Clive Cussler - Flood Tide

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Apple-style-span AN UNDERWATER GRAVEYARD IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST... A MYSTERIOUS SEAPORT IN THE LOUISIANA BAYOUS... A DIABOLICAL PLOT TO DESTROY AMERICA!
When NUMA agent DIRK PITT® rescues a beautiful undercover agent in a daring underwater operation at Orion Lake, just north of Seattle, he confronts a sinister network run by Qin Shang, a ruthless smuggler who sells Chinese immigrants into slavery. Shang's campaign contributions have bought him a collection of powerful U.S. politicians, but Pitt is not a man to be subverted by politics. As he moves to probe Shang's mystifying seaport in the Louisiana bayous, his investigation involves him in an adrenaline-pumped race up the Mississippi River and a desperate dash to recover sunken Chinese treasures lost half a century before. And in Qin Shang, Pitt faces ones of his most formidable foes -- a madman bent on killing thousands of innocent civilians with a catastrophic surge of mass destruction.

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“She was laid down and launched in the same year, nineteen thirteen, by Harland and Wolff shipbuilders of Belfast for the Singapore Pacific Steamship Lines. Her original name was Lanai. Gross tonnage of just under eleven thousand tons, over-all length of four hundred and ninety-seven feet and a sixty-foot beam, she was rather a good-looking ship for her day.” He paused and held up the book to show a photograph of the ship sailing over a flat sea with a trailing wisp of smoke from her single smokestack. The photo was tinted and revealed the traditional black hull with white superstructure topped by a tall green funnel. “She could carry five hundred and ten passengers, fifty-five of them first class,” Perlmutter continued. “She was originally coal-fired but converted to oil-firing in nineteen twenty. Top speed of seventeen knots. Her maiden voyage took place in December of nineteen thirteen when she left Southampton for Singapore. Until nineteen thirty-one, most of her voyages were between Singapore and Honolulu.”

“It must have been a comfortable and relaxing experience sailing across the South Seas in those early days,” said Julia.

“Passengers were not nearly so harried and occupied eighty years ago,” Pitt agreed. He looked at Perlmutter. “When did the Lanai become the Princess Dou Wan?”

“She was sold to the Canton Lines out of Shanghai in nineteen thirty-one,” Perlmutter answered. “From then until the war, she carried passengers and cargo to ports around the South China Sea. During the war, she served as an Australian troop transport. In nineteen forty-two, while unloading troops and their equipment off New Guinea, she was attacked by Japanese aircraft and severely damaged, but she returned to Sidney under her own power for repair and a refit. Her war record is quite impressive. From nineteen forty to nineteen forty-five, she transported over eighty thousand men in and out of the war zone, dodging enemy aircraft, submarines and warships and suffering extensive damage inflicted during seven different attacks.”

“Five years of sailing through Japanese-infested waters,” said Pitt. “It's a wonder she wasn't sunk.”

“When the war ended, the Princess Dou Wan was returned to the Canton Lines and refitted as a passenger ship again. She then went into service between Hong Kong and Shanghai. Then in the late fall of nineteen forty-eight she was taken out of service and sent to the scrappers hi Singapore for breaking up.”

“Breaking up,” Pitt echoed. “You said she sank off Central America.”

“Her fate gets vague,” said Perlmutter, pulling several loose sheets of paper from the book. “I accumulated what information I could find and condensed it into a brief report. All that's known for certain is that she didn't make it to the scrappers. The final account came from a naval station radio operator at Valparaiso, Chile. According to the radio operator's records, a ship calling herself the Princess Dou Wan sent out a series of distress signals, saying she was taking on water and badly listing under a violent storm two hundred miles west. Repeated inquiries brought no answers. Then her radio went dead and she was never heard from again. A search turned up no sign of her.”

“Could there have been another Princess Dou Wan?” asked Julia.

Perlmutter shook his head negatively. “The International Ships Registry only lists one Princess Dou Wan between eighteen fifty and the present. The signal must have been sent as a red herring from another Chinese vessel.”

“Where did the rumor originate that Chinese antiquities were on board?” asked Pitt.

Perlmutter held out his hands, palms upward in a sign of unknowing. “A myth, a legend, the sea is full of them. The only sources I'm aware of were unreliable dockworkers and Nationalist Chinese soldiers who were in charge of loading the ship. They were later captured and interrogated by the Communists. One claimed a crate broke open while itXwas being lifted aboard, revealing a life-size bronze prancing horse.”

“How on earth did you find all this information?” said Julia, overwhelmed with Perlmutter's knowledge of maritime disasters.

He smiled. “From a fellow researcher in China. I have sources around the world that I rely on to send me books and information related to shipwrecks whenever they find it. They know that I pay top dollar for reports that contain new and uncovered ground. The story of the Princess Dou Wan came from an old friend who is China's top historian and researcher by the name of Zhu Kwan. We've corresponded and exchanged maritime information for many years. It was he who mentioned a legend surrounding the alleged treasure ship.”

“Was Zhu Kwan able to give you a manifest of the treasure?” Pitt inquired.

“No, he claimed only that his research led him to believe that before Mao's troops marched into Shanghai, Chiang Kai-shek cleaned out the museums, galleries and private collections of Chinese antiquities. Records of art and artifacts before World War n in China are sketchy to say the least. It is pretty well known that after the Communists took over, there were few antiquities to be found. All that you see in China today were discovered and excavated since nineteen forty-eight.”

“Not one of the lost treasures was ever found?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Perlmutter admitted. “Nor has Zhu Kwan told me any different.”

Pitt took the last swallow from his glass of the forty-year-old port. “So a vast part of China's heritage may lie on the bottom of the sea.”

Julia's expression altered to curiosity. “This is all most interesting, but I fail to see what good any of this has to do with Qin Shang's illegal immigrant-smuggling operations.”

Pitt took her hand and held it tightly. “Your Immigration and Naturalization Service, the Central Intelligence Agency and the Federal Bureau of Investigation can strike Qin Shang and his rotten empire from the front and sides. But his obsession with the lost antiquities of China opens the door for the National Underwater and Marine Agency to strike him from the rear, where he least expects it. St. Julien and I will have to play catch-up. But we're very good at what we do. Together, we make a better search team than any Qin Shang can put together.” Pitt paused, and his expression lightened. “Now the only trick we have to perform is to find the Princess Dou Wan before Qin Shang.”

THE NIGHT WAS STILL YOUNG WHEN PlTT AND JULIA LEFT ST. Julien Perlmutter's carriage house. Pitt turned the Duesenberg around and drove out the driveway toward the street. He stopped before entering the traffic. The two Ford vans driven by the special bodyguards from the security company hired by Peter Harper were not parked and patiently waiting at the curb. They were nowhere in sight.

“It seems we've been abandoned,” said Pitt, his foot firmly on the brake pedal of the Duesenberg.

Julia looked puzzled. “I don't understand. I can think of no reason why they would desert us.”

“Maybe they decided we were boring, and they drove to a sports bar to watch basketball.”

“Not funny,” Julia said grimly.

“Then it's deja vu all over again,” Pitt noted with deceptive calm. He leaned across Julia, reached into a side pocket on the door, pulled out the old .45 Colt that he had reloaded, and handed it to her. “I hope you haven't lost your touch since our escapade on the Orion River.”

She shook her head vigorously. “You're exaggerating the danger.”

“No, I'm not,” he argued. “Something is seriously wrong. Take the gun, and if you have to, use it.”

“There must be a simple explanation for the vans' departure.”

“One more prognostication of Pitt's precognition. The pockets of the Immigration and Naturalization Service are not as deep as the pockets of Qin Shang Maritime Limited. I suspect Harper's private security guards were paid double to pack up and go home.”

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