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"She was manned and ready on station during Iran's disastrous invasion of Kuwait and Saudi Arabia in 1985. Flying the maritime flag of Panama, she secretly sank two Soviet spy ships in the Persian Gulf.
The Russians could never prove who did it, because none of our Navy ships were within range. They still think the missiles that destroyed their ships came from the Saudi shore."
"And you found out about all this?"
"I have my sources," she informed him.
"Does the Hobson have anything to do with the Pilottown?"
"Indirectly," Loren answered.
"Go on."
"Three years ago, the Hobson vanished with all hands off the Pacific Coast of Mexico."
" so? "
"So three months later the CIA found her again.
"Sounds familiar," Pitt mused.
"My thought too." Loren nodded. "A replay of the San Marino and the Belle Chasse."
"Where was the Hobson discovered?"
Before Loren could answer, the waiter set their plates on the table. The zuppa di pesce, an Italian bouillabaisse, looked sensational.
As soon as the waiter walked out of earshot he nodded to her.
"Go on."
"I don't know how the CIA tracked the ship down, but they came on her sitting in a dry dock in Sydney, Australia, where she was undergoing a major face-lift."
"They find who she was registered to?"
"She flew the Philippine flag under the registry of Samar Exporters. A bogus firm that was incorporated only a few weeks earlier in Manila. Her new name was Buras."
"Burin," Pitt echoed. "Must be the name of a person. How's your salad?"
"The dressing is very tasty. And yours?"
"Excellent," he answered. "An act of sheer stupidity on the part of the pirates to steal a ship belonging to the CIA."
"A case of a mugger rolling a drunk and finding out the drunk was an undercover detective."
"What happened next in Sydney?"
"Nothing. The CIA, working with the Australian branch of the British Secret Service, tried to apprehend the owners of the Buras but were never able to find them."
"No leads, no witnesses?"
"The small Korean crew living onboard had been recruited in Singapore. They knew little and could only give a description of the captain, who had vanished."
Pitt took a swallow of water and examined a page of the report.
"Not much of an id. Korean, medium height, one hundred sixty-five pounds, black hair, gap in front teeth. That narrows it down to about five or ten million men," he said sarcastically. "Well, at least now I don't feel so bad. If the CIA can't pin a make on whoever is sailing around the world hijacking ships, I sure as hell can't."
"Has St. Julien Perhnutter called you?"
