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AFTER SPENDING the balance of the night at the hospital and talking with the local police, Kurt, Joe, Paul and Gamay had been taken to a hotel, where they’d managed a few hours of exhausted sleep, before talking with Rudi Gunn in Washington.
The tone of the conversation was somber until Kurt asked Rudi’s permission to sneak into Chinese waters and see what they might be hiding.
“Not a chance,” Rudi Gunn replied. “Absolutely out of the question.”
His voice came from the speakerphone sitting in the middle of the table. The sound was surprisingly clear, echoing around the hotel suite with so much volume that Rudi might as well have been there in person.
Kurt leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the triangle-shaped speaker. “So what I’m hearing is . . . you’d like us to be careful.”
“Then you need to get your ears checked,” Rudi said. “The location you gave us is not just deep within Chinese territorial waters. In a section they’ve designated a special operations zone. It’s one of their naval testing grounds. They patrol the demarcation line relentlessly. Ships, aircraft, submarines. They even have a permanent line of tethered sonar buoys out there. Something like our SOSUS lines in the North Sea.”
Kurt looked around at the others. After what they’d just been through, every one of them wanted to get a look at whatever Kenzo and his analog machines had found.
Paul took the next crack at it. “Rudi, I’ve gone over what I know of Kenzo’s theory. Geologically speaking, there’s a reasonable chance he’s onto something. Considering the situation, there has to be some method of sneaking us in there.”
“That’s not like you, Paul. How bad is Kurt twisting your arm?”
“Only a minor sprain,” Paul said, tongue in cheek.
“Help us and no one gets hurt,” Kurt joked.
Joe offered a thought: “We could have a commercial vessel wander off course, break down and request our help. Maybe even stage a fire or some other urgent need. We’ve done it before. If we happen to be the closest vessel—”
“Then you’d already be in Chinese waters,” Rudi said. “Look. It’s simple. The Chinese don’t need our help to rescue anyone that close to their own shoreline. And they’re not too keen on anyone ‘wandering’ into their waters or airspace. A few years ago, they crashed into one of our surveillance planes—and that flight was still technically in international airspace.”
Kurt sat back. “What if we hitchhiked aboard one of the Navy’s new attack subs?” Kurt said. “I’ve heard they’re undetectable.”
“Already asked,” Rudi replied. “So far, the only thing undetectable has been an official response to my request. Apparently, the Navy isn’t interested in sending their newest submarine into a shallow-water sea filled with China’s most sophisticated underwater listening posts. And I can’t blame them.”
Kurt looked up. Had Rudi just given something away? “You’ve already asked the Navy for help? What gives?”
The room went silent, and when Rudi spoke again, his voice was slightly less authoritative. “Would you believe, I’ve come to trust your judgment?”
“Not in a million years.”
Rudi sighed audibly. “Let’s put it this way. Our government hasn’t detected any of these Z-waves, like your new friend, but over the past two years both NUMA and the Navy have picked up subsurface reverberations coming from that very section of the East China Sea, where those Z-wave paths crossed. Putting two and two together, it raised the possibility of there being something worth investigating.”
“So Kenzo was right,” Paul said. “There is something going on out there. What kind of noise are we picking up?”
“It’s been impossible to classify,” Rudi told them. “Possibly deep-sea drilling, but there are enough differences in the acoustic signatures to make us wonder. Some of the Navy’s data has been identified as liquid movement within the continental plate itself.”
“Oil?” Joe asked.
“That’s one possibility,” Rudi said. “Both the East and South China seas are riddled with hydrocarbon deposits—and the Chinese have been very aggressive in staking their claim, especially in the South China Sea where they’ve drawn that infamous nine-dashed line. Except the location Kenzo identified is in the East China Sea. Far enough behind the established border that it’s unquestionably under Chinese control.”
“No need to drill in secret if you’re drilling on your own territory,” Gamay said.
“We looked at a subsurface drilling arrangement two years ago,” Paul said. “The geology team liked the idea. The accounting department had a different perspective. Nearly a hundred times as costly as setting up a normal rig. Makes no sense to do something like that where you don’t have to.”
“Exactly,” Rudi replied. “Beyond that, the sonar recordings don’t match with any known drilling or extraction techniques. Some of the data indicates free-flowing liquid moving extremely fast, under intense pressure, much lighter and less viscous than crude oil. Meanwhile, a second set of echoes register something far thicker and slower. It’s also coming from far deeper. Down within the continental plate itself. Deeper than anyone has ever drilled.”
Paul offered an explanation. “If it is subsurface magma, that might indicate a range of volcanic islands building out there. It could be exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Except that we’re back at square one since we have no way of investigating,” Joe said.
Gamay leaned forward. “I hate to be the voice of reason, but you guys seem intent on sneaking around and doing things the manly way. Why don’t we try a female perspective and a little cooperation? We could just ask the Chinese to let us take a look. We could give them the data on the sea-level rise. Explain that there’s a possibility that a new island chain is forming off their coast or that a bulge in the tectonic plate is occurring and ask them to share in our investigation. They might even appreciate it.”
One thing Kurt had always liked was the team’s differing approaches to problem solving.
