"There is big money in alien smuggling alone," said Gunn. "One thousand illegals brought in on one boat and ferried across the country at thirty thousand dollars a head, and you're talking real money."

"Ah" right, if Sungari is a front for immigrant smuggling," said Montaigne, "I'd be interested in knowing how Qin Shang is going to get the immigrants and goods from point A to point B without some sort of underground transportation system. U.S. Customs and Immigration comb every ship docking at Sungari. All barge traffic inland is carefully monitored. It would be impossible for undocumented aliens to slip through their fingers."

"The reason NUMA is here." Gunn picked up a metal pointer and tapped the point inside the image of the Atchafa-laya River that divided Sungari East from Sungari West. "Because there is no way for him to send human and drug cargo over land and water, he must be shipping them under the surface."

Montaigne sat erect and stared at Gunn through skeptical eyes. "By submarine?"

"Submarines capable of carrying large numbers of passengers and cargo are a possibility we can't ignore."

"Forgive me for saying so, but there is no way in hell you can get a submarine up the Atchafalaya River. The shoals and bends are a nightmare for experienced river pilots. Navigating below the surface upriver against the current is unthinkable."

"Then perhaps Shang's engineers have carved out hidden underwater-passage systems that we're not aware of."

Montaigne gave a negative shake of his head. "No way they could have excavated a tunnel network without discovery. Government building experts scrutinized every square inch of the site during construction to make sure the approved plans were followed to the letter. Qin Shang's contractors were incredibly cooperative and either complied with our criticisms or took as gospel any and all suggested changes without argument. In the end it was almost as if we had all been in on the design stage. If Qin Shang dug a tunnel under the noses of men and women whom I consider the best engineering and structural inspectors in the South, he could get himself elected Pope."

Gunn held up a pitcher and a glass. "Can I interest you in a glass of iced tea?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a bottle of bourbon lying about?"

Gunn smiled. "Admiral Sandecker follows Navy tradition and has a rule against alcohol on board NUMA research vessels. However, in honor of your presence, I do believe a bottle of Jack Daniels' Black Label whiskey somehow slipped on board."

"You, sir, are a saint," said Montaigne, his eyes gleaming in anticipation.

Gunn poured a glass. "Ice?"

"Never!" Montaigne held up the glass and studied the amber contents, then sniffed the aroma as if pondering a fine wine before sipping it. "Because nothing suspicious was observed above ground, I was told at my briefing that you're going to try your luck with an underwater search."