Zhou saw Xao’s truck was finished unloading and the next truck in line was moving to take its place. He nodded at the officer and smiled. “Have a safe voyage,” he said, turning his back on the loading operations and walking away.

The officer looked at him oddly. “What about your truck?”

Zhou ignored the query, sauntering away from the dock until he vanished into the night.

Chapter 34

34

THE SEA ARROW’S PROPULSION MOTOR LOOKED like a stretch limousine driven through an oversized tire. The limousine part, in fact, was a rectangular induction housing that drew in water and expelled it through a trio of gimbaled exhaust outlets in the back. Just forward of it, at the motor’s midpoint, a donut-shaped nacelle contained the sophisticated jet pump that could push the submarine to high speeds. The entire motor was coated in a slippery black substance, which deflected water and gave the entire device a cold, futuristic appearance.

High overhead lights shined starkly on the prototype propulsion motor as a crane lifted it from its floor blocks and placed it on a large flatbed trailer. An army of workmen secured it with steel cables and covered it with canvas tarps. A semi-truck, operated by a company that specialized in hauling secure freight, was backed in and hitched to the trailer.

It was half past six in the morning when the truck pulled out of the Naval Research Laboratory’s facility at Chesapeake Beach, Maryland. As it drove inland from the bay, the surrounding woods and fields were damp with morning dew, while a leaden sky obscured the sunrise.

“What’s our ETA to Groton?” the codriver asked, suppressing a yawn.

The truck’s driver glanced at his watch. “The GPS says seven hours. Probably longer if we don’t beat the worst of the Beltway traffic.”

In the lightly populated region of southern Maryland, the early-morning traffic leading toward Washington was almost nonexistent. As they rounded a sweeping curve, the two men noticed a wisp of black smoke rising ahead. When it became apparent that the smoke originated from the road, the driver downshifted.

“Is that a car on fire?” his codriver asked.

“I think so. Looks like some old clunker.”

It was in fact a twenty-year-old Toyota Camry that had been severely wrecked at some point in its life. Now it sat in the middle of the road on four bald tires, flames sprouting from beneath its crumpled hood.

The truck driver eased the flatbed to a stop a few yards away and searched the road for victims. A white van was pulled off the road a short distance ahead, but there were no signs of life around it or the burning car.

“We better call this in,” the driver said as his partner reached behind the seat for a fire extinguisher.