITH THE FAINT aroma of aviation fuel, filled the air as Pitt and Giordino exited the terminal at Honolulu International Airport. The bright sunshine and tropical breeze instantly washed away the fatigue of their twelve-hour flight from Washington. Giordino hailed a cab, and they hopped in for the short ride to Pearl Harbor.

The palm-lined streets brought back a flood of memories to Pitt. He had spent considerable time in the Hawaiian Islands during his first years with NUMA. It was here he had fallen in love with a radiant woman named Summer Moran. Though it had been decades since he had last seen her alive, her delicate face and sparkling eyes remained as clear to him as the sky overhead. The deceased mother of his two grown children, she lay buried in an ocean-view cemetery on the other side of the island.

Pitt shook away his recollections as they reached the entrance to the Navy base. A young ensign was waiting for them at the visitors’ gate and politely loaded their bags into a Jeep. He navigated onto the docks and pulled up next to a slab-sided vessel with a slim, round superstructure that looked like it had been lopped off with a sharp knife.

“What is it?” Giordino asked. “Some sort of car ferry on steroids?”

“You’re not far from the mark,” Pitt said. “The Fortitude’s design is based on a high-speed automobile ferry built by an Australian company.”

“Catamaran hull?” Giordino said, noting the ship’s rotund bow was supported by twin vertical hulls.

“Yes, and made of aluminum. The Fortitude is driven by water-jet propulsion. She’s part of the Military Sealift Command, and is designed to transport troops and equipment quickly. The Navy’s building a small fleet of them.”

As they retrieved their bags from the Jeep, a lantern-jawed man in fatigues approached them. “Mr. Pitt?”

“Yes, I’m Pitt.”

“Lieutenant Aaron Plugrad, Coast Guard Maritime Safety.” The man reached out and shook Pitt’s hand with an iron grip. “My men are already secured aboard the Fortitude. I’m told we can shove off at any time.”

“What’s the size of your team, Lieutenant?”

“I lead a squad of eight men, well trained to combat piracy operations. If there’s a hijacking attempt, we’ll stop it.”

Plugrad and his men came from a little-known command called the Coast Guard Deployable Operations Group. Essentially a SWAT team at sea, they were trained in counterterrorism, high-risk ship boardings, and explosives detection.

“One question for you, sir,” Plugrad said. “We received a crate from NUMA containing a dozen high-end Hazmat suits. We went ahead and loaded the crate aboard ship.”

“Those are for your men,” Pitt said. “Be sure each is issued a suit when we board the Adelaide. We have a theory that the potential assault may involve the use of a beefed-up microwave system similar to those developed by the Army for crowd control.”

“I’m familiar with that system,” Plugrad said. “We’ll take the necessary precautions.”

Pitt and Giordino boarded the sleek ship, where they were greeted by the Fortitude’s captain, a prematurely gray Navy commander named Jarrett. He led the NUMA men to the bridge, where he outlined their proposed course on a navigation monitor.

“We’ll be looking to rendezvous with the Adelaide here,” Jarrett said, stabbing a finger at an empty expanse of ocean southeast of the Hawaiian Islands. “It’s about eleven hundred miles from Oahu. We’ll zero in on the Adelaide’s course once we get closer, but we should catch her in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty-four hours?” Giordino shook his head. “Do you have jet engines on this thing?”