“A reasonable guess, but there’s no real indication of that kind of fluid movement. And again, the damage in all three materials looks so similar. If you dump the same acid on concrete, steel, and plastic, you don’t get the same result, right? The plastic maybe gets melted, the steel gets etched, and the concrete just gets a stain. Obviously, I’ll run some tests but I can tell you that this isn’t like any chemical agent I’ve run across. My gut says no.”

“What else does your gut say?”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the image on the screen. “That you’ve found something very new. And very dangerous.”

23

23

912 Miles Northeast of Papua New Guinea

General Masao Takahashi stood on the bridge of the cargo ship and looked out over the deck. Longer than that of an American aircraft carrier, it was empty with the exception of three massive containers directly beneath his position. As forecasted, the weather had come in, creating a perfect environment for the test they were about to run. The thick layer of clouds was high enough not to hamper visibility, but it would still blind the American satellites that were becoming virtually impossible to schedule around. An intermittent mist was collecting on the glass in front of him and winds were gusting to forty knots, creating what he considered realistic battle conditions. Wars were not won only under temperate skies.

He looked behind him at the five men on the bridge and at the banks of equipment far too sophisticated for this type of ship. Dr. Hideki Ito, wearing a wool hat and dark glasses to obscure his radiation injuries, was talking quietly to the captain. The other men were glued to their computer screens making the necessary preparations.

“Is everything ready?” Takahashi asked.

Ito gave a jerky nod. “Yes, of course, sir. The planes are being uncrated as we speak.”

“I’d like to meet the pilots.”

The scientist looked through the window, suddenly seeming a bit pensive. He was not a man to brave the elements, or indeed to leave his lab if he could avoid it.

“Akifumi,” Takahashi said. “Perhaps you would like to join me?”

Captain Akifumi Watanbe gave a short bow and motioned toward the bridge’s exit. He was a man of few words who, despite current appearances, had never been involved in the merchant marine. He had retired from Japan’s naval defense forces five years ago, and it was unlikely that there was a more patriotic or competent officer in the country.

The wind lashed the stairs as they descended, but the rain began to dissipate. On deck, crews from the air defense force were preparing two Mitsubishi F-15 Eagle fighter jets. Another crew was farther forward setting up an aircraft carrier–style catapult that had been specifically designed and built for that vessel.