Monica Loh knew that the search for Jervis Darling's vessel was probably hopeless.
The Singaporean patrol boat was moving at top speed toward the area. It was listening for the ship in a continuous sweep of all radio frequencies. The chopper was watching for the vessel. But a boat running silent and probably dark would be virtually impossible to find at night. Radar was unreliable due to the sheer number of hits they picked up: not just boats but reefs, sea creatures on the surface, even large waves. Modern equipment was occasionally too sensitive to be useful. She was guessing that by daybreak it would be gone completely. And with the ship hidden, they would lose their best chance to track this action to Darling and find the missing nuclear waste.
Jelbart was on the radio with his home base. When he was finished, the pilot contacted the RAAF Airfield Defence Squadron satellite base in Cooktown. That was the nearest refueling point in the region.
FNO Loh did not feel comfortable about the new world in which they were living. She did not yearn for a simpler era. Nor did she doubt her skills or those of her shipmates. They were smart and disciplined. What worried her were the agents who had joined groups like Interpol or the CIA because it seemed glamorous. Many of them did not expect nor ask for the grievous responsibility that had been placed on their backs. Loh hoped their efforts here would be an example to others rather than an exception. The civilized world did not have time to accommodate long apprenticeships.
"I just spoke with General Hopkins," the pilot informed the group. "He'll let us refuel there. That gives us ninety minutes of flying time. How do you want to spend it?"
"Warrant Officer, that's your call," Herbert said.
"I suggest we follow the reef northeast," Jelbart said. "HQ said that Darling's property holdings are mostly in the south and west. That would be out of reach for his boat. And his cove is completely open. My guess is he'll make a run for the open sea and a foreign port."
"Perhaps the same port that swallowed the Malaysian vessel," FNO Loh suggested.
"That's a reasonable guess," Jelbart admitted. "So we'll head north, which we'll have to do to reach Cooktown. Then we'll swing out toward the sea in a tight Z pattern and hope we spot our prey."
"Sirs, General Hopkins has also offered to launch a pair of A3 Mirage fighters if we need them for surveillance," the pilot added.
Loh waited to see Jelbart's response. The need for absolute security, to keep any leaks from Darling, versus the need for information.
"It's getting too late in the day for overcaution," Jelbart said. "Thank the general and say we would welcome the help. I'll have a look at the map and give him the air routes we'd like covered."
"Yes, sir," the pilot replied.
"I'll notify my patrol boat of our plan," Loh said.
Jelbart passed the headset back to her while he took a look at the flight book.
"I wonder if their base might be a tanker of some sort," Herbert thought aloud. "Something mobile."
"And protectable," Jelbart said. "Something that large could be a floating SCUD bank."
"It sure would be a helluva delivery platform for nuclear-tipped missiles," Herbert agreed. "Hell, there isn't a port on earth tankers don't visit."
Loh listened to the men as she placed her call. She hoped they were mistaken. It was bad enough contemplating the damage petty despots could do with intermediate-range missiles. Add money and international political clout, and there was no limit to the potential subterfuge.
Even if Herbert and Jelbart were wrong this time, they might not be wrong the next time. Or the time after that. Things were going to have to change radically in the way the military and intelligence services did business.
Fortunately, Loh had an idea where they might start. With a resource that was already in their lap.