She looked an immaculately kept museum piece. On the ensign staff at her stern she flew the American stars and stripes in the inverted position of distress.

Pokofsky walked over to the automated ship's control console and pressed the "slow speed" switch. Almost immediately he could feel the engines reduce revolutions. Then, waiting a few minutes until the ship had slowed to a crawl, he leaned over and pressed the lever for "all stop."

He was about to walk out on the bridge wing when his first officer came hurrying up the companionway from the deck below.

"Captain," he said, catching his breath. "I've just come from the brig area. The prisoners are gone."

Pokofsky straightened. "Gone? You mean escaped?"

"Yes, sir. I was on a routine inspection when I found the two security guards unconscious and locked up in one of the cells. The KGB agent is dead."

"Paul Suvorov was killed?"

The first officer nodded. "From all appearances, he was strangled."

"Why didn't you call me immediately over the ship's phone?"

"I thought it best to tell you in person."

"You're right, of course," Pokofsky admitted. "This couldn't have come at a worse time. Our Cuban security people are arriving to transport the prisoners to shore."

"If you can stall them, I'm confident a search effort will quickly turn up the Americans."

Pokofsky stared through the doorway at the closing boat. "They'll wait," he said confidently. "Our captives are too important to leave onboard."

"There is one other thing, sir," said the first officer. "The Americans must have received help."

"They didn't break out by themselves?" Pokofsky asked in surprise.

"Not possible. Two old men in a weakened condition and one woman could never have overpowered two security people and murdered a professional KGB man."

"Damn!" Pokofsky cursed. He rammed a fist into a palm in exasperation, compounded equally by anxiety and anger. "This complicates matters."

"Could the CIA have sneaked onboard?"

"I hardly think so. If the United States government remotely suspected their government leaders were held on the Leonin Andreyev, their Navy would be converging on us like mad bears.

See for yourself; no ships, no aircraft, and the Guantanamo Bay naval station is only forty miles away."

"Then who?" asked the first officer. "Certainly none of our crew.

"It can only be a passenger," Pokofsky surmised. He fell silent, thinking. Utter stillness fell on the bridge. At last he looked up and began issuing orders. "Collect every available officer and form five-man search parties. Divine up the ship in sections from keel to sun deck. Alert the security guards and enlist the stewards. If questioned by the passengers, make up a believable pretext for entering their cabins. Changing the bed linen, repairing plumbing, inspecting fire equipment, any story that fits the situation. Say or do nothing that will cause suspicion among the passengers or set them to asking embarrassing questions. Be as subtle as possible and refrain from violence, but recapture the Smith woman and the two men quickly."