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Wilbur Hill's eyes alternated between the photos and the images on the monitor. "I've had a fair amount of experience investigating terrorist bomb explosions, and I believe I'm on solid ground in saying Dirk is correct. The bottom of the Emerald Dolphin was not blown out by a concentrated explosion. As the photos and video show, the hull burst in several places, as demonstrated by the shattered hull plates extending outward. It also looks as if the explosive devices were spaced equidistant from one another. A sure sign the destruction was well planned and executed."
"For what purpose?" asked Davis. "Why go to all that trouble to sink a burned-out hulk? Better yet, who could do it? No one alive was left aboard when it was taken in tow."
"Not so," said Gunn. "The tug's captain"-he paused to scan a large notepad-"his name was Jock McDermott, reported pulling one of the cruise ship's officers from the sea immediately after the ship went down."
Davis looked skeptical. "How could the man have survived the fire?"
"Good question," Gunn said, tapping a pen on his notepad. "McDermott was at a loss to explain the miracle. He stated that the man acted as if he was in shock until the tug reached Wellington. Then he slipped ashore before he could be questioned and disappeared."
"Did McDermott give a description?" Davis probed.
"Only that he was a black man."
Sandecker didn't ask for permission from the others seated in his presence to smoke. NUMA was his territory, and he lit up one of the legendary huge cigars that he highly treasured and almost never passed out, even to his closest friends. He exhaled a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling and spoke slowly. "The prime issue here is that the Emerald Dolphin was deliberately sunk to block any investigation by the insurance companies to find the cause of the fire. The sinking was a cover-up. At least that's how it looks to me."
Davis stared at Sandecker. "If your theory is on target, Admiral, that leads to the terrible possibility that the fire was an act of arson. I can't conceive of any motive, even by terrorists, to destroy a cruise ship and twenty-five hundred crew and passengers. Certainly not without a terrorist group claiming responsibility, and none has come forward."
"I agree the thought is incomprehensible," said Sandecker. "But if that's where the facts lead us, that's where we'll go."
"What facts?" Davis persisted. "It would be impossible to find evidence the fire was caused by man and not by an accident or a fault of the ship's systems."
"According to the accounts of the surviving ship's officers, every fire system on board ship failed to function," said Rudi Gunn. "They tell of their frustration at watching the fire rage out of control without any means of stopping it. We're talking twelve different main systems, including backups. What are the odds of their all failing?"
"About the same as a man on a bicycle winning the Indianapolis 500," answered Giordino cynically.
"I believe Dirk and Al have given us the evidence to prove the fire was deliberate," said Yaeger.
Everyone at the table looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue, but Pitt spoke first. "Our lab identified the material we brought back so soon?"
"They worked through the wee hours of the night and nailed it," Yaeger said triumphantly.
"What are we talking about?" asked Hill.
"A substance we found when we searched the wreck in a submersible," answered Giordino. "We spotted it in the chapel area, where reports claim the fire started, and brought back a sample."
"I won't bore you with a lengthy lecture on how the elements were broken down," Yaeger continued. "But our NUMA scientists identified it as a highly incendiary material known as Pyrotorch 610. Once it has been ignited, it's almost impossible to extinguish. The stuff is so unstable that even the military won't touch it."
Yaeger reveled in the mixture of expressions around the table. Pitt reached over and shook Giordino's hand. "Good work, partner."
Giordino grinned proudly. "It seems our little trip in the Abyss Navigator paid off."
"Too bad Misty isn't here to hear the news."
"Misty?" inquired Davis.
"Misty Graham," said Pitt. "A marine biologist on board the Deep Encounter. She accompanied Al and me on the dive in the submersible."
Sandecker idly knocked the ashes of his cigar into a large brass ashtray. "It looks to me like what we'd thought was just a devastating tragedy has turned into a hideous crime-" He stopped as a blank look that turned to exasperation crossed his face.
Giordino had pulled out a cigar from his breast pocket that was the exact mate to the admiral's, and slowly lit it.
"You were saying," prompted Hill, not knowing the behind-the-scenes dance between Sandecker and Giordino and their cigars. The admiral was almost certain Al was stealing his cigars, but he could never prove it. None ever appeared to be missing. He never caught on that Giordino was secretly buying his cigars from the same source in Nicaragua.
"I was saying," Sandecker spoke slowly, giving the evil eye to Giordino, "that we have a grievous crime on our hands." He paused to look across the table at Hill and Davis. "I hope you gentlemen and your agencies will launch an immediate in-depth investigation into the atrocity and bring the guilty parties to justice."
"Now that we definitely know a crime was committed," said Davis, "I believe we can all work together to find the answers."
"You can begin with the hijacking of the Deep Encounter," said Pitt. "I don't harbor the slightest doubt there is a connection."
