“What are they saying now?” Jack asked.
“Sabotage. Done by the Chinese.”
Jack’s brow crinkled. Over the past few days he had been too busy to follow the news. “But that’s ridiculous. President Bishop was one of the staunchest advocates for negotiating a long-term relationship with China. Why would they assassinate him?”
The admiral scowled. “It’s all politics. Posturing. But in response, the Chinese have already pulled their diplomats out of the U.S. and kicked ours out of their country. Just this morning I learned that the Chinese navy has been out on maneuvers. Just more posturing on their part, but it’s still a dangerous game Washington is playing.”
Jack suddenly felt foolish voicing his own wild conjecture. The admiral had enough on his plate. “Then I guess we need the real answer ASAP.”
“No doubt. At least we’ll have the Navy’s own sub to aid us tomorrow. With two submersibles diving, we should be able to accelerate the pace.”
Jack nodded. The sub was the newest prototype, a part of the Navy’s Deep Submergence Unit, rated to the depth of fifteen thousand feet and a speed of up to forty knots. “I’ve read about the Perseus. A real Ferrari of the fleet.”
“A Ferrari with teeth. It was just outfitted with an array of minitorpedoes.”
Jack’s eyes widened.
“It’s the latest modification to the Perseus. Still classified info.”
“Should you be telling me about it?”
Houston waved off his concern. “You would’ve found out tomorrow anyway. These little submarine busters should help discourage any hostile sea life from trying to eat you again.”
Jack grinned. “For once, I’m not going to object to the Navy guarding my back.”
Footsteps on the stairs interrupted their discussion. Both men turned. George Klein pushed up into the galley from the lower deck. “I thought I heard voices up here,” the historian said. “I was hoping you were still awake, Jack.”
Jack was surprised by the professor’s shabby appearance: dark circles shadowed his eyes, a scraggly gray beard covered his chin. It looked as if he had not slept in a couple days. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen George all day. “What is it, Professor?”
The historian lifted a rolled map in his hand. “Something I wanted to run past you. I’ve been researching other disappearances in this region. I think you should see this.”
Jack knew George did not voice idle thoughts. The historian remained close-lipped until he was satisfied with his research. And from the condition of the man, Jack suspected he had been digging into something significant.
“What have you discovered?”
“Perhaps the underlying reason for the crash of Air Force One.”
The admiral straightened and looked significantly at Jack. “It seems everyone is coming up with their own theories today.”
George ignored the admiral’s words and moved to the galley table. As the historian unrolled his map, Jack caught a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean and a large red-penciled triangle. Before he could get a better look, a loud boom shook through the ship.
Everyone froze.
As the sound echoed away, Jack heard Elvis barking deeper in the ship’s belly.
Wincing, the professor adjusted his glasses. “That was close. That thunderclap must have been—”
Both the admiral and Jack were on their feet. “That wasn’t thunder,” Jack said, stepping to the door leading to the stern deck.
Outside, rain lashed the deck. The winds tried to rip the door handle from his grip. The ship rolled deeply under his feet.
Both men followed him from the galley.
Turning, Jack searched the seas. About a quarter mile away he spotted the silhouette of the USS Gibraltar. The ship now blazed with lights. From its deck, a small fireball rolled into the dark sky.
“What happened?” George asked, wiping at his glasses.
No one answered—but as Jack followed the fireball, he sensed that their true troubles were just beginning.
11
Exiled
August 1, 8:22 A.M.
Ryukyu University, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan
Climbing the stairs of Miyuki’s building, Karen was thrilled to get back to work. After yesterday’s attempted theft, she and Miyuki had spent the entire day holed up with university security. Even though she had used her gun in self-defense, the authorities confiscated her weapon. With Japanese gun laws as strict as they were, it had taken Karen hours to talk her way out of the police station. Afterward, Ryukyu’s president, concerned about the attack, had called to reassure the two women and promise them increased security.
Taking extra measures herself, Karen had stashed the crystal artifact in her safe deposit box at her bank in anticipation of another attempted theft.
Even now, as she climbed the building’s stairs, she was accompanied by a uniformed security guard. At least the university’s president had proven true to his word, she thought. At the top of the stairs she led the way to Miyuki’s lab. After she knocked and identified herself, she heard the tumblers in the lock and then the door inched open.
“Are you all right, Doctor?” the guard asked in Japanese.
Miyuki nodded. She pulled the door open, allowing Karen to enter.
“We’ll be fine from here,” Karen said in stilted Japanese. “We’ll keep the doors locked and will call down when we’re ready to leave.”
He nodded and turned curtly.
Karen closed the door and Miyuki locked it again. Sighing, Karen reached over and took her friend’s hand. “We’re safe,” she said. “They won’t be back. Not with the extra security around here.”
“But—”
She gave Miyuki’s hand a squeeze. Remembering how calm the leader of the thieves had been, and recalling how he had knocked down his companion’s rifle, she said, “I don’t think they truly meant us any personal harm. They just wanted the artifact.”
“And are determined to get it no matter who stands in their way,” Miyuki added dourly.
“Don’t worry. With it locked in my safe deposit box, they’ll have to defeat the Bank of Tokyo’s security system to get it.”
“I’m still not taking any chances.” Miyuki waved Karen to the clean suits hanging on their wall. “C’mon. Gabriel has discovered something interesting.”
“Really? About the language?”
“Yes, he finished compiling the other examples of the Easter Island script.”