Black wind

inlet.
    The four SEALs made their way back to the beached sampan and silently crawled inside. The mock fishermen suddenly found the cure to the ailing motor and restarted the outboard engine. With more vocal cursing, they cruised past Kang’s inlet and motored off into the night.
    Once out of sight, McCasland sat up and took off his faceplate, taking a breath full of the dank port air while staring at the twinkling waterfront lights. A drop of rain struck him on the face, then another and another. Shaking his head, he sat silently while a healthy deluge opened up from the skies on the frustrated commando.
    Webster, Peterson, and Burroughs returned to the NUMA headquarters building at exactly six o’clock and found a subdued scene when they arrived at Gunn’s office. The results of the SEAL team’s reconnaissance mission had just been received, and Gunn, Dirk, and Summer sat morosely discussing the report.
    “Disappointing news, I’m afraid,” Gunn said. “The cable ship wasn’t there.”
    “How could it come and go without being seen?” Webster wondered. “We’ve got Interpol and customs authorities on the lookout for that vessel all throughout Asia Pacific.”
    “Perhaps a few of them are on Kang’s payroll,” Summer said.
    Webster brushed aside the suggestion. “We’re certain the reconnaissance team didn’t misidentify anything?”
    “There apparently was nothing in the enclosed dock to see. A video feed of the surveillance is being sent by satellite right now. We can take a look for ourselves on the admiral’s viewing monitor,” Gunn replied.
    For the second time that day, he led a procession to the admiral’s former office. As he approached the corner suite, he was surprised to hear a familiar laugh emanating from the office as a hazy cloud of smoke drifted out the open door.
    Entering the threshold, Gunn was shocked to find Al Giordino sitting on the couch. With a wild wave of his dark curly hair askew, the newly appointed NUMA director of underwater technology sat reclining with his legs up on the coffee table, a stubby cigar dangling from his lips. He was dressed in a worn NUMA jumpsuit and looked like he just stepped off a boat.
    “Rudi, my boy, here flogging the crew a little late tonight, aren’t we?” Giordino asked before blowing a puff of smoke from the cigar skyward.
    “Somebody’s got to mind the store while you’re out basking on a warm tropical beach.”
    Dirk and Summer grinned as they entered the room and spotted Giordino, who was like a favorite uncle to them. They didn’t immediately see their father, who stood at the opposite end of the office gazing at the lights across the Potomac. His six-foot-three frame stood tall against the window, having lost little of its younger muscular leanness. A touch of gray at the temples and a few slight wrinkles around the eyes hinted at his age. The weathered, tan face of Dirk Pitt, the legendary special projects director and now head of NUMA, broke into a broad grin at the sight of his children.
    “Dirk, Summer,” he said, his sparkling green eyes glowing with warmth as he threw his arms around his two kids.
    “Dad, we thought you and Al were still in the Philippines,” Summer said after giving her father a hug and a peck on the cheek.
    “Are you kidding?” Giordino piped in. “The old man practically swam across the Pacific to get back here when he heard you were missing.”
    The elder Pitt smiled. “I was just jealous of you two taking a tour of Northeast Asia without me,” he grinned.
    “We made some notes of places to avoid,” Dirk laughed in reply.
    Pitt visibly warmed in the presence of his two kids. The veteran marine engineer brimmed with a radiant serenity at the world that had recently changed around him. His personal life had been completely jarred by the sudden appearance of his two grown children just a few years earlier whom he never knew existed. But they quickly became a close part of his life, joining him in his underwater work, as well as sharing personal time with him and his new wife. The sudden dose of responsibility had nudged him to take stock of his life and he had finally married his longtime love, Colorado congresswoman Loren Smith. But the changes continued, as even his professional life saw an upheaval. With Admiral Sandecker unexpectedly taking the vice presidency, Pitt was suddenly thrust into the top spot at NUMA. While special projects director, he experienced several lifetimes’ worth