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"I've got thirty scientists working on the problem," said Gunn, "and they have yet to stumble on a clue indicating a source."
"Anything from the pathologists on those five fishermen the Coast Guard found dead on their boat off Chirikof Island?" asked Sandecker.
"Preliminary postmortem examinations show no tissue damage from poison, inhaled or ingested, nor any fast acting disease that's known to medical science. As soon as Colonel Hunt over at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center has completed his report, I'll have him call you."
"Dammit!" Sandecker burst out. "Something killed them. The skipper died in the wheelhouse, his hands gripped on the helm, while the crew went down on deck in the act of bringing in their nets. People just don't drop dead without cause, certainly not hardy men in their twenties and thirties."
Yaeger nodded in agreement. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place. It has to be something we haven't considered."
Sandecker idly stared at his cigar smoke as it spiraled toward the paneled ceiling. He seldom laid all his cards on the table, preferring to turn them over slowly, one at a time. "I was talking to Dirk just before our meeting."
"Anything new at his end?" asked Gunn.
"Not from the biologists on board Ice Hunter, but Dirk has a theory, pretty farfetched he admits, but one none of us had thought of."
"I'd like to hear it," said Yaeger.
"He came up with a type of pollution."
Gunn looked at Sandecker, his eyes skeptical. "What type of pollution could he possibly suggest that we missed?"
Sandecker grinned like a sniper sighting through his scope. "Noise," he answered flatly.
"Noise," repeated Gunn. What kind of noise?"
"He thinks there might be deadly sound waves that travel through water for hundreds perhaps thousands of miles, before they surface and loll everything within a certain radius." Sandecker paused and studied his subordinates for their reaction.
Yaeger was not a cynical man, but he inclined his head and laughed. "I'm afraid old Pitt is hitting his special brand of tequila too hard and too fast."
Oddly, there was not a hint of doubt on Gunn's face. He peered intently at the projected image of the Pacific Ocean for a few moments. Then he said, I think Dirk is onto something."
Yaeger's eyes narrowed. "You do?"
"I do," Gunn replied earnestly. "Rogue underwater acoustics might very well be our villain."
"I'm happy to hear another vote," said Sandecker.
"When he first laid it on me, I thought Dirk's mind was sluggish from exhaustion. But the more I considered his theory, the more I came to believe in its possibilities."
"Word has it, said Yaeger, "that he single-handedly saved Polar Queen from running onto the rocks."
Gunn nodded. "It's true. After Al dropped him from a helicopter onto the ship, he steered it away from certain destruction."
"Back to the dead fishermen," Sandecker said, returning the conference to a more somber note. "How long before we have to turn their bodies over to local Alaskan authorities?"
"About five minutes after they learn we have them," replied Gunn. "The crewmen on the Coast Guard cutter that discovered the ship drifting in the Gulf of Alaska will surely talk once they dock at their station in Kodiak and come ashore."
"Even after their captain has ordered them to remain quiet," said Sandecker.
"We're not at war, Admiral. The Coast Guard is highly regarded in northern waters. They won't enjoy being party to a cover-up against men whose lives they are committed to saving. A couple of drinks at the Yukon Saloon and they'll break the news to anyone who will listen."
Sandecker sighed. "I suppose you're right. Commandant MacIntyre was not happy about the secrecy.
It wasn't until he received a direct order from the secretary of' defense that he caved in and turned the bodies over to NUMA scientists."
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Yaeger gave Sandecker a knowing look. "I wonder who got to the secretary of defense?"
