Treasure

"A grand plan," muttered Oates admiringly. "Nothing so mundane as burying intelligence moles, but infiltration at the very highest levels, and with the image of a messiah thrown in for good measure."

"Sounds pretty diabolical to me," said Nichols.

"I agree with Doug," said the President, nodding at Oates. "A grand plan. Training children from birth, using untold wealth and power to set up a national takeover. What we're really looking at here is an incredible display of unbending doggedness and patience."

"You have to give the bastards credit," Schiller admitted. "They stuck to their script until events swung in their favor. Now they're within centimeters of ruling two of the Third World's leading countries."

"We can't allow it to happen," the President said bluntly. "If the brother in Mexico becomes head of state and makes good his threat by driving two million of his countrymen across our borders, I see no choice but to send in our armed forces."

"I must caution against aggressive action," said Oates, speaking like a Secretary of State. "Recent history has shown that invaders do not fare well. Assassinating Yazid and Topiltzin, or whatever their names, and launching an assault on Mexico won't solve the long-range problem."

"Maybe not," grunted the President, "but it will dam well give us time to ease the situation."

"There may be another solution," said Nichols. "Use the Capesterres against themselves."

"I'm ," listening," said the President, stress showing in the lines around his eyes. "Please skip the riddles."

Nichols looked at Brogan for support. "These men were drug ckers. They must be wanted criminals. Is that right?"

"Yes on the first, no on the second," answered Brogan. "They're no petty street crooks. The entire family has been under investigation for years. No arrests. No convictions. They've got a staff of corporate and criminal lawyers that would put Washington's biggest law office to shame. They've got friends and co

"Then expose them to the world for the scum they are," pursued Nichols.

"NO good," said the President. "any attempt will surely backlash as a lie and propaganda ploy."

"Nichols might have a direction," said Schiller quietly. He was a man who listened more than he spoke. "All we need is a base that can't be cracked or shattered."

The President looked speculatively at Schiller. "Where are You leading, Julius?"

"The Lady Flamborough," replied Schiller, his face carefully pensive.

"Come up with indisputable proof that Yazid is behind the ship's hijacking and we can crack the Capesterre wall. "

Brogan nodded heavily. "The ensuing scandal would certainly be a step in stripping away Yazid's and Topfltzin's mystiques and opening the door to the family's countless criminal activities. "

"Don't forget the world news media. They'd have a shark feeding frenzy once they bit into the Capesten-es' bloody past." Nichols belatedly winced at his unthinking pun.

"You're all overlooking one important fact," Schiller said with a long sigh. "At the moment, any tie between the ship's disappearance and the Capesterres is strictly circumstantial."

Nichols frowned. "Who else has motives for getting rid of Presidents De Lorenzo and Hasan, and Hala Kamil?"

"No one!" Brogan said heatedly.

"Wait up," the President said patiently. "Julius has a sound point. The hijackers are not acting like typical Middle East terrorists. They have yet to identify themselves. They've made no demands or threats. Nor have they used the crew and passengers as hostages for international blackmail. I'm not ashamed to admit I find the silence nightmarish."

"We're faced with a different breed this time," admitted Brogan. "The Capesten-es are playing a waiting game, hoping De Lorenzo's and Hasan's governments will fall in their absence."

"any word on the cruise ship since George Pitts son discovered the switch?" asked Oates, coolly steering the discussion clear of an impending confrontation.

"Somewhere off the east coast of Tierra del Fuego," replied Schiller.

"Sailing like hell to the south. We're tracking by satellite and should have her cornered by this time tomorrow."

The President didn't look happy. "The hijackers could have murdered everyone on board by then."

"If they haven't already," said Brogan.

"What forces do we have in the area?"

"Virtually none, Mr. President," answered Nichols. "We have no call to maintain a presence that far south. Except for a few Air Force transport planes ferrying supplies to polar research stations, the only U.S. vessel anywhere near the Lady Flamborough is the Sounder, a NUMA deep-water survey ship. "

"The one carrying Dirk Pitt?"

"Yes, sir."

"What about our Special Forces people?"

"I was on the phone with General Keith at the Pentagon twenty minutes ago," Schiller volunteered. "An elite team, along with their equipment, boarded C-140 cargo jets and took off about an hour ago. They were accompanied by a wing of Osprey as ult aircraft."

The President sat back in the chair and folded his hands. "Where will they set up their command post?"

Brogan called up a map displaying the tip of South America on a giant wall monitor. He used a flashlight arrow to indicate a particular spot.

"Unless we receive new information that will alter the tentative plan,"

he explained, "they'll land at an airport outside the small Chilean city of Punta Arenas on the Brunswick Peninsula and use it as a base for operations."

"A long flight," said the President quietly. "When will they arrive?"

"Inside fifteen hours."

The President looked at Oates. "Doug, I leave it to you to handle any sovereignty issues with the Chilean and Argentine governments."

"I'll see to it."

"The Lady Flamborough will have to be found before the Special Forces can launch a rescue attempt," said Schiller with remorseless logic.

"We're up the creek on this one." There was a curious acceptance in Brogan's voice. "The closest carrier fleet is almost five thousand miles away. No way a full-scale air and sea search can be mounted."

Schiller stared at the table thoughtfully. "any rescue attempt could take weeks if the hijackers slip the Lady Flamborough in among the barren bays and coves along the Antarctic coast line. Fog, mist and low overcast wouldn't help matters either."

"Satellite surveillance is our only tool," said Nichols. "The predicament is that we have no spy satellites eyeballing that region of the earth."

"Dale is right," Schiller agreed. "The far southern seas are not high on the strategic surveillance list. If we were turn northern hemisphere, we could focus a whole array of listening and imagery gear to tune in conversations on board the ship and read a newspaper on deck."

"What's available?" the President asked.