Without answering, the wiry, deeply tanned doctor closed a large worn leather case, turned and ducked down the bridge ladder.

Pitt drew back from the railing and glanced over at Gunn. "Are you connected?"

"Say when." Gunn was tense, but looked ready and eager. He held a small black box in his hand attached to a wire that led up the radar mast and then into the brilliant morning sky. "Do you think the pilot of the old contraption will take the bait?"

"History never fails to repeat itself," Pitt said confidently, glaring at the nearing plane.

Even in this moment of tense anxiety Gunn found time to marvel at Pitt's complete transformation since dawn: the man who staggered on board the First Attempt in such fearful physical condition was not the same man who now stood on the bridge with gleaming eyes and the expectant posture of a warhorse inhaling the scent of battle through flaring nostrils. It seemed strange, but Gunn couldn't stop his mind from drifting back many months ago to the bridge of another ship, a tramp steamer called the Dana Gail. He remembered as though it was only an hour ago seeing the same expression on Pitt's face just before the old rusty hulk cast off to find and destroy a mysterious seamount in the Pacific, north of Hawaii. Abruptly he was pulled back to the reality of the present by a strong grip on his arm.

"Get down," Pitt said urgently, "or the shock wave will blow you overboard. Be ready to join the contacts the instant I give the word."

The bright yellow plane was banking now, circling around the ship, testing it for defenses. The drone of its noisy engine tore across the water, causing a vibration in Pitt's eardrums. He watched it through a pair of borrowed binoculars, smiling with satisfaction as he noted small round patches in the fabric of the wings and fuselage; a record of Giordino's hits with the carbine. Moving the glasses in a near vertical angle he focused on the black wire that led upward, and all at once he felt a hope that began to amount to complete conviction.

"Steady…steady," he said quietly. "I think he's going to nibble at the cheese."