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"It's not your concern," the man rasped carelessly. "Have I your word, Captain, that you and your crew will not attempt to resist or disobey my orders?"
"You have guns," Burch said simply. "We have no arms other than kitchen knives."
While they talked, the tow rope was brought aboard and looped over the Deep Encounter's, forward bollard. Burch's eyes suddenly took on a look of naked discomfort.
"We cannot leave!" he said sharply. "Not yet!"
The hijacker gazed at him, trying to read any sign of a crafty expression. He saw none. "Already you are questioning my orders."
"You don't understand," said Delgado. "We have a submersible down on the seabed with two men and a woman inside. We can't just leave them."
"A pity." The pirate shrugged indifferently. "They will have to make land on their own."
"Impossible. That would be murder."
"Don't they have communications with the outside world?"
"They have only a small portable radio and an underwater acoustic phone," explained Delgado. "They couldn't contact another vessel or aircraft unless they were within two miles of them."
"Good lord, man," pleaded Burch. "When they return to the surface and find us gone, they'll have no hope of rescue. Not this far off the shipping lanes. You'll be signing their death warrants."
"Not my problem."
Enraged, Burch took a step toward the hijacker, who swiftly raised his gun and shoved the muzzle against the captain's chest. "It would not be wise to antagonize me, Captain."
His fists clenched at his sides, Burch stood there staring at the black man as if he was mad, then turned and gazed vacantly at the area of the sea where he had last seen the Abyss Navigator. "God help you if those men die," he said, in a voice that could have cut steel. "Because you will surely pay."
"If there is retribution," said the pirate coldly, "you will not be the one to enforce it."
Defeated and heartsick thinking about Pitt, Giordino and Misty, with no course of action open to them and no ground to negotiate, Burch and Delgado could only allow themselves to be led away to the dining hall by an armed guard.
Before the Abyss Navigator had risen to the surface, the Deep Encounter had long disappeared beyond the northeastern horizon.
15
Sandecker was working at his desk, so intent that he did not immediately notice that Rudi Gunn had entered the office and sat down across from him. Gunn was a little man with a genial disposition. The remaining wisps of hair across the top of his head, the thick horn-rimmed glasses, the inexpensive watch on his wrist suggested a dull and colorless bureaucrat who slaved away unnoticed in a cubicle behind the water cooler.
Gunn was anything but colorless. Number one in his class at Annapolis, he'd served with distinction in the Navy before joining Sandecker at NUMA as assistant director and chief of operations. Known to possess a brilliant mind coupled with a pragmatic instinct, he ran the day-to-day operations of NUMA with an efficiency unknown in other government agencies. Gunn was a close friend of Pitt and Giordino. He often stood behind and backed their wild, adventurous schemes that ran counter to Sandecker's directives.
"Sorry to interrupt, Admiral, but we have a serious problem."
"What is it this time?" asked Sandecker, without looking up, "Another project running over budget?"
"I'm afraid it's far worse."
Only now did the admiral glance up from his paperwork. "What do you have?"
"The Deep Encounter and all on board have vanished."
There was no hint of surprise. No questioning expression. No automatic repeat of the word vanished. He sat with icy calm, waiting for Gunn to elaborate.
"All our radio and satellite phone inquiries have gone unanswered-" Gunn began to explain.
"There could be any one of a hundred reasons for a breakdown in communications," Sandecker cut in.
"There are backup systems," Gunn said patiently. "They can't all have failed."
"How long has it been since they last responded?"
