“I am, too. He wasn't a bad sort for a Ukrainian. He was aware he was in a dangerous business, though. His family will be well-compensated.”

Austin told Petrov to take it easy, then he rose and walked to the thick wooden bulwark, the chin-high raised side that enclosed the uppermost deck. While he was scanning the harbor, Slade returned.

“Mission accomplished,” he said. “The tug crew will notify the Coast Guard and the police harbor patrol. They'll ask them to send some EMTs over to take care of your friend. How's he doing?”

“He'll live. A half an inch lower and he would have lost some brain power.”

“Is he with NUMA, too?”

“He's a Russian trade representative from Siberian Pest Control.”

Slade gave him that funny look again. “What's he doing in Boston Harbor?”

“Looking for Siberian pests,” Austin said.

Slade noticed Austin peering back toward where the tugboat was nudged up against the stern of the ship.

“The tug pushed us away from the wharf,” Slade explained. “We were getting ready to raise sail after they got us into the outer harbor. We're supposed to do a run for the television cameras, then rendezvous with the tug and get a ride back to the navy yard.”

Austin was only half listening. He squinted into the darkness at the snarl of boat motors. The sound grew louder. Then he saw firefly points of light made by muzzle flashes.

Traveling in a line, three fast powerboats materialized and raced toward the stern of the sailing vessel. Then came the snap and whine of rounds ricocheting off the tugboat. Sparks exploded where the bullets struck the steel hull. The tugboat crew got over its surprise at being fired upon. With a roar of its engines, the tugboat went into reverse and headed off at full throttle. The boats circled the slower craft, riddling the wooden pilothouse with bullets. The tug slowed, traveled a few hundred feet before it stopped completely.

Austin clenched his fists in anger, helpless to prevent the cowardly attack on the innocent tugboat. He asked Slade to call the tug on his walkie-talkie. After several attempts, the sailor gave up. , “It's no use,” he said. “Damn, why'd they attack those guys?”

“They know the tug was our only propulsion.”

Although the boats were out of sight at the edge of darkness, Austin could hear their idling motors. Then he saw the gun flashes, followed by what sounded like a hundred woodpeckers attacking the ship. Slade tried to lean over the bulwark to check out the noise. Austin pulled him down on the deck.

“Jeez, those idiots are shooting at us!” Slade yelled. “Don't they know this is a national treasure?”

“We'll be fine,” Austin said. “Old lronsides stopped cannonballs. A little automatic gunfire isn't going to sink her.”

“I'm not worried about that. I don't want my crew hurt.”