"Are you by chance related to Senator George Pitt?" asked Dillenger.
"Father and son,"
A small piece of the curtain lifted atld the two officers saw a shaft of light beneath. Hollis pulled up a chair and settled in. "Okay, Mr.
Pitt, please tell me what you've got."
Dillenger cut in, "The last report showed The Lady Flamborough heading for the Antarctic. You say she's still on the surface. New photos will easily pick her out amid the ice floes. "
"If you're betting on the SR-ninety Casper," said Pitt, "save your money."
Dillenger gave Hollis a bleak look. They were outdistanced. This oddball group of ocean engineers had as much information in hand as they did.
"from a hundred thousand kilometers an SR-ninety can reveal three-dimensional images so sharp that you can distinguish the stitching on a soccer ball," stated Hollis.
"No question. But suppose the ball is camouflaged to look like a rock."
"I still don't know-"
"You'd see more clearly if we showed you," said Pitt. "The crew has set up a demonstration on deck."
The open deck on the stern had been covered over with a large, opaque blanket of white plastic, firmly secured to keep it taut and prevent it from billowing under the constant breeze. Captain Stewart stood by with two crew members who manned a fire hose.
"During our survey of the area around the General Bravo we recovered a roll of this plastic," Pitt lectured. "I believe it accidentally fell off the Lady Flamborough when the two vessels rendezvoused. It was sitting on the seabed among empty barrels of paint the hijackers used to remodel the cruise liner to resemble the Mexican container ship.
Granted, the evidence is inconclusive. You'll have to take my word for that. But it all points to another makeup job. Nothing showed on the last satellite photo because all eyes were searching for a ship. The Lady Flamborough no longer looks like one. The hijack leader must be into art appreciation. He took a page from the controversial sculptor Christo, who's famous for his outdoor sculptures in plastic. He wraps the stuff around buildings, coastlines and islands. He hung a monstrous curtain in Rifle Gap, Colorado, and made a fence running for miles in Mwill County, California. The chief hijacker went one better and wrapped the entire cruise liner. The liner is not a huge ship. The basic outline of her hull could have been altered by props and scaffolding. With the sheets all cut and numbered as to position, a hundred hostages and hijackers might have done the job in ten hours flat. They were working at it when the Landsat orbited overhead. The enhanced blowup was not clear enough to reveal details of the activity.
When the Seasat followed half a day later there was nothing to identify, no features conforming to a ship, any ship. Am I going too fast?"
"No . . ." Hollis said slowly. "But none of it makes a hell of a lot of sense."
"He must be from Missouri," Giordino said wryly. "Shall we show him?"
Pitt gave a brief nod to Captain Stewart.
"Okay, boys," said Stewart to his crewmen. "Once over lightly. "
One man turned the valve while the other aimed the nozzle.
A fine spray was turned on the plastic sheeting. At first the wind carried half the mist over the side. The crewman had ajusted the angle, and soon the plastic was coated with a watery film.
Before a full minute passed, the frigid atmosphere turned the water to ice.
Hollis observed the transformation pensively Then he walked up to Pitt and held out his hand. "My respects, sir. You made a sound call."
Dillenger stared like a rube who'd been suckered at a traveling carnival. "An iceberg," he muttered angrily. ,The sons of bitches made the ship into an iceberg."
Hala awoke cold and stiff. It was midmorning, yet there was still a level of darkness. The cargo container facade, combined with the ice-coated plastic shrouding the cruise liner, shut out most of the light. What little penetrated into the VIP suites was just sufficient to reveal the figures of Presidents Hasan and De Lorenzo on the bed next to her. Under one pitifully inadequate blanket, they huddled against one another for warmth, their frozen breaths hanging in vaporlike clouds above their heads before condensing and freezing on the walls.
The cold itself might have been tolerated, no matter how miserable, but the high humidity made the freezing temperatures unbearable. Their condition was further aggravated by not having had anything to eat since leaving Punta del Este. The hijackers made no effort to provide food for the passengers and crew. Ammar's inhuman callousness took its toll as and fear of the unknown the cold sapped their strength, drugged their minds.
for the first part of the voyage, the prisoners had survived on nothing but water out of the faucets in the bathroom showers and washbasins. But the pipes had frozen, and the torment of thirst was added to the ache of hunger.
The Lady Flamborough had been refitted to sail tropical seas and carried only a minimum supply of blankets. Everyone who came on board in Puerto Rico or Punta del Este had packed for a temperate climate and had left all winter clothing in closets at home. The prisoners bundled up as best they could, wearing several layers of lightweight shirts, pants and socks. They wrapped their heads in towels to retain body heat. The cold-weather gear they sorely missed most was gloves.
There was no warmth anywhere. Animar had refused all pleas to circulate heat throughout the ship. He could not afford the luxury. Interior heat would have melted the ice film on the plastic sheeting and sabotaged the deception.
Hala was not the only prisoner awake. Most had found it impossible to drop off into a sound sleep. They lay as if in a hypnotic trance, aware of their surroundings but unable to make any kind of physical effort.
any thoughts of resistance had rapidly drained away under the onslaught.
Instead of fighting the hijackers, Captain Collins and his crew were reduced to stru gling to stay alive against the numbing cold.
Hala raised to her elbows as Senator Pitt came into the room.
He made a strange appearance, wearing a gray business suit over a blue pinstripe. He gave Hala a smile of encouragement, but it was a pathetic effort. The fatigue of the past five days had taken away his youthful look, and he looked closer to his true age.
"How you holding up?" he asked.
"I'd give my right arm for a cup of hot tea," she said gamely.
"for my part, I'd give more than that."
President De Lorenzo sat up and dropped his feet on the deck. "Did someone say hot tea?"
"Just fantasizing, Mr. President," replied the Senator. "I never thought I'd find myself starving and freezing to death on a luxurious cruise ship."
"Nor I," said Hala.
President Hasan gave a slight moan as he changed position and lifted his head.
"Is your back bothering you?" asked President De Lorenzo, his face reflecting concern.
"I'm too cold to hurt," Hasan said with a tight smile.
"Can I help you up?"
"No, thank you. I think I'll just remain here in bed and conserve whatever strength I have left." Hasan looked at De Lorenzo and smiled thinly. "I wish we had met and become friends under more comfortable circumstances."
"I've heard the Americans say, 'Politics makes strange bedfellows." We seem to be a literal example."
"When we get out of this, you must be my guest in Egypt."
De Lorenzo nodded. "A reciprocal agreement. You must also visit Mexico."
"An honor I gladly accept.
The two Presidents solemnly shook hands on it-no longer pampered heads of state but two men whose lives shared a fate they could not control and were determined to end with dignity.
"The engines have stopped," said Hala suddenly.
Senator Pitt nodded. "The anchors were just dropped. We're moored, and they've shut down the engines."
"We must be near land."
"No way of telling with the port windows hidden."