Sea of Fire

Chapter Eighteen

When Lowell Coffey was eight years old, something wonderful happened. His father took him to see the circus in Sherman Oaks. What was most memorable, however, was not the show itself. What Coffey remembered best was sticking around to see the circus being broken down. The deconstruction had been a mesmerizing sight, awe-some in its scope and complexity.

The departure of the Singaporean and Australian ships from Darwin reminded Coffey of that. Banners flying and large vessels setting out. Instead of roustabouts, sailors were putting the big machine in motion. Instead of elephants, there were helicopters and motorboats being moved into position. Instead of the smell of horses and sawdust, there were diesel fuel and ocean air. The scope and logistics of both were memorable. There were, however, two major differences. After the circus was packed and moving, the young Lowell Coffey had gone home with his father. The boy had felt sad and disconnected. This morning, the adult Lowell Coffey had gone with the seagoing convoy. He felt plugged into a great and powerful enterprise. It was invigorating.

For about three minutes.

Unfortunately, the adult Lowell Coffey was also desperately nauseated. He was sick from his high, hammering forehead down through his vacant gaze to his sloshing stomach. Even the joints of his knees felt as if they were rolling in their sockets. And the attorney was sitting down.

Coffey was on the small, claustrophobic bridge of the MIC corvette. George Jelbart was in command and seated in a swivel chair to his right. The medic had given Coffey two dimenhydrinate tablets, a generic form of Drama-mine. It did not make Coffey feel better, but at least he got no worse. There was only one exception. Whenever Warrant Officer Jelbart swiveled in his seat, Coffey tasted his own breakfast for a moment. There was something very disorienting about the officer's side-to-side movement.

The swift, modern warship had departed Darwin minutes after Loh's patrol boat had set out. Ellsworth did not join them. He had gone back to his office after intensive dockside discussions about how to manage this joint investigation. Since this was Loh's plan, it was agreed that she and her crew would conduct the initial phase. Jelbart would lend whatever support was necessary in terms of equipment, manpower, or technical capabilities. Coffey had told them that Op-Center's intelligence chief, Bob Herbert, was coming to Darwin. Herbert would be prepared to assist with analysis of whatever they did or did not find at sea. Ellsworth had been happy to hear about the NCMC's involvement. He was grateful for the intelligence resources, of course. But Ellsworth was more interested in America's support. This could turn out to be an isolated incident, in which case everyone would be relieved. If it were something else, though, the more weight Ellsworth had behind him, the happier he would be.

Jelbart removed the small, compact headset he was wearing. He hung it around his neck. "How are you doing there, Mr. Coffey?" he asked.

"The situation has stabilized somewhat," he said with a weak smile. He looked down. Unlike the horizon, the floor of the bridge was not moving. Attorneys were meant to be in quiet wood-paneled offices where the only movement was the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

"You'll get used to it," Jelbart promised. "By the time we get back to Darwin, it will feel unnatural to be on ground that doesn't move."

Coffey had to take that on faith. Right now it did not seem plausible.

The radio operator leaned in. He was located in a cubicle just off the main control center.

"Sir?" he said. "Incoming from FNO Loh."

Jelbart slipped the headset back on. He adjusted the mouthpiece. "Jelbart here," he said.

"We have reached the target area," she said.

Jelbart glanced at the control panel. There was a small black monitor to his right. It had an electronic grid overlay in light blue. Ships were red dots. Jelbart had previously explained to Coffey that this was an adjustable global positioning display. They could pull back as far as five hundred square kilometers or move in as tight as ten square kilometers. The area currently being displayed was twenty square kilometers.

Jelbart turned to his right. "Helm?"

"Yes, sir," said one of the two men seated there.

"Coordinates ten-five-nine west, three-four-two north," Jelbart said, reading from the grid. "Backwater standby, on command."

The helmsman repeated the coordinates, acknowledged the command, and set the course accordingly.

Coffey looked up. He was confused. "I can see them out the window," he said. "Why don't you just follow them?"

"We have been," Jelbart told him. "But if something happens to officer Loh's vessel and we lose visual contact, we want our computer to know exactly where they are."

"I see," Coffey replied. It was an unpleasant thought but a practical one.

The Singaporean patrol boat came to a complete stop. Jelbart ordered the corvette to half speed. He came alongside the other vessel, keeping 300 meters to port. After a moment, the corvette stopped. With one axis of motion removed, Coffey immediately felt a little better. Able to look out now without feeling sick, the attorney watched the prow of the Singaporean vessel. Using fishing nets, sailors had lowered several black boxes into the water. They looked like laptop computers.

"What are those?" Coffey asked.

"They're grannies," Jelbart replied. "Gamma ray and neutron irradiation saturation detectors. I learned about them in the physics course MIC gave its personnel. Impressive little units."

"What do they tell us?" Coffey asked.

"The kinds of materials we are searching for give off three kinds of radiation," Jelbart said. "Alpha particles, beta particles, and gamma rays. Gamma rays are the most powerful. Even mild doses can cook your insides. That's the first thing you want to detect."

"If the sampan encountered gamma radiation, the sailor would not be alive," Coffey suggested.

"Possibly. He may not have been exposed to the mother lode. It's good to keep a watch out for it. That's also the reason I gave the backwater standby command. In case we have to get out of here in a hurry."

"I like that option," Coffey said.

"Neutron irradiation tells you something about the elements involved and the size of the nuclear sample," Jelbart went on. "Officer Loh checked with the INRC to determine the size of the drums deposited out here. There is always trace radiation, however tightly these things are secured."

"That's reassuring," Coffey said.

"The levels are not dangerous unless exposure is cumulative," Jelbart added. "That's one reason to put it out to sea or deep in caves."

"What about the ecological impact?" Coffey asked.

"The fish are tested regularly. As long as they aren't affected, I don't think anyone in the area cares very much," Jelbart said. "The point is, given the time the last vessels were here and the amount they off-loaded, Officer Loh knows exactly what the readings should be."

"What was the last ship to come out here?" Coffey asked.

The computer monitor was located in front of Coffey. Jelbart swung toward it. His swivel was quick and unsettling. The attorney looked down and took a slow, deep breath to try to get his balance back.

"The last vessel to visit here was a Chinese freighter with four twelve-gallon drums of material from a nuclear power plant outside of Shanghai," Jelbart said. "Before that it was a cutter owned by International Spent Fuel Transport out of Malaysia. They deposited three ten-gallon drums of material from a Japanese nuclear power plant. No one was out here for ten days prior to that."

"How will we be able to tell them apart?" Coffey asked.

"They each have a specific drop point," Jelbart replied. "The coordinates Loh sent us represent the Chinese site."

"I see," Coffey said. "I'm still unclear about one thing, though. What does she hope to find? If one of these ships were damaged, wouldn't someone have been notified?"

"Possibly," Jelbart said. "What concerns us is that one of the vessels may have transferred their cargo to another ship. That other ship may have been the one the pirates attacked."

"What do you do if that scenario pans out? Go after the vessel?"

"I don't know," Jelbart replied.

"You don't know? Wouldn't that be a logical step?" Coffey asked.

"Perhaps," Jelbart told him. "It could also tip off whoever has the nuclear material. It might be more prudent to try to find that material, then go back and clean up the relay team itself."

"Doesn't the MIC have simulations and playbooks for this sort of thing?" Coffey asked.

"We have search patterns and seizure protocols, yes," Jelbart replied. "When it comes to tracking radioactive cargo, we're in unfamiliar territory. Just as America has been. The only nuclear materials we've actually hunted were two warheads missing from the Soviet Union's Strategic Rocket Forces. One was from a facility in Kazakhstan, the other from Belarus."

"Did you find them?" Coffey asked.

"The Russians eventually did," Jelbart replied. "There were indications that the warheads had been purchased by Indonesian rebels. Perhaps they were, but delivery was never made. The weapons had actually been moved to a cave in the Ukraine. Russian engineers and physicists hired by a retired general were in the process of dismantling them."

"Lovely," Coffey said.

"We try to rebuild Eden, but the snakes are always there, more persistent than ever," Jelbart said.

"They've had a lot of time to study us from the underbrush," Coffey observed.

"Too true," Jelbart said. "The other thing about this mission, Mr. Coffey, is that we have a partner." He nodded toward the Singaporean vessel. "We don't know how porous their command center might be. We don't know how many secrets we'll be comfortable sharing."

"I wonder if she feels the same," Coffey said.

"Almost certainly," Jelbart said. "Though with her it's as much a cultural issue as a political one. The Singaporeans are aggressively private."

"That's an oxymoron. I'll have to think about it," Coffey remarked.

"You'll see what I mean when you spend more time with FNO Loh," Jelbart promised.

It also sounded racist. Coffey hated even benign generalizations like that. He would try not to hold that against Jelbart.

Ten minutes after the search had begun, Loh radioed that the Chinese site was registering the anticipated levels of ambient radiation. She provided the coordinates for the next site. The patrol boat moved on.

So did the corvette.

And so, once again, did Coffey's stomach.