Qin Shang was breathing quickly, his mouth a thin white line. "No, when he returns to Washington."

"How can you be sure he'll go straight to the American capital?"

"Unlike you, Su Zhong, who can read people from photographs, I've studied the man's history from the time he was born until he devastated my operation at Orion Lake. Trust me when I say he will return to his home at the first opportunity."

Su Zhong shuddered slightly, knowing what was about to come. "Are you speaking of the aircraft hangar where he lives with his old car collection?"

"Exactly," Qin Shang hissed like a serpent. "Pitt will watch in horror as his precious automobiles go up in flames. I may even take the time and watch him burn with them."

"Your calendar does not put you in Washington next week. You're scheduled for meetings with your company directors in Hong Kong and government officials in Beijing."

"Cancel them," Shang said with an indifferent wave of one hand. "Set up meetings with my friends in Congress. Also arrange a meeting with the President. It's time I soothed any misgivings they might have about Sungari." He paused, and his lips tightened in a sinister smile. "Besides, I think it appropriate that I be on hand when Sungari becomes the premier shipping port in North America."

AS THE SUN ROSE THE OREGON BOUNDED ACROSS A CALM SEA under clear skies at a speed of thirty knots. With her ballast tanks pumped dry to raise her hull out of the water to reduce drag, she made a strange sight with her stern dug deep in water thrashed white by wildly turning screws, her bows lifted nearly free of the troughs before bursting aside the crest of the next rolling swell. During the night the cargo deck had been cleared of debris while the ship's surgeon worked nonstop to bind wounds and operate on those who were seriously injured. The Oregon lost only one man, who had the misfortune of being struck hi the head by fragments from the hundred-millimeter shell when it smashed into the upper section of the stern. None of the wounded were critical. The surgeon also managed to save all but six of the Chinese marines. Both officers had died and were dropped over the side with their men who had not survived.

The women who served aboard the Oregon quickly turned into angels of mercy, assisting the surgeon and tending to the wounded. Pitt's unlucky curse held tight. Instead of an attractive nurse to bandage his hip wound, his luck of the draw was the ship's quartermaster or mistress (her actual title in Cabrillo's corporate structure was supply and logistics coordinator), who stood six feet and weighed two hundred pounds if she weighed an ounce. Her name was Monica Crabtree, and she was as bright and resourceful as they came.

After she finished, she gave Pitt a slap on his exposed tail. "All finished. And may I say that you've got a nice set of buns."