“We’re still not certain how he was able to escape from the brig. The lock shows some signs of tampering, but nothing significant. Our best guess is that someone freed him.”

“Was it the girl?”

“No, sir. She suffered a concussion and was in sick bay, unconscious. We’re still conducting a full investigation.”

“And how did he manage to get off this ship?”

“Probably hitched a ride on an EVAC. They were coming and going all day.”

Borgia gives the captain a cold stare. “I hope you don’t run your ship like you guard your prisoners, Captain.”

Loos returns the look. “I’m not running a baby-sitting service, Mr.Secretary. I seriously doubt one of my men would risk a future in prison to free your nutcase.”

“Who else could have released him?”

“I don’t know. We have teams of scientists on board, new ones arriving every day. Could have been one of them, or even someone from the vice president’s party.”

Borgia’s eyebrows raise.

“As I said, we’re still conducting a full investigation. We’ve also alerted the Mexican police about Gabriel’s escape.”

“They’ll never find him. Gabriel has too many friends in the Yucatan. What about the girl? What does she know about the alien object?”

“She claims the only thing she can remember is her minisub being sucked down a tunnel. One of our geologists has her convinced that her vessel was caught in the currents of a lava tube, created by a dormant, subterranean volcano that’s becoming active again.” Loos smiles. “He explained the glow as being caused by a subterranean lava field that can be seen as it flows past the pit in the seafloor. Even showed her a few doctored infrared satellite shots of the whirlpool, claiming the vortex was caused by the collapse of subterranean pockets beneath the seafloor. She believes this is what sunk her father’s boat, killing him and his two friends.”

“Where is she now?”

“Sick bay.”

“Give me a few minutes to speak with the psychiatric director alone, then bring the girl in. While we’re speaking with her, have this sewn into the lining of her clothes.” He hands Loos a tiny device the size of a watch battery.

“A tracking device?”

“A gift from the NSA. Oh, and Captain, when you bring the girl to see me, have her in handcuffs.”

Two armed sailors lead a shackled and unnerved Dominique Vazquez through several tight corridors, then up three flights to a cabin labeled CAPTAIN’S BRIEFING ROOM. One of the guards knocks, then opens the door and leads her inside. Dominique enters the small conference room. “Oh, God—” Anthony Foletta looks up from the conference table and smiles. “Intern Vazquez, come in.” The gravelly voice has a fatherly tone. “Mr.Secretary, are the handcuffs really necessary?”