“It seems that President Lenclud just got his first good look at the Statue of Liberty. If you gentlemen would like to join us, the captain here says that the view of Lady Liberty from the starboard wing is not to be missed.”
Without waiting for a response to this offer, the President and the ship’s captain disappeared inside. Samuel Morrison wasted no time ducking into the wheelhouse himself, and as Vince pivoted to join him, his cellular phone began ringing. Remaining alone on the port wing, he pulled it from his jacket’s breast pocket and said curtly, “Kellogg.”
“Hey, big brother.”
“Your timing’s impeccable, Thomas. You’ll never believe where your call caught me.”
“I’d say that you’re just about to pass Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. Brittany and I are watching the sen doff on television. It looks like quite the event.”
Vince looked up at the circling helicopter. “It’s even better live.
Any news on our pen pal?”
“I’d love to give you all the dirty details, but let’s just say that we’re a little farther along the pike than our last conversation.”
“One step at a time,” advised Vince.
“Will do. If I get any hard news, I’ll contact you at sea via SATCOM.
So until then, bon voyage and enjoy that caviar!”
Vince rang off and entered the wheelhouse to join the others.
Inside he noted that yet another head of state had just arrived. With Tuff leading the way, President Li Chen and two hefty bodyguards made their way out onto the starboard observation wing.
Vince followed them outside. There was a flurry of excited greetings as the Chinese leader joined his five colleagues. Li Chen spoke excellent English, and after a warm exchange of greetings, a moment of contemplative silence followed. This hushed lapse was prompted by the breathtaking sight they were passing to starboard. Illuminated by a powerful bank of mercury-vapor lights, the Statue of Liberty looked out from her lofty vantage point, her torch of liberty glowing alive with a flickering red flame.
This was the first time that Vince had ever viewed the monument from the waters of New York Bay, and he found himself welling with emotion.
He could think of no more fitting image than this one to accompany them these next four and a half days. For if the upcoming summit was to be successful, it was imperative that the heads of state shared the same spirit of freedom engraved on the tablets held at Lady Liberty’s side.
As they sailed beneath the arched buttresses of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge the VIPs excused themselves. A late champagne supper for the summiteers was being served in the Queens Grill. Since Vince’s official shift ended at this point, he left the ship’s Bridge himself with the full intention of retiring to his stateroom. The next day’s shift was to begin at 0800 sharp, with the first official summit session scheduled to take place in the Boardroom at 0830.
Even though he had been going steadily now for over seventeen hours, Vince found himself wide awake and not the least bit tired. As he headed down to One Deck, he decided to use this free time to check out the ship’s Gym, one of the few public spaces he had yet to visit.
Deep in the bowels of the ship on Seven Deck, the first thing he saw as he entered the Gym was a large, rectangular swimming pool. To the right of the pool was a good sized carpeted room surrounded by mirrors and noticeably empty. Vince assumed that this was where the aerobics and dance classes were held.
In the left portion of the compartment stood the exercise machines.
There was a full Nautilus circuit, four Stair Masters three rowing machines, and four bicycles. A wraparound video screen was set up in front of the bikes, one of which still had protective bubble wrap covering it.
The screen itself allowed the bikers to choose from various courses where they could race against their fellow workout partners. It was a sophisticated piece of hardware and Vince wasn’t all that surprised to find a pair of legs clad in blue jeans extending from beneath its video projector. An open tool box was beside them.
“Excuse me,” he said loudly. “Problems with the video screen?”
“These damn high-tech toys are all alike,” responded a male voice with a slight Southern accent to it.
Moments later, the speaker crawled out from beneath the projector.
Whoever he was, Vince had yet to meet this middle-aged, rail-thin character, with slicked-back, dark brown hair, and narrow, green eyes.
He wore a gray sweatshirt with the words liu’s gym stenciled on the chest and had an unlit cigarette dangling from his thin lips.
“Good evening. Sorry to bother you, but when I saw the lights on, I couldn’t resist coming in and having a look around.
Vince Kellogg’s the name.”
A sardonic grin painted the stranger’s narrow face as he stood.
“Kellogg, like the cereal?”
Vince nodded.
“No kidding. Your pappy didn’t invent corn flakes, did he?”
“I’m afraid he didn’t,” replied Vince. He sensed something about this man that made him uneasy.
Before he could question him further, a female voice rose from behind Vince. “Is something wrong out there, Max?”
Vince looked up into the mirrored wall set before him and caught sight of the reflection of a gorgeous woman standing in the doorway of the Gym’s office. She was dressed in tight, flesh-colored leotards that showed every inch of her shapely, lean body. Yet it was her face that drew his full attention. She had a wild mane of long, curly, red hair, exquisitely framing her sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. She appeared to be Eurasian. As Vince turned around to introduce himself, he remembered the film in which he had seen her.
“I bet you’re Monica Chang,” he offered.
She stepped out into the room to offer him her hand, saying, “Guilty as charged. And my accuser is?”
Vince took her soft hand. He found himself swallowed by her fathomless, catlike eyes. An awkward period of silence followed when he suddenly realized that he had yet to answer her.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Chang. Vince Kellogg at your service, ma’am.”
The actress was well aware of her effect on members’ of the opposite sex, even married ones, and she took his flustered reply in stride. “I certainly hope you didn’t come down here to work out with us this evening, Vince. I’m afraid the facility won’t be fully operational until tomorrow.”
“That’s quite all right,” said Vince. “As I told your associate, I was doing some exploring of the ship, and when I saw the lights down here, I decided to take a look.”
Monica sauntered over to the exercise bikes to complete the introductions. “I take it that you’ve yet to meet our resident computer genius, Max Kurtyka. As you might have heard, there were some electrical problems during the previous crossing. It destroyed the components of several of the machines. We most probably would have closed the entire facility during the summit if it wasn’t for Max being available to help us install this new equipment.”
Max thanked her with a leer aimed squarely at her bust. Vince felt sorry the actress was forced to rely on such a distasteful person.
“Now you’ll be certain to give us a try tomorrow, Vince,” Monica offered.
“It looks like I’ve got the early shift, ma’am. But if I can manage to coax some life into these old bones, you can bank on seeing me later in the day.”
“I gather that you’ve got an official function with the summit,” she observed. “May I be so bold as to ask what it is?”
“I’m a special agent with the U. S. Secret Service.”
This revelation caught her full attention, and she smiled once more.