“Doesn’t make sense someone would hijack a ship over it.”

“Personally, I’d go for a freighter full of iPads.”

“Any theories on where our thieves may have run to?”

“Not really. I took the coordinates you gave me where the ship changed course, but I came up dry. NRO satellite images were a week old. That’s a dead part of the Pacific. It doesn’t garner much attention from the spies in the sky.”

“Tapping the National Reconnaissance Office? I hope you didn’t leave any footprints.”

An accomplished hacker when circumstances dictated, Yaeger feigned insult. “Footprints, me? Should anyone even notice the intrusion, I’m afraid the trail leads to my favorite Hollywood celebrity gossip website.”

“A true shame if the government were to shut that down.”

“My sentiments precisely. I do have a theory, though, about the Tasmanian Star’s appearance in Valparaiso.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

“The ship made an abrupt southerly turn nine days ago, some seventeen hundred miles west of Costa Rica. One of our free-floating weather buoys bit the dust in that area of the Pacific about the same time. Turns out, a pretty significant tropical storm blew through that area, although it petered out by the time it hit Mexico. We recorded force 9 winds before we lost the buoy.”

“So our pirates may have had to abandon their heist in a hurry.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Maybe that’s why they left most of the cargo, and left the engine running.”

Pitt thought for a moment. “Are there are any islands in the area?”

Yaeger pulled out a tablet computer and called up a map of the area where the ship’s course changed.

“There’s a small atoll called Clipperton Island. It’s only about twenty miles from the position you gave me . . . and dead-on along that same heading.” He looked at Pitt and shook his head. “Nice deduction.”

“They didn’t have time to flood her, so they probably set her on a course toward Clipperton, assuming she’d founder on the reef and disappear.”

“Only the storm blew her clear of the island,” Yaeger said, “and she kept on sailing for another four thousand miles until arriving in Valparaiso.”

Pitt took a sip of coffee. “That still doesn’t put us any closer to who attacked the ship and disposed of the crew.”

“I’ve searched for port documents showing recent shipments of bauxite, but nothing’s surfaced.”

“And it probably won’t. Hiram, see if you can find mention of any other pirate attacks—or lost ships, for that matter—that have occurred recently in the Pacific. And one more favor.” Pitt picked up the silver rock and tossed it to Yaeger. “I picked this up on the Tasmanian Star. On your way back to the computer center, drop this off with the boys in subsea geology and have them tell us what it is.”