Morning found him reunited with Beowulf. They continued their sweep right where they left off, and Vince got his first close-up view of the ship’s Kitchen. The facility was much larger than he had expected, and he realized what an important place food had aboard the QE2. Dozens of sous-chefs worked behind row upon row of stainless steel counters preparing that day’s menu. It was difficult to keep Beowulf focused with all the intoxicating scents, and they did their best to cover the Grill, Bakery, and dishwashing area.
It was alongside one of the dishwashers that they chanced upon Bernhard Langer, Dr. Benedict, and Dr. Patton. They were checking the temperature of a recently completed cleaning cycle, and the head chefs eyes opened wide with horror upon spotting Beowulf. Vince revealed the serious nature of their business, and Langer reluctantly allowed them to carry on, although he signaled a busboy to wipe everywhere the dog stepped, sniffed, or brushed against.
It was in the crew’s quarters that the first contraband was discovered. Beowulf’s furious pawing at a mattress led to the finding of an ounce of marijuana. Tuff was tasked to deal with the miscreant, who turned out to be one of the stewards.
After lunch, they headed topside to inspect the exterior decks. It was a warm, breezy afternoon and the heads of state appeared to be making the most of it.
They encountered the president of France and the Canadian prime minister sprawled out on poolside lounges, chatting away in animated French. The prime ministers of Britain and Japan were discovered inside the netted enclosure that comprised the golf driving range. Both casually dressed statesmen held pitching wedges and appeared deeply immersed in an anecdote-reinforced tip Robert Hartwell was sharing with them.
The German chancellor and the Italian prime minister were playing deck tennis. The German was dominating the game, which turned ugly when a disputed line call turned into a spirited argument, with each player protesting in his native language.
Beowulf answered them with a resounding bark and led the way up the stairway to the Boat Deck. This was where the QE2’s lifeboats were located. It was also where they discovered the presidents of China and the United States power-walking on the teak-inlaid track.
The two statesmen passed by as Beowulf began his inspection of the stern boat. Vince had walked with the American President in the past, and knew he took his exercise most seriously.
“Good afternoon, Special Agent,” greeted the President without breaking his brisk stride. “This walk sure wins the prize for the most spectacular scenery.”
“That it does, sir,” Vince replied, while accepting a polite nod from President Li.
Once the lifeboats were given the all clear, they headed inside to work their way forward. As Beowulf checked the ship’s extensive Library, Vince spotted Ricky Patton and Kristin Liu browsing in the adjoining Bookstore. Vince didn’t have the heart to interrupt them and only waved hello before continuing on to the Bridge.
This was where they chanced upon the final head of state. The Russian president and his translator were gathered around the ship’s prototype navigation console. Steve Smith was showing them its many advanced features, and Vince watched as the navigator displayed the low-pressure storm system that lay to the east of them.
Their next visit was to the Radio Room. Vince took advantage of this stop to attempt contacting his brother. While Beowulf sniffed the compartment’s equipment, Vince learned that atmospheric problems had now put all calls to the outside world on temporary hold. The French communications satellite that it was hoped would solve this problem was in the process of being repositioned, and the radio officer promised him that once the system was on-line, his call would get priority.
It was both frustrating and frightening to be surrounded by all this sophisticated gear and still be unable to make contact with Washington.
For all he knew, Thomas could have information vital to their current search and there was absolutely nothing he could do to access it.
15
Thomas chose the small mining town of Holly, West Virginia, as their base of operations. They arrived with the dawn, in two black Hueys that touched down on an abandoned baseball field. Director McShane had insisted that a six-man special-response team accompany them. This heavily armed unit would provide the necessary firepower should their reception be a hostile one.
Both Thomas and Mike Galloway were decked out in the same camouflage fatigues as their six associates. Each of the men also wore a layer of lightweight body armor, combat boots, and Kevlar-lined helmets.
The U. S. Forestry Service provided ground support. The senior ranger had previously helped the atf. break up a major bootlegging operation in nearby Mill Creek. During the course of this raid, a blazing gun battle had resulted in the wounding of two agents and the death of one of the moonshiners.
Before climbing into the trio of all-terrain vehicles that would be conveying them into the mountains, Thomas gathered together his assault force. He emphasized that gunplay was to be avoided if at all possible.
As authorized by a federal search warrant, their sole goal was to determine if the Holly River Patriots were in any way involved with the two leds mailed from the Winchester post office.
The Forest Service ranger shared what little he knew about their suspects. They occupied a hundred-acre site that abutted the much larger Holly River wilderness preserve. He had only visited their compound once before, when a forest fire threatened to head their way.
Like most self-styled militia groups, they were tightlipped, reclusive, and suspicious of the ranger’s offer of assistance. The portion of camp he visited was comprised of several wooden A-frames. The structures were set into a grove of old-growth forest, and from what little he saw, they appeared sturdily built and well cared for.
The only complaint that had ever involved the Holly River Patriots took place when a group of Boy Scouts stumbled upon several militia members in the midst of an orienteering exercise. The militiamen were decked out in full battle dress and appeared to be armed with assault rifles.
It was later learned that the weapons were harmless replicas carried as realistic props.
So that they’d be prepared for any contingency, the special-response team was outfitted with a variety of very real weapons including M4 assault rifles, Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine guns, and an assortment of sidearms. Thomas’s weapon of choice was a trusty 45 caliber Colt handgun. Mike Galloway was taking along a 9mm Browning, and together they made certain that the safeties were engaged before boarding the dark green Forest Service vehicles.
The roads they traveled got progressively worse, going from asphalt to gravel to a narrow dirt track whose surface was nothing but a pair of deep ruts. Frequent stream crossings made this transit an uncomfortable one, and Thomas was relieved when they finally braked to a halt forty-five minutes after leaving Holly.
They now set off by foot through stands of virgin pine. A thick canopy of limbs all but blotted out the morning sun, and pockets of dense fog were encountered as they crossed through an occasional hollow.
Thomas had taken up a position behind the ranger, who was their point man. Their pace was quick — it took a full effort on his part to keep up.
A check of his compass showed that the earthen trail was taking them in a northwesterly direction, and Thomas was grateful for the services of their expert guide.
As they crossed over a brook, a spooked deer bounded out of a thicket.
A raven’s harsh cry sounded from above, and Thomas marveled at the area’s pastoral beauty.