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“You forget,” Boland persisted quietly, “I can radio Pearl Harbor and have air support overhead before dark.”
“Can you?” Pitt asked.
Boland thought he had an unnecessarily positive look in his penetrating green eyes, but with Pitt it was hard to be sure. Pitt’s expression showed exactly what Dirk Pitt wanted it to show and no more.
“Has Admiral Hunter acknowledged your calls?”
“We’ve only sent on maritime frequency, the same as you from the submarine.”
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that Hunter hasn’t sent a communication concerning the discovery of the Starbuck? You said it yourself. My call from the submarine was heard by every transmitter within a thousand miles. How come none broke in to say ‘screw you,’ or ‘how’s the weather?’ Why haven’t Hunter or Gunn requested details? Chances are you’ll find nothing got through, even that phony bit about the burned propeller shaft bearing.”
Pitt struck home this time. Boland raised an eyebrow and then calmly touched one of several intercom switches and said “This is Commander Boland. Open communication to Pearl on Code Overland Six. Let me know as soon as they acknowledge.”
“Code Overland Six, yes sir,” replied the rough voice from the speaker.
“What makes you think we didn’t get through?” Boland asked.
“Except for the Lillie Marlene, no one else ever got off a message. Not even the Starbuck. It stands to reason that our unknown friends aren’t about to let the world know what we’ve found.”
“If you’re correct, then they must be jamming our transmissions.”
“You bet your life they’re jamming,” Pitt said seriously. “That explains why no signals ever came from the missing ships. They sent them out all right, but nothing was received at the maritime stations on Oahu. It also explains the fake position report from Dupree before the Starbuck supposedly vanished. Our unknown friends have a high-power radio transmitter stashed somewhere. Probably on one of the Hawaiian Islands. They’d need a land base to support an antenna tall enough to overpower signals from ships at sea.”
“Commander Boland?” a voice rasped from the speaker.
“Boland here. Let’s have it.”
“Nothing, just nothing, sir. They acknowledge all right, but not on Code Overland Six. I’ve repeated the call four times. All they do is send back a request for a message. Can’t figure it, Commander. The calls on the maritime channel came in letter perfect. Somebody is trying to get cute.”
Boland flicked off the intercom. Nobody said anything. It didn’t seem important that we were in contact, Pitt thought. All that mattered was that we were in contact with the wrong party.
“Not good,” said Boland, his expression grim.
“That answers one question. But what really happened to the Starbuck’s crew six months ago? And, if she’s sitting down there all prim and proper, why hasn’t she been put in operation?”
“We can scratch the Russians or any other foreign power,” said Boland. “No way they could have kept this a secret this long.”
“Crazy as it sounds,” said Pitt, “I don’t think the capture ot the Starbuck was a conspiracy, or a preconceived act.”
“You’re right. It sounds crazy,” Boland said evenly. “It’s not exactly the easiest trick in the world to unintentionally put the grab on a nuclear submarine in mid-ocean.”
“Somebody mastered it,” Pitt retorted. “March and I found nothing to indicate the slightest damage inside or out of the hull.”
“It won’t wash. An army couldn’t have gained entrance inside the sub. The array of sophisticated detection gear must have given off a warning. The Starbuck has automatic alarms that will wake up the dead when activated by open ventilators or hatches. Nothing but fish could have come within spitting distance.”
“Still, even modern submarines aren’t prepared to repel boarders.”
Before Boland could reply, he was interrupted by the intercom speaker. “Skipper?”
“Go ahead.”
“Could you please come to the bridge, sir. There’s something you ought to see up here.”
“Give me a clue.”
“Well... sir... it’s land of crazy...” “Come man,” Boland snapped, “spit it outl” The voice from the bridge hesitated. “Fog, Commander, Fog is coming up out of the water and covering the surface like an old Frankenstein flick. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s unreal.”
“I’ll be right there.” Boland stared grimly at Pitt.
