“What about attacks in marine parks?” Kurt said.

“Those are whales that are held in captivity and put under pressure to perform. They get angry at being cooped up and overworked, and sometimes they take out their frustrations on the trainers. There have been a few cases in the wild where an orca has grabbed a surfboard, thinking it's a seal. Once they discover their mistake, they've spit the surfer out.”

“I guess the whale I encountered didn't like my face,” Austin said with dry humor.

Rowland smiled, thinking that with his bronzed features and intense, light blue eyes, Austin was one of the most attractive men she had ever met. “I don't think that's the case. If an orca didn't like your face, you wouldn't have one. I've seen a whale toss round a five-hundred-pound sea lion as if it were a rag doll. I'll see if there is any video coverage of the incident.”

“That shouldn't be a problem, with all the cameras focused on the race,” Kurt said, “Is there anything you could think of that would stir up the whales and make them more aggressive?”

She shook her head. “Orcas have extremely fine-tuned sensing systems. If something gets out of whack, they might want to take it out on the nearest object.”

“Like the overworked whales in the marine parks?”

“Maybe. I'll talk to some cetologists and see what they have to say.” She rose and thanked the two men for their time. After she left, Austin's father went to pour another round, but Kurt put his hand over the glass.

“I know what you're doing, you old fox. You're trying to shanghai me onto one of your salvage ships.”

Kurt Senior had made no secret of his desire to lure his son from NUMA and bring him back into the family business. Kurt's decision to stay with NUMA rather than take over the reins of the business had been a sore point between the two men. Through the years, what had been a bitter source of friction became a family joke.

“You're turning into a sissy,” Austin said with mock disgust. “You've got to admit that NUMA hasn't cornered the market on excitement.”

“I've told you before, Pop. It's not all about excitement.”

“Yeah, I know. Duty to country and all that. Worst thing is, I can't blame Sandecker anymore for keeping you in Washington now that he's vice president. What are your plans?”

“I'll stick around a couple more days. I've got to order a new kayak. What about you?”

“Got a big job raising a sunken fishing boat off Hanes, Alaska. Want to come along? I could use you.”

“Thanks, but I'm sure you can handle the project yourself.”

“Can't blame me for trying. Okay, then, I'll buy dinner.”