Sea of Greed

Kurt turned the exterior lights on and set the Gryphon’s automatic controls to match the helicopter’s course. That done, he pressed the intercom. “The boss has arrived. Better get topside and keep him from going overboard.”

Paul and Gamay heard the call and went to the aft deck to help with Rudi’s arrival. The helicopter was approaching from directly astern, a pair of floodlights on its lower side illuminating the water.

It closed the gap slowly and matched the Gryphon’s speed once it was overhead. A side door came open and Rudi could be seen in the doorway wearing a life preserver and a suit of all-weather gear.

With the two craft traveling in unison, Rudi descended on a cable. The wind and the downwash from the helicopter pushed him backward as he dropped, but the pilot compensated nicely. As he came into range, Paul reached up, grabbed his feet and helped him to the deck.

Rudi unhooked himself and waved to the pilot, who flashed the lights, pulled up and flew off to the north.

“Welcome to the party,” Paul said.

“Looks like I’ve missed it,” Rudi replied, noting the burn marks, dented armor and missing equipment.

“Be glad about that,” Gamay said.

“Let’s go inside,” Rudi said. “I was just on the line with Hiram. He and Max have something to tell us.”

Back inside the Gryphon, Rudi took off the life jacket and the rain gear and found a seat. “The ride on the hydrofoils was incredibly smooth. You’d never know we were cruising at fifty knots.”

Kurt turned. “She runs like a Thoroughbred,” he said. “Even after all we put her through.”

With the four of them crowded into the wheelhouse, Kurt switched the communications system on and accepted an incoming transmission from Washington, D.C. As soon as the link was established, Hiram Yaeger’s face appeared on the screen.

“I see you survived your journey,” Hiram said.

“Are you talking to Rudi or to us?” Gamay asked.

“All of you.”

“We’re just getting started,” Kurt said. “What’s the word?”

“Our search has been successful,” Yaeger announced. “Too successful, I’m afraid.”

“Didn’t think that was possible,” Rudi said. “What gives?”

“We found a possible submarine on one of the old surveys,” Hiram explained. “Then we found another. And, later, we found yet another. We’ve now located six possible sonar contacts that might be the Minerve.”

“Six,” Kurt said sarcastically. “Is that all?”

“Still, better than none,” Hiram said.

“You’re right about that,” Rudi replied. “Send the data through. We’ll take a look.”

“Sending it now,” Yaeger said.

The information streamed in from Washington and a map of the central Mediterranean appeared on the screen. The boot of Italy occupied the middle, with Libya and Tunisia at the bottom, the Greek peninsula on the far right and Corsica and Sardinia and the southern coast of France in the upper left.

One by one, blinking dots popped up on the map. The first was just eighty miles south of Toulon, the second appeared in shallow waters near Sardinia. The next two dots appeared in deep water between Italy and Greece. A fifth just off the coast of Libya. A sixth near Malta.

The sonar pictures came in next. Kurt, Paul, Gamay and Rudi took their turns and examined the raw images.

“The older images are awfully blurry,” Rudi noted.

“Systems have progressed since you were a lad,” Kurt said.

“Very funny,” Rudi said. “I’m not much older than you.”

By the time all the data had come in, talk turned to narrowing down the list.

“I’ve ordered additional teams to be set up,” Rudi explained. “But it’ll be a couple of days before anyone else is ready, so we’ll get first crack at this. Which door do you want to look behind?”

“We can rule out the wreck near Toulon,” Kurt said.

On-screen, Yaeger disagreed. “Max has that listed as the highest physical match to the Minerve’s profile.”

“It’s definitely a submarine,” Kurt said. “But there’s no chance the French could have missed that.”

Yaeger didn’t argue.

“What about the deepwater wrecks?” Paul suggested. “They’re relatively close to our current position and checking them first would speed up the timetable.”

“You’re not taking into account the descent and surfacing time,” Kurt said. “Besides, I don’t think either of those are the Minerve.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because they’re on a direct line toward Israel,” Kurt said. “Would you take the straightest route to your destination if you knew you were being hunted?”

“The Dakar did,” Paul pointed out.

“Another reason to rule those locations out,” Kurt said. “We know the intention was to take different routes home. The course lines leading to the deepwater locations are too similar to the Dakar’s.”