“There are twenty-three burrows situated in a perfect circle in the seafloor about a mile from the central hole. My companion and I directed our minisub down one of these burrows. We became caught in an enormous turbine, which sucked our submersible into—”

“A turbine!” Teperman’s eyebrows raise again. “Incredible. What’s the turbine’s function?”

“I suspect ventilation. The minisub jammed the rotary blades during its intake phase. When the rotors reversed to drain the chamber, we were flushed back out to sea.”

Captain Loos reenters the briefing room, a smug look on his face. “We have a situation, Vice President Chaney, one that may explain a lot. It seems Dr. Rosen isn’t quite who he says he is. His real name is Michael Gabriel, and he escaped last week from a mental facility in Miami.”

Chaney and Marvin give Mick a cynical look.

Mick looks the VP squarely in the eye. “I’m not mentally deranged. I lied about my identity because the police are after me, but I’m not insane.”

Captain Loos reads from a fax. “Says here you’ve been incarcerated for the last eleven years after an incident involving Pierre Borgia.”

Chaney’s eyes grow wide. “Secretary of State Borgia?”

“Borgia verbally assaulted my father, humiliating him in front of an assembly of his peers. I lost control. Borgia manipulated the justice system. Instead of serving time for simple assault, he had me committed to an institution.”

Captain Loos hands Chaney the fax. “Mick’s father was Julius Gabriel.”

Marvin looks surprised. “Julius Gabriel, the archaeologist?”

The captains sneers. “More like the quack that tried to convince the scientific community that humanity was on the brink of destruction. I remember reading about it. His death made the cover of Time.”

Chaney looks up from reading the fax. “Like father, like son.”

“Maybe he was right,” Marvin mumbles.

The captain’s face turns red. “Julius Gabriel was a lunatic, Dr. Teperman, and, in my opinion, the acorn hasn’t fallen far from the tree. This man has wasted enough of our time.”

Mick stands, his temper flaring. “Everything I just told you is true—”

“Why don’t you drop the charade, Gabriel. We found your father’s journal in the minisub. The entire purpose of your story is to convince us—and the rest of the world—that your father’s ridiculous theories were true.”

The captain opens the door.

Two armed security guards enter.

“Mr.Vice President, unless you have some further use for this man, I’ve been instructed to throw him in the brig.”

“Instructed by whom?”

“Secretary Borgia, sir. He’s en route, as we speak.”

Sydney, Australia

The Dassault supersonic jet cruises over the South Pacific at twelve hundred miles per hour, its sleek design barely registering a ripple of turbulence. Although there are eight passenger seats within the three-engine, 104-foot double-delta winged plane, only three are occupied.