Sea of Greed

Hallsman explained. “A glut of oil that had been built up in tankers and storage facilities around the world has cushioned the blow. That supply has largely been used up. To fill the void, we’ve been releasing oil from the strategic reserve. We think the Chinese are doing the same from their own reserves. But those actions will only keep the lid on for so long. Once the public gets wind of this, people will panic. Traders will bid the prices through the roof and everyone will scramble to grab what’s left on the table.”

“How bad is it going to get?”

“Two hundred dollars a barrel by the fall,” Hallsman suggested. “And if current trends are not reversed, seven to eight hundred dollars a barrel a year from now is not out of the question. I don’t have to tell you what happens if we get there.”

“We’ll never get to seven hundred dollars a barrel,” Sandecker said. “World economic collapse, multiple wars and global depression will hit before then.”

Rudi nodded. “Scarcity has been a precursor to war since the caveman walked the earth. What is it you want NUMA to do, Mr. President?”

“Based on what your people discovered in the Gulf, we have our first direct evidence that there’s a man-made cause to this,” the President said. “I want NUMA to figure out who it is, what they’re doing and why. And if possible, find a way to stop it. We know there’s oil down in those fields, but it’s no use to anyone if we can’t get at it without blowing ourselves up.”

Rudi sat back. “That’s a tall order. Wouldn’t the CIA and FBI be better used to investigate this?”

The President shook his head. “Those two organizations have their own areas of proficiency, but there are factors here that go beyond what they do. To begin with, we have no idea how many offshore fields have been compromised. But when the final tally comes in, we expect it to be extensive. I have no doubt we’ll need NUMA’s aquatic expertise to both establish and deal with that issue. More importantly, you people in NUMA get things done. Those other agencies spend a lot of time talking about getting things done. We don’t have time for that.”

Rudi nodded. He would leave no stone unturned as he attempted to fulfill the President’s request. “I appreciate your faith in us. I’ll do everything I can to get to the bottom of this.”

The President stood and everyone around the table did likewise. “Good,” he said. “The sooner, the better. Otherwise, my limo will be a horse and buggy by the year’s end.”

13

NUMA VESSEL RALEIGH, ON STATION IN THE GULF OF MEXICO

ELEVEN COFFINS lay on the deck of the Raleigh the morning after the disaster. Inside the coffins rested the bodies of ten men and one woman, all crew members from the oil platforms.

Some had died in the explosion, others were burned to death, still others had few obvious injuries but had been overcome by the toxic fumes or drowned trying to swim to safety.

A dozen additional roughnecks remained missing.

Standing by them, Kurt wondered briefly about each life that had ended prematurely. What had they left behind? What dreams had they never been given a chance to fulfill?

Captain Brooks came up and remained respectfully silent for a moment before speaking. “Sad day,” he said. “You did all you could. More than anyone could expect.”

Kurt nodded. He wasn’t thinking about the past but the future. He shifted his eyes from the coffins to the horizon.

“Somewhere out there, the people who did this are reading the headlines and celebrating,” he said. “They might even be laughing with glee. Whoever they are, they’re not going to be so happy when I find them.”

“Three of our own crewmen are in the sick bay with smoke inhalation and lung damage. Another crewman has chemical burns on him from pulling one of these bodies out of the water. So, when you find whoever did this… you give them my regards.”

Kurt nodded. “With pleasure.”

Brooks changed the subject. “Paul and Gamay Trout are on their way in. Joe’s waiting for you inside. He’s been taking apart whatever device you pulled off that submersible. Asked me to send you his way if I saw you.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said.

Kurt stepped inside and found Joe in one of the Raleigh’s recovery holds, where artifacts and salvaged items were stored during a mission.

There, Joe had taken apart what they’d assumed was a battery pack and was examining it under a small microscope.

“Making progress?” Kurt asked.

“Depends on your definition of the term,” Joe said. “I called everyone I know in the submersible business, no one has even heard of a disk-shaped submersible, not even a design concept for one.”

“Must have been built in-house somewhere,” Kurt said. “That might help us narrow down the list of suspects. What about this battery pack?”

“It’s not a battery pack,” Joe said. “It’s a fuel cell. But its design and materials are like nothing I’ve ever seen. Very advanced stuff.”

“Must be, if you can’t figure it out,” Kurt said. “Know anyone who can?”

Joe nodded. “I have a friend in Florida who might be able to help. Her name is Misty.”