“I’ll notify my patrol boat of our plan,” Loh said.

Jelbart passed the headset back to her while he took a look at the flight book.

“I wonder if their base might be a tanker of some sort,” Herbert thought aloud. “Something mobile.”

“And protectable,” Jelbart said. “Something that large could be a floating SCUD bank.”

“It sure would be a helluva delivery platform for nuclear-tipped missiles,” Herbert agreed. “Hell, there isn’t a port on earth tankers don’t visit.”

Loh listened to the men as she placed her call. She hoped they were mistaken. It was bad enough contemplating the damage petty despots could do with intermediate-range missiles. Add money and international political clout, and there was no limit to the potential subterfuge.

Even if Herbert and Jelbart were wrong this time, they might not be wrong the next time. Or the time after that. Things were going to have to change radically in the way the military and intelligence services did business.

Fortunately, Loh had an idea where they might start. With a resource that was already in their lap.

FIFTY-SEVEN - The Coral Sea Sunday, 2:09 A.M.

FIFTY-SEVEN

The Coral Sea Sunday, 2:09 A.M.

The yacht began to sink toward the stern. Kannaday stumbled back against the bed as the floor tilted. The incoming water was settling in the aft section. The captain heard the clatter of boxes and loose equipment below as the vessel shifted.

The crawl space, he thought suddenly.

Kannaday leaned on the wall. He braced himself with both hands as he stood. The far end of the storage area was directly below the cabin. If he could pry up the floorboards, he might be able to squeeze through.

The captain bolted toward the desk and pulled out the drawer. He did not have a letter opener or knife, but the drawer was held in by runners. He yanked it free, tossed it aside, and looked at the screws. A nail file would work. He went into the bathroom and got his nail clippers from the medicine chest. He flipped out the nail file and used it to work out the screws. There were two in each runner. The first one came free quickly. That was all he would need.

The runner was shaped like a squared-off C. Kannaday went back to the bathroom, unscrewed the metal spray head from the shower, and laid the end of the runner on the desk. Holding the showerhead in his fist, he used it to pound the end of the runner flat.

He had his lever.