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"I apologize for rushing you like this," he said, "and I realize you must need a good rest, but it's extremely vital for Ray Jordan to debrief you while an operation is underway to eliminate the threat of the Kaiten Project."
"We understand," Diaz said, happy to be back amid the tumult of political action. "I'm sure I speak for Congresswoman Smith when I say we're only too glad to help."
The President courteously turned to Loren. "Do you mind?"
Loren felt in desperate need of a good soaking bath. She wore no makeup, her hair was tousled, and she was dressed in pants and slacks a size too small that she had borrowed from an aircraft maintenance man's wife on Wake Island. Despite that and the exhaustion, she still looked remarkably beautiful.
"Please, Mr. President, what would you like to know?"
"If we can skip the details of your abductions, your treatment by Hideki Suma, and your incredible escape until later," said Jordan with quiet firmness, "we'd like to hear what you can tell us about Suma's operations and the Dragon Center."
Loren and Diaz silently exchanged tense glances that conveyed more fearfully than words the spectrum of menacing horrors that were being created in Edo City and under Soseki Island. She nodded in deference to Diaz, who spoke first.
"From what we saw and heard, I'm afraid that the threat from Suma's bomb-car program is only the tip of the iceberg."
"Fifteen minutes to drop, gentlemen," the pilot's voice came over the cargo bay speakers.
"Time to mount up," said Sandecker, his face taut.
Pitt put his hand on Giordino's shoulder. "Let's hit the john before we go."
Giordino looked at him. "Why now? There's a waste system on Big Ben."
"A safety procedure. No telling how hard we're going to strike the water. Formula One and Indianapolis Five Hundred drivers always drain their bladders before a race to prevent internal injury in case they're in an accident."
Giordino shrugged. "If you insist." He walked over to the closetlike toilet for the crew that was stationed behind the cockpit and opened the door.
He had no sooner entered when Pitt made a gesture to the flight engineer. A brief nod in reply and several strands of cable dropped and encircled the toilet and were then winched tight, sealing the door.
Giordino sensed immediately what had happened. "Dirk, no! God, don't do this!"
Sandecker also realized what was happening. "You can't make it alone," he said, grasping Pitt's arm.
"The procedures call for two men."
"One man can operate Big Ben. Stupid to risk two lives." Pitt winced as Giordino's efforts to escape the privy became more frenzied. The little Italian could have easily kicked out the aluminum, but the wrapped steel cable bound it tight. "Tell AI I'm sorry and that someday I'll make it up to him."
"I can order the crew to release him."
Pitt smiled tightly. "You can, but they'd have to fight me to do it.
"You realize you're jeopardizing the operation. What if you were injured during impact? Without Al, you have no backup."
For a long moment Pitt stared at Sandecker. Then finally he said, "I don't want the fear of losing a friend on my mind."
Sandecker knew there was no moving his Special Projects Director. Slowly he took Pitt's hand in both of his. "What would you like waiting for you when you get back?"
Pitt gave the admiral a warm smile. "A crab louis salad and a tequila on the rocks." Then he turned and climbed through the DSMV's hatch and sealed it.
The C-5 had been specially modified for aerial drops. In the cockpit the co-pilot pulled a red handle on his side of the instrument panel, activating the electric motors that swung open a large section of the cargo deck.
Sandecker and two crew members stood in front of the DSMV, their bodies harnessed to safety straps that clipped to tie-down rings. They leaned forward against the wind that swept through the massive opening, their eyes drawn to Pitt seated in Big Ben's control cabin.
"Sixty seconds to drop zone," the pilot's voice came over the headsets clamped on their heads.
"Surface wind holding at five knots. Skies clear with a three-quarter moon. Sea maintaining a slight chop with four-foot swells. No surface ships showing on radar."
"Conditions acceptable," Sandecker confirmed.
