"I don't like it either," Pitt said quietly. "Every logical avenue winds up in a cul-de-sac. Even this talk about treasure is meaningless. I tried to bait von Till into admitting he was after treasure, but the wily old bastard offered no indication of interest. He's trying to hide something, but it's not sunken gold bullion or lost diamonds." He broke off and pointed out a porthole across the sea where Thasos slept under the rising heat waves. "The solution lies elsewhere, either near the island, or on it, or maybe both. We'll soon know more when Gunn raises the Albatros and its occupant."

Giordino, both hands clasped behind his head, leaned his chair back on two legs. "By all rights, we could leave now and be back in Washington this time tomorrow. Since the mysterious renegade plane is destroyed, and we know who instigated the accidents on board the First Attempt, things should settle back to normal. I see no reason why we can't pack up and head for home." He threw Lewis an indifferent look. "I'm certain the colonel can handle any further emergencies that might crop up on Brady Field."

"You can't leave now!" Lewis was sweating heavily, his breath in gasps, barely controlling his temper. "I'll contact Admiral Sandecker and have…"

"Don't worry, Colonel," Gunn interrupted from the doorway. He had pushed the cabin door open silently and now stood leaning against the bulkhead. "Major Pitt and Captain Giordino won't be leaving Thasos just yet."

Pitt looked up quickly, expectantly. There was no elated expression on Gunn's face, it merely reflected a mixture of blank nothingness and dejection. It was the face of a man who ceased to care. The small bone structure showed through the shoulders, drooped from exhaustion, and the skin glistened with drops of salt water that clung to the body hair in tiny droplets. He wore nothing but the ever present horn-rimmed glasses and a European-style black bikini that did little to enhance the slender frame it covered. Four straight hours of diving had left Gunn exhausted, every bone, every muscle begging for relief.

"Sorry sir," Gunn mumbled softly. "Bad news I'm afraid."

"For God's sake, Rudi," Pitt asked, "what is it? Weren't you able to raise the plane and recover the pilot's body?"

Gunn shrugged his thin shoulders. "Neither."

"As bad as that?" Pitt queried, voice and face deadly serious.

"Worse," Gunn replied grimly.

"Let's have it."

For almost thirty seconds, Gunn remained silent. The others in the cabin could hear the faint creaking noises of the ship, rolling in the gentle swells of the Mediterranean, and see the tightening of Gunn's mouth.

"Believe me, we tried," Gunn said wearily. "We used every underwater search trick in the book, but we couldn't locate the wreck." He gestured helplessly with his hands. "It was gone, vanished, God knows where."

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