Gale Force

95

Katsuo Nakadate replaced his handset and studied his computer screen with satisfaction. Masao Tanaka’s information had come at a fortunate time.

Nakadate had discovered, purely by accident, that he could follow the path of the Gale Force across the North Pacific simply by typing the name of the tugboat into an Internet search browser. The tug transmitted a GPS signal that was monitored and rebroadcast by a number of marine traffic websites, all of them dedicated to tracking the progress of ships across the sea.

If the Pacific Lion had been making a routine voyage, Nakadate surmised that he could have followed her path just as easily. The Internet site featured maps that were filled with hundreds of cursors, like an air traffic controller’s screen, each cursor representing a cargo ship, a tug, or a large fishing vessel.

Right now, Nakadate could see that the Gale Force had crossed the Gulf of Alaska to the Haida Gwaii archipelago, and turned in a southwesterly direction to follow the coast of the Canadian Vancouver Island toward Seattle.

The western length of Vancouver Island, Nakadate had learned, was remote and rugged, and mostly uninhabited. But there were settlements, mostly toward the southern end, fishing villages and tourist towns. They would have to do.

Nakadate picked up the phone. Called Daishin Sato on his satellite phone. Sato answered, apologized for the poor reception, and Nakadate could hear the man’s breathing as he ventured, presumably, somewhere better.

Then Nakadate could hear the wind, and perhaps the ocean. Whatever it was, Sato’s voice came through much clearer. “We are ready.”

“The briefcase is aboard the tug,” Nakadate told him. “You will retrieve it under cover of darkness. Take whatever steps necessary to maintain secrecy. Then you will retreat to Vancouver Island, a town named Tofino. I will arrange for your retrieval there.”

“As you wish,” Sato replied. Nakadate ended the call. Checked on the progress of the Gale Force again. Then he brought up the tugboat company’s website. It was a minor site, plain and amateurish. A picture of the tug, and a picture of the captain—a woman named McKenna Rhodes. Nakadate studied the pictures. The tug was handsome and well-kept, her owner surprisingly young for such a position. Her eyes were clear, though, and her gaze direct. She didn’t look like someone who would brook Sato’s ambush without a fight.

So be it, Nakadate thought. If she is lucky, she won’t even notice Sato’s presence aboard her tug. But I will have my property returned, one way or the other.

He clicked off of the Gale Force Marine website. Brought up the GPS map again. The Gale Force inched across the ocean, little by little, beating her steady path down the Canadian coast.