Black wind

daily report of NUMA research vessel assignments. “Let’s see, the Pacific Explorer just arrived in Vancouver, the Blue Gill is conducting a marine survey off Drake’s Bay north of San Francisco, and the Deep Endeavor is testing a submersible in San Diego. It’s not a
    fleet of battleships but I can reassign three of my research vessels to be in position off the major West Coast metropolitan ports assisting the Coast Guard in two days.”
    “That would be a significant boost in offshore resources. And I’m sure the Coast Guard would be grateful for the support,” Webster said.
    “Call it a temporary loan,” Pitt said. “At least until Rudi can find a way to bill back the charges.”
    “I’m sure we can work out some sort of compensation for our support during this heightened state of alert,” Gunn said, eyeing Webster with a sharklike grin.
    “It’s settled, then. The West Coast NUMA fleet will initiate offshore bomb-sniffing exercises at once. One thing, though,” Pitt said to Webster in a rigid tone. “Kang already sank one of my vessels, I don’t want to lose another. I want an armed cutter in the vicinity of my ships at all times.”
    “Agreed. The interdiction teams will be alerted as well to the possibility of an armed response.”
    “Good. Our team here will coordinate with the regional Coast Guard surveillance squadrons. Rudi, you’ll have to tear yourself out of the headquarters building. I’d like you to fly to San Francisco to set up the Blue Gillwith the regional Coast Guard squadron and then see that the Pacific Explorer is similarly assigned in the Seattle/ Vancouver region. Dirk and Summer, I’d like you back on the Deep Endeavor in San Diego to assist with surveillance off Southern California,” Pitt directed.
    “What about me, boss?” Giordino asked with mock indignation. “Don’t I get a boat inspector’s pass?”
    “Oh, no,” Pitt replied with a mischievous smile. “I have something much higher in store for you.”
    There was little fanfare when a pair of scruffy tugboats began slowly nudging the Sea Launch platform Odyssey away from her home dock. The excitement surrounding a new launch had waned over the years, to the extent that only a handful of family, friends, and corporate managers stood and waved good-bye to the crew. A smaller platform crew also brought out fewer than normal well-wishers. Only forty-two men manned the big platform, roughly twenty fewer than usual, as Launch Director Stamp held back many of the launch engineers to aid the fire repairs being made on the support ship. Captain Christiano watched restlessly from the bridge of the Sea Launch Commander v& the rocket-laden platform crept away from the pier, offering a farewell to the crew and vessel with a long blast from his ship’s horn. Several decks beneath him, an army of electricians and computer technicians worked feverishly around the clock to repair the control room fire damage in hopes that the command ship could follow the platform out to sea in another three or four days.
    Christiano’s greeting was met by a short horn blast from the Odyssey that seemed to come from the clouds. The Odyssey’s main platform deck towered nearly a hundred feet above the water. An oceangoing vessel in her own right, the floating platform relied on tugboats to get her cleanly in and out of port. Although she could position herself on a dime, visibility of small boats and harbor obstacles was precarious from the pilothouse positioned high atop the structure so tugs were utilized for safe navigation in congested waters.
    The massive structure moved slowly past the port entrance jetty, appearing like a mammoth tarantula creeping across the calm waters. The converted North Sea oil platform rode high atop five thick support columns aligned along each flank. Slicing through the waves barely above the surface, the base of the columns rested upon a huge pair of underwater pontoons, each stretching over four hundred feet in length. Affixed to each aft pontoon hull was a pair of four-bladed propellers, which could push the ungainly craft through the swells at speeds of up to 12 knots. At over thirty thousand tons of displacement, the Odyssey was the largest self-propelled catamaran vessel in the world and easily the most impressive to the eye. Gliding past the entrance to Long Beach Harbor, the platform crept another two miles offshore before the tugs ground to a halt.
    “Stand by to take up tow lines barked the