"The Coast Guard and police scoured the harbor. They found three boats scuttled in the marshes on a harbor island, the hulls shot full of holes."
"I understand there were some injuries."
"The tugboat crewmen were wounded, but they had the presence of mind to play dead."
"What of the Russian, the man you call Ivan?"
"He was only grazed by the bullet and is doing fine."
"What did Razov have to say about these pirates?"
"Nothing. He cut his party short, kicked his guests off the yacht and sailed out of the harbor before anyone could ask him questions."
"This Razov is a shifty character," Sandecker said with a j knitted brow. "We've got our work cut out for us. We've been keeping an eye on him since he left Boston?"
Gunn nodded. "Satellite surveillance had him heading at a leisurely pace along the Maine coast."
"Just a gentleman yachtsman out for a cruise," Sandecker said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I've asked the satellite department to run the latest results over here for this meeting," Gunn said.
The door opened, and a Secret Service man stepped inside. "The boss is on his way," he said.
A bustle of activity could be heard in the hall and President Wallace came through the door, wearing his trademark smile, his outstretched hand cocked for action. The towering figure of Vice President Sid Sparkman was a step behind. After a round of handshakes, the president settled behind his desk, and as usual the vice president drew up a chair close at his right elbow, emphasizing his place in the executive hierarchy.
"Glad you asked for this meeting," the president said. "Gives me the chance to thank you personally for saving the folks from the NR-1."
Sandecker acknowledged the thank-you and added, "Kurt and the others in the NUMA Special Assignments Team deserve the real credit."
The president's eyes narrowed. "I heard about that business in Boston, Kurt. What sort of a lunatic would shoot up Old lronsides?"
"The same type of lunatic who would order the massacre of a NUMA crew, Mr. President. Mikhail Razov."
The vice president leaned forward in his chair as if he were using his body mass to intimidate. "Mikhail Razov is a prominent figure in his country," he said, his smile belied by the fierce expression in his eyes. "You're talking about the man who might be the next leader of Russia. What evidence do you have that he's involved in any of this business?"
Austin leaned forward as well, emphasizing his broad shoulders. "The best kind of evidence. An eyewitness."
"I read the report on the Sea Hunter attack. The ravings of a hysterical woman," Sparkman said, with a snort.
Austin felt the bile rising in his throat. "Hysterical, yes; ravings, no. Razov's man Boris made sure we knew the attack was retribution for trespassing on the old Soviet sub pens."
"I'm glad you used the word trespass, because that's what it was, an illegal violation of another country's national sovereignty."
Austin's mouth widened in a grin, but his gaze had the look of a lion regarding a wounded wildebeest. Sandecker saw Kurt ready himself to unsheathe his claws and deflected the attack. "What's done is done, I'm afraid. We've got more to worry about now, gentlemen. The prospect of a plot against the United States. With all due respect, Mr. Vice President, we believe that the man behind this threat is Mikhail Razov."
"That's ridiculous – " the vice president said. The president silenced him with his hand.
"Razov expects to rise on the crest of a neo-Cossack revolution," explained Austin. "Claiming to be descended from the Romanovs gives him legitimacy in the eyes of his fanatical supporters, who will follow him to the death."
"Any truth to his claims?"
"We don't know, Mr. President. We do have evidence that the Grand Duchess Maria, one of the tsar's daughters, survived the Russian Revolution and went on to marry and have children."
"Maria? The only one I've ever heard of was Anastasia," the president said. "Saw that Walt Disney picture." He toyed with a pen on his desk. "Fascinating. Does Razov have any proof to back up his bloodline?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if he had a birth certificate. The Russians have decades of experience forging documents under communist rule. We believe he will buttress his claim with the crown of Ivan the Terrible. The crown is said to bestow mystical power upon its wearer. Razov will say that only the rightful ruler of Russia would have the crown. Once he's in power, I doubt if anyone would bother him for a DNA sample."
"He has this crown?"
"Maybe. We found a jewelry box containing a list of the tsarist treasures being carried on the Odessa Sta1: The crown was not included."
"What about DNA?"
"Once Razov is in power, he could fabricate any DNA evidence he needed. It would be a simple thing."
"The Russian people are pretty sophisticated, for all their problems," the president said. "Do you really think they'll buy a cock-and-bull story like that?"
Sandecker's lips tightened in a smile. "As an elected official, you've had more experience than I have with the ability of politicians to bamboozle the public."
The president cleared his throat. "Yes, I see what you mean. He wouldn't be the first tinhorn dictator to sell his people a bill of goods. We know Razov is furious at the United States for trying to paint him out of the political picture. Sounds like he intends to call our bluff, use this so-called threat as a little blackmail to get us to pull back. Well, I've got news for Mr. Razov. The United States won't be blackmailed. If we let Razov get away with this, there will be no end to the threats."
"It may be more complicated than simple blackmail," Austin said, recalling the story Petrov had told him about Razov's girlfriend. "Razov had a fiancee, a young woman who was going to be his tsarina. She was visiting Yugoslavia during the NATO air raids on Belgrade and was accidentally killed by a bomb from an American plane. It's given him a deep hatred of the United States."
Sandecker rejoined the discussion. "What Kurt is saying is that Razov's animosity toward the United States goes beyond our efforts to frustrate his political career. My guess is that neutralizing the U.S. fits in with his nationalist ambitions, but that he intends to satisfy his thirst for vengeance as well."
The president leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers across his chest. "It's the last part that interests me, Admiral. How's he propose to knock us out of the game?"
"We think Razov has found a way to release the energy stored in pockets of methane hydrates under the continental shelf off the East Coast," Sandecker said. "By destabilizing the shelf, he can cause massive underwater landslides that create tsunamis, giant waves that can be directed at specific targets."
A look of pure astonishment crossed the president's face. He sat bolt upright. "Are you saying Razov plans to launch giant waves against the U.S.?"
"He already has. He sent that wave into Rocky Point."
Turning to Sparkman, the president said, "Sid, I signed off on the federal disaster aid to Rocky Point. Did anyone say it was connected to terrorism?"
"No, Mr. President. Nobody I've talked to thinks the wave was anything other than a natural occurrence. In this case, caused by an undersea earthquake."
"Well, Admiral?" the president said to Sandecker. "Perhaps if we heard from an authority on the subject, it might allay any doubts."
"That seems like a good idea," the president said. "When can you line up your expert?"
"As long as it takes to summon him from the reception room. Actually, I've brought along two experts, Dr. Leroy Jenkins, an oceanographer formerly with the University of Maine, and Dr. Hank Reed, a geochemist with NUMA."
"You never go anywhere without backup, do you, James?" the president said, with a smile.
"It's my old academy training. Why fire one torpedo when you can launch a whole spread? I've also taken the liberty of inviting NUMA's chief computer programmer, Hiram Yaeger."