Chapters (95)
- ALSO BY CLIVE CUSSLER
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT
- CONTENTS
- MAP
- PROLOGUE: BARBARIGO
- PART I: POSEIDON’S ARROW
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- PART II: RARE EARTH
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- PART III: PANAMA RUN
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- EPILOGUE: RED DEATH
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
A dank and musty odor rose from the opening. There was little to see as the dark interior was filled almost to the ceiling with sediment. Sand, mud, or mineral, they couldn’t tell. Dirk reached inside and groped around until he grabbed a clump of the material. He held it up for Summer to see.
It was a rock, dark yet shiny and lustrous. In the gray light of the rain squall, Summer could make out a reddish tint. “Is it Red Death?”
Dirk looked at the rock and grinned. “No. I think it would be Crimson Gold.”
Chapter 85
85
SIX MONTHS LATER
A THRONG OF DIGNITARIES AND NAVY VETERANS, nearly three thousand strong, poured through the gates of the New London Navy Base under a cool and cloudy sky. The visitors were guided to a dock where row upon row of folding chairs faced Connecticut’s Thames River.
Filling the view was the Navy’s latest fast attack submarine, the USS North Dakota. Having completed her sea trials, she was now awaiting the last formal act of commissioning before taking to the seas in service of her country.
Pitt and Loren threaded their way through the crowd to take their seats in the second row, behind a herd of fleet admirals in full-dress uniform. Eyeing the Navy brass, Pitt wondered if their prime seating was on account of his efforts to save the Sea Arrow or Loren’s clout on Capitol Hill. When the Chief of Naval Operations stopped by and fawned over his wife, he decided it was the latter.
A short time later, Vice President Sandecker arrived, led by a blockade of Pentagon officials. A trademark stogie dangled from his lips as he was ushered to a seat near the podium. Spotting Pitt and Loren, he slipped from his escorts and made his way to the couple.
“You’re looking ravishing as always, Loren,” he said, “despite the riffraff clinging to your arm.”
Loren laughed. “He still cleans up well. Good to see you again, Mr. Vice President.”
“Where are Summer and Dirk? I thought they’d be here.”
Loren raised her brow in curiosity.
“They’re both in Rome,” Pitt said. “The Italian government is holding a memorial for the Barbarigo’s crewmen recovered in Madagascar. The kids were invited as guests of honor.”
“We’d have been dead in the water if it weren’t for them,” Sandecker said. “Their discovery of the crew’s remains helped sway the Italians to give us the rare earth elements carried in the submarine. Kept us from having a one-trick pony today.” He winked at Pitt.
“Speaking of rare earth elements,” Loren said, “I heard a rumor on the Hill that the Chinese are lifting their export ban.”