Black wind

though unsuccessful, seemed to have achieved Kang’s desired outcome. The single-minded media applied their full reporting resources to the incident. Constant news coverage focused strictly on the investigation and speculation about possible retaliation measures to take against the shadowy Japanese terrorist group. Lost in the news was the issue of Korea and the pending vote in the National Assembly over the removal of U.S. troops from the South Korean Peninsula.
    As the media ran dry of new facts about the failed rocket launch, they turned their attention toward hero-making. The Sea Launch platform crew was nearly mugged by reporters when they stepped off the Deep Endeavor in Long Beach. Many of the tired crewmen were given just a few hours’ rest, then helicoptered back to the Odyssey to patch up the holes Pitt had carved in the support structure and sail the listing platform back to port. Those escaping work duty were badgered for in-depth interviews about their capture and imprisonment aboard the platform, as well as their later rescue by Pitt and Giordino in the blimp. The men from NUMA were lionized as heroes and every news media organization was on the hunt for them. But they were nowhere to be found.
    After setting the perforated blimp down on an unused runway at LAX, the men beat it down to Long Beach, where they met the docking Deep Endeavor. Slipping quietly aboard after the Sea Launch crew departed, they were warmly greeted by a relieved Summer and the ship’s crew. Dahlgren was happy to see the mangled Badger sitting upright on the fantail deck.
    “Kermit, we’ve got another search ahead of us,” Pitt said to Burch. “How soon can we be under way?”
    “Just as soon as Dirk and Summer step ashore. Sorry, son,” he said, turning to the younger Pitt, “but I’m afraid Rudi called. He’s been trying to track all four of you guys down for the last two hours. Says the top brass wants to talk to you and Summer. They need your insight on the bad guys, and right away.”
    “Some guys get all the luck,” Giordino said, grinning at Dirk’s misfortune.
    “Seems like we never get much time with you,” Summer frowned at her father.
    “We’ll get the next dive in together,” Pitt said, throwing an arm around each of his kids’ shoulders. “I promise.”
    “I’ll be counting on it,” Summer replied, giving her father a kiss to the cheek.
    “Me too,” Dirk said. “And thanks for the blimp ride, Mad Al. Next time, I’m going Greyhound.”
    “The highbrow type, eh?” Giordino replied, shaking his head.
    Dirk and Summer said a quick good-bye to Dahlgren and the other men on the bridge, then hopped off the Deep Endeavor as the vessel backed away from the dock. A feeling of satisfaction should have beat through them, but, with Dirk, an underlying anger still brewed. The deadly virus strike had been prevented, the Koguryo was captured, and even Tongju was dead. More selfishly, Sarah was safe as well. But on the other side of the world, Kang still breathed. As they moved down the pier, Dirk felt Summer hesitating beside him and he turned and stopped so she could wave a friendly farewell to the ship. He stared and waved as well, but his mind was churning elsewhere. Together, they stood and watched a long while as the turquoise NUMA ship chugged out the harbor and eased slowly toward the western horizon.
    Well before the Homeland Security investigation team thought to round up all available search and salvage vessels and comb for the sunken rocket debris, the Deep Endeavor had already slipped her towed sonar array fish over the side and was scanning the depths for the remains of the payload. Captain Burch had anticipated a salvage operation and knew precisely where to start searching. While standing on the deck of the Deep Endeavor watching the Zenit disintegrate across the sky, he had carefully tracked the trajectory of the debris and marked on a nautical chart an impact zone where he thought the nose cone struck the water.
    “If the payload remained intact, it should be somewhere within that box,” he told Pitt as they chugged back to sea, pointing to a nine-square-mile grid penciled on the chart. “Though we’re probably dealing with a scattered debris field.”
    “Whatever is left has only been sitting on the bottom a few hours,
    so we’ll have a fresh profile at least,” Pitt replied, studying the chart. Burch guided the Deep Endeavor to a corner of the grid, where they began running