Poseidon's Arrow

82

LOOKS LIKE WE’VE GOT COMPANY, BOSS.”

Seated in a lounge chair under an umbrella, Al Giordino kicked open a cooler and tossed an empty beer bottle inside. He closed the lid, placed his bandaged leg atop the cooler for support, and eyed the approaching speedboat. He was dressed for a day at the beach in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, although he was sitting on a barge in the middle of the Panama Canal.

“I hope it’s not another representative from the Canal Authority.” Pitt was kneeling on the deck nearby, checking an assortment of dive equipment.

“Actually, it looks to be our man from Washington.”

The speedboat pulled alongside, and Rudi Gunn hopped aboard the barge. With a travel bag hanging over his shoulder, he wore khaki pants and an oxford shirt and was drenched in sweat. “Greetings, canal wreckers,” he said. He embraced his old friends. “Nobody told me this place would be more miserable than Washington in August.”

“It’s not that bad,” Giordino said, fishing a cold beer out of the cooler for him. “The alligators are smaller here.”

“You didn’t really have to fly down and check on us,” Pitt said.

“Believe me, I’m only too happy to get out of that town. You created a public relations nightmare with the demolished dam and sunken ships all over the place.”

Gunn peered down the waterway at a large green ship that was aground on the canal bank. A crew of workers milled about her mangled bow, making repairs so she could be floated down the waterway. “Is that the Adelaide?”

“Yes,” Pitt said. “And we’re parked over the Salzburg.”

Gunn shook his head. “The Panamanians are crying bloody murder. Between fixing the dam, raising the Salzburg, and compensating for lost traffic through the canal, Uncle Sam is going to be writing the country a pretty large check.”

“It’s still a bargain, considering what we almost lost.”

“I can’t disagree. Sandecker’s pleased as Punch, and the President is extremely grateful. However, for security reasons, he can’t divulge what was at stake. He’s taking lots of heat for what Panama is calling reckless American adventurism.”

Giordino yanked another beer from the cooler and popped its cap. “Reckless American adventurism? I’ll drink to that.”

“Of course,” Gunn said, “the President will be much happier if we return the Sea Arrow’s motor.”

“I have my best team working on it as we speak,” Pitt said.

Gunn looked up the canal in the other direction, eyeing a gray Navy destroyer moored a short distance away.

“The Spruance,” Pitt said. “Our security escort and lift vessel, if we’re fortunate.” Pitt looked Gunn in the eye. “It was a lucky thing you sent her into the locks when you did. I probably wouldn’t be here but for the armed detail they deployed.”

“Hiram and I saw the events unfolding on the canal’s video system. The Spruance happened to be heading in for a canal transit, so we accelerated her passage. Or Vice President Sandecker did, I should say.”

He looked over the side rail and saw air bubbles popping on the surface from the divers below. “How did the cruise ship make out?”

“The Sea Splendour? Her captain figured he was history, but a funny thing happened. The Italian media made him out as a hero for his role in stopping Bolcke and exposing the slave camp. Once the cruise line realized our government was footing the bill for all the damage, they gave him a medal and a promotion. The canal pilot aboard at the time didn’t fare so well, losing his job. But I understand Captain Franco got him an assignment with the cruise line.”

Gunn smiled. “Maybe he can get me a new job, too.”

The bubbles beneath him grew larger until the two divers appeared. Gunn recognized Dirk and Summer as they swam to a dive ladder and climbed aboard.

“Hi, Rudi,” Dirk said. “Come to dive with us? The water’s warm.”

“No, thanks.” Gunn looked askance at the turbid water. “Any sign of the motor?”

“We found it sitting intact, still strapped to the flatbed truck,” Summer said. “It was somehow tossed clear of the other containers, and the Salzburg as well.”

“The flatbed’s pretty mangled, but I didn’t see any damage to the motor itself,” Dirk said. “The Spruance should easily be able to hoist it up.”

Gunn let out a sigh. “That’s great news. NUMA won’t have to pay for a new dam now,” he said, giving Pitt a sideways look.

“Not our area of expertise,” Pitt replied with a laugh. “The Canal Authority did agree to let us supervise the removal of the Salzburg from the ditch, so it looks like we’ll be enjoying the balmy local weather for some time.”

Gunn wiped his brow with a sleeve. “Count me out. But I would like to drag Dirk and Summer back with me to help report on the events that took place.” Gunn reached for his travel bag. “That reminds me, I have a package for you two that I was asked to deliver.”

He rummaged in his bag and retrieved a thin box, which he handed to Summer. She opened it and removed a lengthy handwritten letter clipped to a leather-bound journal.

As she skimmed the letter, Dirk eyed the box and noted the return address. “It’s from Perlmutter. What does St. Julien have to say?”

“He says we’re not going back to Washington with Rudi,” Summer said, looking at her father with persuasive eyes. “Instead, we’re to take a trip to Tierra del Fuego.”