Captain Kannaday was hurt. Herbert had no doubt that the man was exhausted. But he did not believe the man was asleep. Kannaday’s nap was the Australian equivalent of cover-your-ass. Whatever had happened on the yacht was illegal. Kannaday had said as much. He was not going to say anything else without a barrister or solicitor or whatever they called criminal attorneys Down Under.

It had also been imprudent of Jelbart to mention the pirate. That information had not been made public. If Kannaday were asleep, it would not matter. If he were awake, he might be less inclined to talk. The captain might say things that contradicted what officials already knew from the pirate. That would not be good for Kannaday.

Herbert’s E-mail alert beeped. “Christ,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Jelbart asked.

Herbert turned and snapped the cell phone from the armrest of the wheelchair.

“Paul, are you still there?”

“I am,” Hood said.

“Sorry, boss,” Herbert told him. “I forgot you were hanging on. What have you got?”

“A file on Peter Kannaday,” Hood said. “I thought you might like to have a look at it.”

“Absolutely,” Herbert said. The laptop monitor was anchored in the left armrest of the wheelchair. Herbert craned around and swung the screen toward him. He punched the On button. It activated with a hiss. He opened and downloaded Hood’s E-mail.

“Do you think the captain is really asleep?” Hood asked.

“Yeah,” Herbert said. “And I’m going to be the next president of the United States.”

“Do you believe anything he said?” Hood asked.

“I don’t know,” Herbert admitted. He was watching the monitor as the file downloaded. “I don’t have enough information.”

“And there’s nothing you or Officer Loh can do to get that information,” Hood said.

“Well, there is—” Herbert said.

“Lawfully, I mean,” Hood interrupted. “Peter Kannaday is an Australian captain working in international waters. He was rescued by an Australian helicopter. They’re going to have the first swing at him.”

“Paul, we’ve got to fight that,” Herbert said. “Maybe Lowell can pull some legal precedent out of his brain pan.” The intelligence chief looked out the window as the computer continued opening the file. It was dark out there. But not as dark as Herbert felt inside.

“Come on, Bob. You know better.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Herbert replied.

“Even if Lowell got us in to talk to Kannaday, he’s not going to let an interview turn rough,” Hood said.

“He’d rather see some psycho warlord get heavy artillery?”

“The Australians won’t let that happen,” Hood replied. “Give them some credit.”