Leviathan

"So your historical departments believe that this Octavian Heirthall assisted Lincoln in some capacity during the Civil War? And there was definite animosity between this man and Secretary of War Stanton?"

"From the few entries from diaries--with the mention of O. H., or the Norwegian--we assume these diarists were speaking of Octavian," Jack explained. "The most convincing piece of evidence comes from the official paymaster of the Confederate States. Five hundred dollars in gold was issued to Confederate Assistant Secretary of State Thomas Engersoll, and he was sent on a mission to Great Britain. His orders were unknown, but we have confirmed that he met directly with Queen Victoria and certain members of Parliament. There has been conjecture around here that a treaty may have been in the works between England and the Confederacy."

"What happened to this Engersoll, Colonel?" the president asked.

"He was lost in a storm in the Gulf of Mexico in eighteen sixty-three on his return trip, along with three British warships."

"Hmm, damn rough storm," the president said, shaking his head.

"Yes, it would have been, except for the fact our historians say there wasn't a severe storm in the general area for the entire months of June and July of eighteen sixty-three that could account for sinking three British men-of-war."

"Octavian Heirthall?"

"Yes, sir, we believe that was one of the missions he was tasked with. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together, Mr. President; we believe that the history is correct and it leads us right to Alexandria Heirthall."

"What do we do about it?"

Jack turned the meeting back to Pete Golding.

"Well, sir, we have a theory that places Octavian Heirthall somewhere within a three-thousand-square-mile area of the Pacific, where we believe he made his home base. That, coupled with physical evidence recovered here at the complex after the assault, makes us believe we may find them somewhere in between Saboo Island in the Marianas, and Guam."

"I need the chain of evidence sent over. The Russians and Chinese have set traps at the entrances into the Pacific and Indian oceans, around the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Horn of South America, and the Bering Strait."

Jack turned the monitor back to face him.

"Sir, this trap the Russians and Chinese have come up with--call it off. Get them to back away until we can figure out a more realistic plan of action. It's our opinion, as I'm sure is the navy's, that we can't outgun this woman."

The president sat motionless as he looked at the images of Pete and Collins. Then he thought a moment.

"Colonel, Admiral Fuqua has the attack boats Pasadena, Dallas, and Missouridispersed in those ambushing groups. I cannot pull them out at this time. We would lose all hope of cooperation between our Asian and Russian allies in this mess. The Russians, Venezuelans, British, and Chinese are fuming after this morning's attacks."

The double doors to the office opened and Gene Robbins came through with a sheaf of paper. He placed it on Pete's desk and waited for the meeting to end.

"What exactly is their plan of attack?" Jack asked.

"A cordon of eight attack submarines, arrayed at intervals and different depths, lying quiet and ready to shoot at anything that comes out of the polar passages. The same amount has been placed at the other areas I mentioned."

Jack didn't say what he was thinking--that this would be a massacre beyond anyone's worst nightmare, and in favor of the wrong team.

"So, get me somewhere I can make a stand against these people. Come up with something, Colonel. Thus far the CIA, NSA, and FBI have nothing."

"Yes, sir."

The monitor went from the president's image to a blank blue screen.

"Did I hear right--they're setting a trap for Leviathan?" Robbins asked, removing his glasses. "Wasn't the loss of those British warships enough for one day?"

Collins looked at Robbins. "Do you expect the world to just lie down and not try to stop this madness, Doctor?"

"No ... no, of course not ... I just mean--"

"What do you have, Gene?" Pete asked, cutting off his quasi-apology.

"I just wanted to tell you that we have Europa completely back. I've close-looped the system with the exception of the clean room, and only we four currently have access to that area."

"That will be all, Gene," Pete said, gesturing toward the door.

Robbins quickly left the office.

"I never knew the good doctor was so passionate about naval losses," Everett said.

"He's just frustrated," Pete said.

Jack nodded at Everett, and the captain pulled a small plastic bag out of his back pocket and handed it to Pete. Golding accepted the bag and looked it over.

"Rubber gloves?" he asked.

"Pete, when we head out to Saboo Island, I think we need a person from the computer center to accompany us. You never know, we may need one on this trip," Jack said, looking serious and tapping the plastic bag Pete was holding.

"I guess I can assign someone."

"Not just someone, Pete. I want the saboteur to come along for the ride."