Death Echo

Prologue
    DAY ONE
MANHATTAN
9:00 A.M .
    Y ou must believe me. St. Kilda Consulting is our best hope.”
    Ambassador James Steele pinched the bridge of his nose and wished he had never met the woman who now sat opposite his desk. “Alara…”
    â€œI’m no longer called that.”
    Steele blew out a hard breath and wheeled his chair back from his desk. Very few people on earth could make him uncomfortable. The woman no longer called Alara was one of them.
    And one of the most dangerous.
    â€œJust as I no longer work for the government,” Steele said.
    â€œWe established that years ago.” Alara smiled almost sadly. Her silver hair gleamed, hair that once had been as black as her eyes. “In the shadow world, St. Kilda Consulting has made quite a reputation for itself. Trust is rare in any world. Even more so in the shadows.”
    â€œYou’re asking him to break that trust,” Emma Cross said, speaking up for the first time in fifteen minutes.
    Steele and Alara turned sharply toward Emma, telling her what she’d already guessed—they had forgotten she was there.
    All emotion faded from Alara’s expression. It was replaced by the frightening intelligence that had made her a legend within the nameless, anonymously funded government agencies whose initials changed frequently but whose purpose never changed.
    â€œI came in soft,” Alara said coolly, “requesting, not threatening. I don’t have time for games with disillusioned children.” She looked at Steele. “According to our intelligence, America could lose a major population center in less than seven days. We need St. Kilda to prevent that. We will have what we need.”
    Without looking away from Alara, Steele said, “Emma, summarize the facts as they were presented to us.”
    Emma’s light green eyes watched her boss for a moment. Then she began speaking quickly, without emotion. “As given to us, no questions asked or qualifications offered. Ms. Alara’s department or departments have been following various overseas entities. One of those entities is suspected—”
    â€œKnown not suspected,” Alara cut in.
    â€œâ€”of stealing and reselling yachts,” Emma continued without pause. “One of the stolen yachts was specially modified to hold contraband—chemical, biological, and/or radioactive. Motives, whether the actors are state or nonstate, weren’t part of Alara’s presentation, which will make finding and stopping who or whatever is the enemy before time runs out just this side of impossible.” She looked at Alara. “No surprise the bureaucrats and politicians want to dump this steaming pile on St. Kilda’s doorstep.”
    Steele almost smiled. Emma Cross had a pretty face and a bottom-line mind.
    â€œThe excuse for said dumping,” Emma continued, turning back to Steele, “is that St. Kilda has an agent who has been investigating missing yachts for an international insurer. The yacht, Blackbird, which I have been tracing, is a dead ringer for the stolen, refitted, and purportedly dangerous yacht pursued by Alara’s department. Or departments. The person, group, or entities responsible for theft of the nameless yacht weren’t identified. At all.”
    Alara’s still-black eyebrows rose, but she said nothing aboutEmma’s coolly mocking summary. The older woman simply sat in her crisp business suit and pumps, looking like an employee of a middle-management team, back when women were called secretaries rather than administrative assistants.
    â€œSatellite tracking and other intel confirm that a yacht believed to be Blackbird will be off-loaded from the container ship Shinhua Lotus at approximately fifteen hundred hours Pacific Coast time,” Emma continued. “According to St. Kilda’s investigation, an unknown transit captain will pick up the boat in Port of Seattle. We have no assurance that the yacht aboard the container ship is the same one that originally was loaded aboard the Lotus . We won’t have that assurance until someone finds a way to get aboard either the container ship or the yacht. I’m sure our would-be ‘client’ has the resources to covertly conduct that search.”
    â€œHad,” Alara said. “Past tense.”
    â€œYou have a leak,” Emma said bluntly.
    â€œAlways probable,” Alara said. “St. Kilda has carefully and