Jack Du Brul - Vulcan's forge

“Then, two days later, the September Laurel happens along, ‘aiding’ in the search, and miraculously they find Tish. That freighter, which was a hundred miles away from the Ocean Seeker when she blew up, managed to accomplish something the coast guard and navy couldn’t do. I don’t buy it. There were no weather problems during that time, no storms, no fog.”

“You’re wrong there, Dr. Mercer,” Admiral Morrison interrupted. “There was a tremendous amount of surface fog, and because of the President’s order not to send out surface ships, we were confined to an aerial search only.”

“Admiral, tell me honestly, is there any logical reason why your planes would have missed her, even with the fog?”

The chairman of the Joint Chiefs ran a hand across the tight whorls of hair on his large head before answering. “If she had been out there, my boys would have found her.”

“Since there is no logical reason why she wasn’t found by the coast guard or navy, I looked for an illogical one. The only one that fits, gentlemen, is a submarine.”

Morrison turned to the President. “It makes sense, sir. There could have been a sub out there and we never would have known it. None of the search aircraft used sonar buoys or acoustical gear in the search for survivors. That sub could have sat just under the surface and listened to us flounder around.”

The President nodded. “What other proof do you have, Dr. Mercer?”

“Since I couldn’t learn anything more about Ocean Freight and Cargo from Dave Saulman, I knew I needed a firsthand investigation, so Tish and I broke into their offices in New York.”

“What did you find?” asked Dick Henna.

“For one I found a fish tank in the vice president’s office, a large tank that contained only a single fish.”

“So?”

“Well, OF amp;C has a practice of naming their ships after months and flowers and painting those flowers on the stack of vessels. Tish remembers seeing the design on the stack of the ship that rescued her. It was a black circle surrounding a yellow dot, yet the September Laurel is marked with a bunch of laurels. The distinctive pattern that Tish remembered matches that of a European game fish I once caught in France.”

“What’s the connection?”

“The name of the fish is John Dory and that tank at the OF amp;C office contained a prime specimen.”

“That’s the thinnest connection I’ve ever heard,” Barnes remarked.

“I’d agree with you, if I hadn’t found a base file tab in the drawer with the ownership papers for the company’s vessels. The tab read ‘John Dory.’ At the time I thought the reference was simply a misfile, but it makes more sense that they own a ship by that name but don’t keep any paperwork on her. When I got back to D.C., I called the friend I went fishing with and he confirmed the name of the fish. The design on the stack pins down the source of the name, and the only ships ever named after fish are submarines.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Barnes chuckled indolently.

Mercer stood up. “Mr. President, you said I was a guest and not a prisoner. If that’s true, I want to leave. If you don’t want to listen to what I have to say, then I see no reason to stay here and try to explain. In the past few days, I’ve been shot at a dozen times, and not because I have a bad standing in the community. I’ve stumbled on something, and if you gentlemen are not interested in what I have to say, I’m going.”

“Dr. Mercer, please wait,” Henna said. “Tell us what happened in New York.”

Mercer told them about the break-in, the armed soldiers guarding the building, and his impressions about the office.

“There is something nefarious behind Ocean Freight and Cargo, and so far all indications point to the Russians,” Mercer concluded. “I just don’t know why.”

“Mr. President,” Henna said, turning in his seat, “I had some agents go to the OF amp;C offices soon after Dr. Mercer and Dr. Talbot had left. The scene had been sanitized — no corpses or blood. My men could tell that a gun had been discharged in the building. The air fresheners couldn’t mask the smell of the cordite. I can’t confirm what Dr. Mercer reported, but I certainly can’t deny it either.”

“I just remembered something.” Paul Barnes rejoined the conversation with a more accepting tone. “I can’t remember any details, but a report crossed my desk a few years ago from a metallurgist in Pennsylvania. It sounds similar to the conditions Dr. Mercer described about the explosion in 1954. He had obtained a sample of some element; I can’t remember what it was called, but it had something to do with radiation and seawater.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Admiral Morrison prompted after Barnes had lapsed into silence.

“Abraham Jacobs,” Barnes finally replied. “The scientist’s name was Abraham Jacobs. I’m sure he knew something about what we’re discussing.”

“Can you find him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want him in my office by this afternoon.” The force in the President’s voice galvanized the room. “We now have a more grave situation in Hawaii than we first estimated. If Dr. Mercer is right and this does go beyond Ohnishi’s personal coup and in some way involves the Russians, I don’t even want to think of the consequences.”

“It seems too far-fetched to me that Takahiro Ohnishi and the Russians have been planning this since the 1950s. Too much has changed in the world to make a plot of this type viable.” This from Henna.

“This could be an alliance of convenience,” hazarded Mercer. “Something that was formed recently, as new situations developed.”

“That makes sense,” the President agreed. “But we have to get in touch with this Dr. Jacobs. Hopefully he can tell us exactly what’s at stake here.”

“You mean over and above the possible secession of Hawaii?” Henna said caustically. The President shot him a scathing look.

“Mr. President, may I make a request?” asked Mercer.

“Yes, Dr. Mercer, what is it?”

“I have a feeling that we’re working under a time limit. Ohnishi or the Russians must know we’re on to them in some respect. They are probably being forced to push up their deadlines because of my action in New York. I have a feeling that the situation in Hawaii is going to get critical real soon.”

“I know what you are going to ask and it’s already been taken care of. The carrier Kitty Hawk and the amphibious assault ship Inchon are already on alert three hundred miles from Hawaii.”

“A good idea, sir, but not what I wanted. I think to better understand what we’re up against, a series of infrared photos should be taken of the area where the Ocean Seeker was sunk.”

The President looked toward Barnes, who rummaged through a briefcase at his feet. “Let’s see, there’s a KH-11 flyby of the north Pacific in thirteen hours. That bird has the right cameras and it wouldn’t take much to change her orbit to pass north of Hawaii.”

“Thirteen hours, that’s too late,” Mercer said.

“What do you suggest?”

“Either an SR-1 Blackbird or one of the air force’s superspy planes that no one is supposed to know about.”

“Paul?”

“There’s an SR-71 Wraith at Edwards, but I need your authorization to get her airborne.”

“Do it. How long before we get some pictures back?”

“At mach six the Wraith will be there and back in about an hour and a half. Say a half hour for film processing and transmission here.”

“Dr. Mercer, I needn’t remind you that you have not heard any of this, correct?” the President cautioned.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Mercer smiled. “I haven’t been listening. Did you say something?”