"You're a tough nut to crack, Admiral. If I hadn't said my call concerned Dirk Pitt, your secretary would never have arranged our connection.

"Who is this?" Sandecker demanded again.

"My name is Sal Casio. I'm working on the Bougainville case with Dirk."

Ten minutes later, when Sandecker walked back into Emmett's office, he appeared stunned and shaken. Brogan instantly sensed something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked. "You look like you've rubbed shoulders with a banshee."

"The barge," Sandecker murmured quietly. "The Bougainvilles have struck a deal with Moran. They're taking it out into the open sea to be scuttled."

"What are you saying?"

"Loren Smith and Vince Margolin are sentenced to die so Alan Moran can be President. The barge is to be their tomb in 70 fathoms of water."

"ANY SIGN OF PURSUIT?" the river pilot asked, synchronizing the control levers of the helm console with the finesse of a conductor leading an orchestra.

Lee Tong stepped back from the large open window at the rear of the pilothouse and lowered the binoculars. "Nothing except a strange cloud of black smoke about two or three miles astern."

"Probably an oil fire."

"Seems to be following."

"An illusion. The river has a habit of doing weird things to the eyes. What looks to be a mile away is four. Lights where no lights are supposed to be. Ships approaching in a channel that fade away as you get closer. Yes, the river can fool you when she gets playful."

Lee Tong gazed up the channel again. He had learned to tune out the pilot's never-ending commentary on the Mississippi, but he admired his skill and experience.

Captain Kim Puion was a longtime professional river pilot for Bougainville Maritime Lines, but he still retained his Asian superstitious nature. He seldom took his eyes off the channel and the barge ahead as he expertly balanced the speeds of the four engines generating 12,000 horsepower and delicately guided the towboat's four forward rudders and six backing rudders. Under his feet the huge diesels pounded over at full power, driving the barge through the water at nearly sixteen miles an hour, straining the cables that held the two vessels together.

They hurtled past an inbound Swedish oil tanker, and Lee Tong braced himself as the barge and towboat swept up and over the wash.

"How much further to deep water?"

"Our hull passed from fresh to salt about ten miles back. We should cross the coastal shallows in another fifty minutes."

"Keep your eyes open for a research ship with a red hull and flying the British blue ensign."

"We're boarding a Royal Navy ship after we scuttle?" Pujon asked in surprise.

"A former Norwegian merchantman," explained Lee Tong. "i purchased her seven years ago and refitted her out as a research and survey vessel-a handy disguise to fool customs authorities and the Coast Guard."

"Let us hope it fools whoever chases after us."