Sea of Fire

Chapter Twenty-One

Monica Loh's patrol boat hovered about the second nuclear waste site. This was where the Japanese government was allowed to deposit material. Tokyo was also free to assign space to other nations, provided they adhered to the International Nuclear Regulatory Commission codes.

The officer did not like coming to the Japanese site. She did not like going to any place controlled by the Japanese. It was a purely psychological reaction but a strong one. People of smaller nations in this region were inevitably caught in the backwash of history created by China and Japan. The Chinese were ambitious, organized, and insensitive. With over a billion people to feed and manage, Loh did not blame them for their totalitarian efficiency. She did not have the same sympathy for the Japanese. They were greedy rather than ambitious. They were domineering, not just organized. And they were cruel rather than insensitive. When the Chinese turned outward it was for land and resources to control. The Japanese looked for people to subjugate.

Singapore had its own forms of overkill. Laws were strict and punishment stricter. Dissent was permitted as long as sedition and abusive language were avoided. Work was hard, wages were low, and the government did not do enough to ease the burden of laborers. The ship-builders and oil refiners were the backbone of the economy. The government could not afford to alienate them. Since the bulk of the population was of Chinese heritage, they understood the rules. But Singaporeans had, at heart, a gentle nature. Their discomfort about the Japanese came partly from history lessons and partly from a clash of natures. They experienced it on the seas, in the harbors, in the banks, and on the stock exchanges. Whenever FNO Loh was around Japanese sailors, military or otherwise, she felt as though she was on high alert. Even tourists made her uneasy. They seemed to be collecting memories instead of enjoying them.

Loh watched from the deck as the sailors lowered their gear into the water. They were just a few meters ahead of her, port side. They worked in silence as they had been trained to do. Talk was a distraction in military operations. Still, every one of the officer's senses was stimulated. She smelled the oil and salt of the sea. She heard the slapping of the waves against the hull of the patrol ship. Spotlights fastened to the rail played across the water. The net containing the equipment seemed to lose pieces as it descended into the darkness between the bright, patchy crests of sea. A strong, temperate wind pushed at her from the northwest. Though the woman's world was the sea, she had always felt a kinship with the wind. It moved across the ocean, just like she did. It was silent. And it had changing moods that were only noticed by those who got in the way. The stars were partly hidden by high, wispy clouds. They reminded Loh of a waitress she had once seen in Bangkok. The woman had worn a white gown with sequins that sparkled in the light. Now that Loh thought of it, she knew as little about that waitress as she did about the heavens. The world was full of mysteries.

Loh was relaxed as the men and women worked. She did not care whether they found the site to be corrupted or intact. Even no information was information. She would deal with whatever they discovered. Though not a practicing Buddhist, Loh believed in the four noble truths it taught: that existence is suffering; that the cause of suffering is desire; that suffering eventually ends in a state of peace known as nirvana; and that the road to nirvana, the so-called eightfold noble path, consists of the qualities of right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. All of those skills did not come easily. And they required one thing above all.

Patience.

Loh had learned that quality by watching her father work on his cases. In the end, the perpetrator would be caught. It only remained to be seen how, when, and where.

After a few minutes, the young male specialist in charge of naval underwater systems jogged over to FNO Loh. He saluted.

"Ambient radiation levels are below normal at the site of the last deposit," he said. "Unless the coordinates are incorrect."

"There is no reason to believe they are," she said. "Go down and see what you can find."

"Ma'am," he said, saluting and turning.

It took just five minutes for the underwater unit to get into the sea. They carried a fluoroscopic scanner. If there were anything hot inside the stencil-dated concrete block, it would show up as a red pattern on the viewfinder.

Ten minutes later the three-person team reached the site. The block that had been deposited registered as cold. It contained no radioactive materials. FNO Loh unhooked the point-to-point radio from her belt. She contacted Warrant Officer Jelbart on the other vessel.

"Then the materials were off-loaded somewhere between the source and the drop-off point," Jelbart said.

"That is apparently the case," Loh agreed.

"And it's possible they were given to the vessel that was attacked by the sampan," Jelbart said.

"That is also likely," she said.

"We'll get the name and registry of the ship that made this drop," Jelbart told her. "Then we'll have a talk with the captain."

"That is worth doing," Loh said. "But I am betting you will not find the ship or the crew."

"What do you mean?" Jelbart asked. "The ship has to be registered."

"That is true," she said. "But that vessel probably has multiple registries. I am guessing they were notified when the sampan attacked their fellow ship. While they were still at sea, the vessel would have been rechristened and the hull repainted. I doubt very much that we will find it."

"Then we've learned nothing," Jelbart said. "Except for the fact that there is a great deal of nuclear waste somewhere in our corner of the world."

"That is not nothing," Loh said. "We will find it."

"I like your attitude. Any suggestions?" Jelbart asked.

"Just one," she said. "Have patience."