Clive Cussler: Pacific Vortex!

Pitt shook Cinana's outstretched hand and grinned. «I know the feeling.»

«Good-bye, and good luck.»

«Same to you, Captain.»

Cinana turned and sidestepped through the crowd to the hotel lobby entrance and became lost in the mining sea of heads.

Pitt still hadn't touched his drink. After Cinana's departure, he sensed a maddening loneliness, despite the surrounding din of voices in the crowded room. Pitt had the urge to get very drunk. He wanted to forget the name Starbuck and concentrate on more important matters, such as picking up a vacationing secretary who had left all her sexual inhibitions back in Omaha, Nebraska. He downed his drink and ordered another.

He was just about ready to try out his soft-tongued affability when he became aware of the touch of two

soft, feminine breasts pressing into his back, and a pair of slender white hands encircling his waist. He unhurriedly turned and found his eyes confronted by the impish face of Adrian Hunter.

«Hello, Dirk,» she murmured in a husky voice. «Need a drinking partner?»

«I might What's in it for me?»

She tightened her hands around his waist. «We could go to my place, tune in the late, late movie, and take notes.»

«Can't. Mother wants me home early.»

«Oh come now, lover, you wouldn't deny an old friend an evening of scandalous behavior, would you?»

«That what old friends are for?» he said sarcastically. Her hands had moved downward and he pulled them away. «You should find yourself a new hobby. At the rate you indulge your fantasies, I'm surprised you haven't been sold for scrap by now.»

«That's an interesting thought,» she smiled at him. «I could always use the money. I wonder what I'd bring.»

«Probably the price of a well-used Edsel.»

She thrust out her chest and faked a pout. «You only hurt the one you love, so I'm told.»

Considering the exhaustive pace of her nightlife, Pitt thought she was still a damn good-looking woman. He remembered the soft feel of her body when he last made love to her. He also remembered that no matter how relentless his attack, nor how expert his technique he could never satisfy her.

«Not to change the subject of our stimulating conversation,» he said, «but I met your father for the first time today.»

He waited for a hint of surprise. There was none.

She seemed quite unconcerned. «Really? What did old Lord Nelson have to talk about?»

«For one thing, he didn't care for the way I was dressed.»

«Don't feel badly. He doesn't care for the way I dress either.»

He took a sip from his Scotch and gazed at her over the top of the glass. «In your case, I can't blame him. No man likes to see his daughter come off like a back alley hooker.»

She ignored his last remark; that her father had come face-to-face with but one of her many lovers, didn't interest her at all. She wiggled onto the next bar stool and gazed at him with a seductive look burning in her eyes, the effect heightened by the long black hair winding around one shoulder. Her skin glowed like polished bronze under the dim lights of the cocktail lounge.

She whispered, «How about that drink?»

Pitt nodded at the bartender. «A Brandy Alexander for the… ah, lady.»

She scowled a little and then smiled. «Don't you know that being referred to as a lady is very old-fashioned?»

«An old carry-over. All men want a girl, just like the girl, that married dear old Dad.»

«Mom was a drag,» she said, her voice elaborately casual.

«How about Dad?»

«Dad was a will-o'-the-wisp. He was never home, always chasing after some smelly old derelict barge or a forgotten shipwreck. He loved the ocean more than he loved his own family. The night I was born, he was rescuing the crew of a sinking oil tanker in the mid-Pacific. When I graduated from high school, he was at sea searching for a missing aircraft. And when Mother died, our dear admiral was charting icebergs off Greenland with some long-haired freaks from the Eaton School of Oceanography.» Her eyes shifted just enough to let Pitt know he was onto her sore spot. «So don't bother shedding tears over this father-daughter relationship. The admiral and I tolerate each other purely out of social convenience.»

Pitt stared down at her. «You're all grown up now; why don't you leave home?»

The bartender brought her drink and she sipped it. «What better deal can a girl find? I'm continually surrounded by handsome males in uniform. Look at the odds; thousands of men and no competition. Why should I leave the old homestead and scrounge for leftovers? No, the admiral needs the image of a family man, and I need old Dad for the fringe benefits that come with being an admiral's daughter.» Then she looked at him, faking a shy and bashful expression. «My apartment? Shall we?»

«You'll have to take a raincheck, Miss Hunter,» said a delicate voice behind them. «The captain is waiting for me.»

Adrian and Pitt both turned in unison. There stood the most exotic-looking woman Pitt had ever seen. She possessed eyes so gray, they defied reality, and her hair fell in an enchanting cascade of red, presenting a vibrant contrast against the green, Oriental sheath dress that adhered to her curvaceous body.

Pitt quickly searched his memory, but with no success. He was certain he had never laid eyes on this beauty before. When he rose off the bar stool, he was pleasingly surprised to feel his heart accelerate. She was the first woman to ignite his emotions on a first meeting since a basset hound-eyed blond in the fifth grade who bit him on the arm during recess.

Adrian was the first to break the silence. «I'm sorry, honey, but as they say in the old family mining claim, you're trespassing.»

Adrian seemed to enjoy the situation. To her, the intruder was no more than a nuisance. She turned, offering her back to the girl, and began sipping her drink again.

The great gray eyes never strayed from Adrian. «Your rudeness, Miss Hunter, is only surpassed by your reputation as a tramp.»

Adrian was too cool to give up an inch. She sat immobile, staring straight ahead at the girl's reflection in the mirror behind the bar. «Fifty dollars?» she said loudly so all within thirty feet could hear. «Considering your amateur standing and less than mediocre talents, you're vastly overpriced.»

Several customers sitting in the immediate neighborhood of the bar were listening intently to the caustic exchange. The women were frowning, but the men were grinning, secretly envying the speechless male who was trapped in the no-man's-land of the sex battle. Pitt was adequately awed. It was a new experience to have two lovely females trading barbs over his possession. His ego basked in the sheer exhilaration of the moment.

«May I speak with you in private, Miss Hunter?» asked the mysterious girl in the green dress.

Adrian nodded. «Why not?» She turned and slid smoothly off the bar stool, following the stranger through the open doors that led to the hotel's private beach. Pitt stared in rapt fascination at both pairs of rounded hips as they rotated in a fluidlike motion that was, or so Pitt imagined, suggestive of two beach-balls caught in the same swirling whirlpool.

Pitt sighed and leaned limply against the bar, feeling like a spider eyeing two flies circling his net, and wishing they'd entangle somewhere else. Then he caught the open stares of his audience; he grinned and bowed, acknowledging their steadfast attention before he turned back to the bar.

There's been enough surprises for one day, he ruefully admitted to himself. Where will it all end? Heeding the call for more courage, he signaled the bartender and ordered another Cutty on the rocks— a double tins time.

Fifteen minutes later, Gray Eyes returned and stood silently behind him. Pitt was so deeply lost in thought that it took him several seconds before he sensed her presence and looked up to be met by her reflection in the mirror.