Radar was useless now. Robert stared helplessly at a screen littered with shards of green static. The shards were icebergs, many as tall and wide as the Pentagon, and the Arctic Tern was a dot small enough to hide in their shadows. Just an hour ago, Robert was watching the dot racing toward what he thought at the time was an archipelago of islands. Now he knew why the Tern was headed there in such a hurry: to hide itself among the icebergs.
Robert stepped outside to the wing deck. Above him, the clouds looked like galvanized steel. Captain Zamora was not nearly as reckless as Aeneas, and the Roca was now traveling in slow motion, tiptoeing around the white giants, careful not to disturb them, lest one of them might awaken and roll over. Mother Nature was in charge now.
Lynda stood next to him. “Now I know why they painted their ship white,” she said.
“We’ll find them.”
“Zamora wants to radio them.”
“Tell him no.”
“I told him. But he’s going to call eventually.”
“Aeneas won’t respond.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I was with him when the Norwegian coast guard was on his tail. He never responded to them either. If you pretend your radio is broken, you can’t be accused of not pulling over when ordered.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Aeneas knows we’re here, but he doesn’t know if we’re a tourist vessel, a fishing trawler, or what. He can’t be sure until he sees us, or until Zamora gets on that radio and removes all doubt.”
He could feel Lynda watching him, but he looked past her as he surveyed the horizon.
“Noa was Darwin, wasn’t she?”
He raised his binoculars, as if he had seen something, but Lynda didn’t take the bait.
“You heard me, so I’ll just keep talking. Noa, the woman in that photo, the one you had your arm around, was Darwin, the suspect you had gone undercover to catch. And who, judging by the scant information you’ve provided, you did catch. Except, there’s no record of it, nobody in prison—no body at all, in fact.”
Robert looked at her finally. “What the hell are you getting at?”
“I’m trying to get at the truth. That’s what I do, Bobby. And I don’t appreciate being lied to, especially by my partner. That girl in the photo was Darwin. Right?”
Robert tried to convey a look of disinterest, but it was too late. She knew, and this little interplay was only to let him know that she knew.
“You still don’t trust me, do you?” she said. “What sad little world do you live in?”
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“You think you’re the first person in law enforcement history to boink a suspect?”
“I was a government agent.”
“You were a man trapped on a boat with a woman. It’s okay. I’ve seen her picture. She’s hot, in a Woodstock sort of way. These things happen.”
The satellite phone rang, and Lynda held it out to him. “It’s for you,” she said.
Robert looked at her. “Have you and Gordon been talking about this?”
“Jesus, Bobby, what would I have told him? I’m the last to know anything around here.”
He took the phone and waited until she returned to the bridge.
“Where have you been?” Gordon asked.
“Under the weather.”
“I thought you were immune to the ocean,” Gordon said.
“I used to be.”
“You have a visual yet?”
“No. But we’re close. I’m not sure if we should be chasing him through this ice field.”
“What does your partner say?”
“She thinks we should wait him out, until the ships get back into open water.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t think we’re going to see much open water. And Aeneas would welcome the extra time. He would love to have a military vessel in tow when he meets up with the Japanese; it might give the whalers the impression that the Argentines are after them.”
“I think you’re right. And you should know that Greenpeace already has a ship shadowing the whalers right now, which means video cameras, blogs, you name it. If you’re going to arrest him, best to take care of business now, before we become the stars of an anti-whaling documentary.”
“Exactly how badly do you want us to catch Aeneas?”
“He says he’s willing to martyr himself for the cause. If you happen to turn him into one, so be it.”
After hanging up, Robert picked up his binoculars, focusing again on the horizon. He was beginning to think that Aeneas had outsmarted him yet again, and then he saw it—movement between two icebergs. He looked again and noticed the faint blur of smoke rising from behind the ice. His heart jumped, and he returned to the bridge to find Lynda standing next to Zamora, who had the radio in his hand.
“What are you doing?” Robert asked. Zamora gave him a dismissive look.
“I warned him, Bobby, but it’s his ship.”
Robert felt the urge to grab the radio out of Zamora’s hands. “What did he say?” he asked Lynda.
“He told Aeneas to silence his engines.”
“Did Aeneas respond?”
“Nope.”
“Figures.”
“I bet he’d respond to you,” Lynda said. She said something to Zamora, who held out the handset to Robert. After a lengthy pause, he accepted it.
“Aeneas, pick up the mic,” Robert said into the speaker. No response. “Aeneas, I am offering you a chance to save your crew and your mission. If you surrender, they’ll be free to continue on to find the Japanese. But if I have to come get you myself, I will take you all in, boat included.”
The speaker crackled to life with a familiar voice, a sound that was as comforting as it was painful.
“Hello, Jake.”
“It’s Robert now.”
“What brings you to these parts?”
“A warrant with your name on it.”
“U.S. warrant?”
“That’s right, and Argentina has one as well. They say you’re a pirate.”
“Pirate, eh?” Aeneas let out a mock laugh. “Well, shiver me timbers.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No. I think it’s shameful. You should be helping us, not chasing us. And you, Robert, of all people should know that.”
“I have a job to do.”
“So do I.”
“You shouldn’t have killed that girl,” Robert said.
“A boatful of poachers killed that girl. Why don’t you arrest them?”
“They’re not on the warrant. You are. I’m sorry.” And as he spoke the words, he realized that he really was sorry, then he glanced over at Lynda, who wore a curious expression. He cleared his throat. “Silence your engines and prepare for boarding.”
“I missed that last message, you’re breaking up. We’re losing you.”
“Aeneas!” He turned to Lynda. “Tell Zamora to floor it.”