Then something moved in the shadows. At first he merely thought it was a fish, but then it moved up from the black of the cargo hold and materialized into an unspeakable monstrosity, an apparition that belonged in another world. Slowly it rose, as if levitated in air, like some hideous creature from the murky abyss, and moved toward the submersible.

On the surface, Captain Chen Jiang stared with mounting apprehension as the research vessel he'd sighted earlier had turned on a ninety-degree course and was now facing the Jade Adventurer. Abruptly presenting its bows after having showed its starboard broadside, the research vessel now revealed a United States Coast Guard cutter that it had shielded from view. Now both vessels were traveling at full speed directly toward the Chinese salvage ship.

QIN SHANG LOOKED LIKE A MAN WHO HAD SEEN THE DEEPEST pit in hell and wanted no part of it. His face was as white and rigid as hardened putty. Sweat streamed from his forehead, his eyes glazed with shock. For a man totally in control of his emotions during his entire life, he was suddenly paralyzed. He stared awestruck at the face inside the bubble-shaped head of the yellow and black monster as it broke into a ghastly grin. And then he recognized the familiar features.

"Pitt!" he gasped in a rasping whisper.

"Yes, it's me," Pitt answered over his underwater communications system inside the Newtsuit. "You do hear me, don't you, Qin Shang?"

The trauma of disbelief, then revulsion at who the apparition was, released a flow of venom in Qin Shang's veins as shock turned into crazed wrath. "I hear you," he said slowly, his thoughts coming back under his iron control. He did not demand to know where Pitt came from or what he was doing here. There was only one question in Qin Shang's mind.

"Where is the treasure?"

"Treasure," Pitt said, his face taking on a witless expression behind the transparent bubble on the globular helmet of the Newtsuit. "I ain't got no treasure."

"What has happened to it?" Qin Shang demanded, his eyes sick with the cold realization of defeat. "What have you done with the historical masterworks of my country?"

"Put it all in a place where it's safe from scum like you who want it all to themselves."

"How?" he asked simply.