Clive Cussler - White Death

"You've got me there," Austin said. "If you could get into the ship and tear the engine room apart, maybe you'd find a mechanism that would allow the ship's speed to be controlled from the outside as well."

"I knew everyone on the Sea Sentinel. They're intensely loyal." She jutted her chin forward as if she expected an argument. "There's no one in that crew who would sabotage the ship."

"I haven't made any accusations."

"Sorry," she said. "I suppose I should keep an open mind about someone from the crew being involved."

"Not necessarily. Let me ask what they say at airport security. Did anyone else pack your baggage or has it been out of your sight?"

"So you do think someone from the outside could have sabotaged the ship."

Austin nodded. "I found a power source line for the winches lead- ing into the hull to tap the ship's energy supply. Someone would have to get inside the ship to accomplish that."

"Now that you mention it," she said without hesitation, "the ship needed some engine work. It was in dry dock for four days in the Shetland Islands."

"Who did the work?" "Marcus would know. I'll ask him."

"It could be important." He tapped the screen. "This may be Ryan's ticket out of jail. I'd suggest you get in touch with a guy at my hotel named Becker who seems to be some sort ofbehind-the-scenes mucky-muck with the Danish navy department. He might be able to help."

"I don't understand. Why would the Danes want to help Marcus after all the awful things they've said about him?"

"That's for public consumption. What they really want is to kick Ryan's butt out of the Faroes and make sure he never shows his face here again. They don't want him to get on his soapbox, because it might scare away companies that are thinking about investing in the Faroes. Sorry if this messes up Ryan's martyrdom plans."

"I won't deny that Marcus was hoping to make this a cause celebre."

"Isn't that a risky strategy? If he pushes the Danes too far, they may be forced to convict him and toss him into jail. He doesn't strike me as a reckless guy."

"He isn't reckless at all, but Marcus will take a calculated risk if he thinks the stakes are worth it. In this case, he would have weighed going to jail against a chance to stop the grind."

Austin extracted the camera cassette from the computer and pre- sented it to Therri. "Tell Becker that I will testify to what I saw and verify that I took these pictures. I'll run a check on the manufacturer of this antenna, but it's possible that it was put together out of stan- dard parts and won't tell us anything."

"I don't know how to thank you," Therri said, rising from her chair.

"My standard fee is acceptance of a dinner invitation."

"I'd be more than pleased to-" She stopped short and glanced across the room past Austin's shoulder. "Kurt, do you know that man? He's been staring at you for some time."

Austin turned, and saw a balding, long-jawed man in his sixties, who was now making his way to the table.

"It's Kurt Austin ofNUMA, if I'm not mistaken," the man said in a booming voice.

Austin stood and extended his hand. "Professor Jorgensen, nice to see you. It's been three years since we last saw each other."

"Four, actually, since we worked on that project in the Yucatan. What a wonderful surprise! I saw the news of the miraculous rescue you performed, but assumed you had departed the Faroes."

The professor was tall and narrow-shouldered. The ample tufts of hair flanking his freckled pate resembled swan wings. He spoke English with an Oxford accent, which was not surprising, since he had spent his undergraduate years at the famed English university.

"I stayed on to help Ms. Weld here with a project." Austin intro- duced Therri, and said, "This is Professor Peter Jorgensen. Dr. Jor- gensen is one of the foremost fisheries physiologists in the world." "Kurt makes it sound far more glamorous than it is. I'm simply a fish physician, so to speak. Well, what brings you to this far-flung out- post of civilization, Ms. Weld?"

"I'm an attorney. I'm studying the Danish legal system."

Austin said, "How about you, Professor? Are you doing some work here in the Faroes?"

"Yes, I've been looking into some peculiar phenomena," he said, without taking his eyes off of Therri. "Maybe I'm being forward, but I have a splendid suggestion. Perhaps we could have dinner together tonight and I could tell you about what I've been doing." "I'm afraid Ms. Weld and I already have plans." A pained expression crossed Them's face. "Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry. I started to say I'd be pleased to have dinner with you, but not tonight. I'm going to be busy with that legal matter we discussed."

"Hoist by my own petard," Austin said with a shrug. "Looks like you and I have a date, Professor."

"Splendid! I'll see you in the dining room of the Hotel Hania around seven, if that sounds all right." Turning to Therri, he said,

"I'm devastated, Ms. Weld. I hope we will meet again." He kissed her hand.

"He's charming," Therri said, after Jorgensen left. "Very courtly in an old-fashioned way."

"I agree," Austin said, "but I'd still rather have you as my dinner partner."

"I'm so sorry. Perhaps when we get back to the States." Her eyes darkened a shade. "I've been thinking about your theory about the possibility that the Sea Sentinel was controlled from the outside. What would be the range involved in controlling a ship?"

"It could be done from quite a distance, but whoever did it would stay close by to see if the ship were responding to command. Any ideas?"

"There were a number of boats carrying press in the area. Even a helicopter."

"The controls could have been worked from the sea or the air. It wouldn't have required much in the way of equipment. A transmit- ter with a joystick, maybe, like you see for video games. Assuming we know the how, let's talk about the why. Who would benefit by neutralizing Ryan?"

"Do you have all day? The list could go on forever. Marcus has made enemies all over the world."

"For a start, let's confine ourselves to the Faroe Islands." "The whalers would top the enemy list. Passions run high over the issue, but they're basically decent people, in spite of their odd customs. I can't see them attacking the navy ship that's been sent to protect them." She paused in thought. "There's another possibility, but it's probably too farfetched to consider."

Try me.

She furrowed her brow in concentration. "After thegrindarap op- eration, Marcus and his crew planned to make a showing at a fish farm owned by the Oceanus Corporation. The Sentinels are also against large-scale aquaculture, because of the harm to the environ- ment."

"What do you know about Oceanus?"

"Not much. It's a multinational distributor of seafood products. Traditionally, they've bought fish from fleets around the world, but in the last few years they've gotten into aquaculture in a huge way. Their fish farms are on the same scale as some of the land farms op- erated by the agribusiness outfits in the States."

"You think Oceanus could have arranged this whole thing?"

"Oh, I don't know, Kurt. They would have the resources, though. And, just maybe, the motive."

"Where was their fish farm located?"

"Not far from here, near a place called Skaalshavn. Marcus planned to run the Sea Sentinel back and forth in front of the farm for the benefit of the cameras." Therri glanced at her watch. "That reminds me… I should be going. I've got a lot of work to do."

They shook hands, vowing to get together again. Therri made her way across the dining room and stopped briefly to throw him a coquettish glance over her shoulder. The gesture was probably meant to be reassuring, but it only made Austin sadder.

PROFESSOR JORGENSEN HAD politely watched for sev- eral minutes as Austin tried to navigate his way through the in- comprehensible courses listed on the menu, but finally he could bear it no longer. He leaned across the table and said, "If you'd like to try a Faroese specialty, I'd recommend the fried puffin or the pilot-whale steak."