cc.floodtide-第7章

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Yaeger；　enhanced　and　fleshed　out；　stared　back　at　him。
　
　〃Well；　Max；　you　ready　to　go　cruising？〃　Yaeger　asked　the　image。
　〃I　am　prime；〃　replied　a　disembodied　voice。
　〃Acquire　all　available　information　on　a　Qin　Shang；　a　Chinese　shipping…pany　owner；　whose　main　office　is　in　Hong　Kong。〃
　〃Data　insufficient　for　a　detailed　report；〃　said　Max　in　a　monotone。
　〃Not　much　to　go　on；　I　admit；〃　said　Yaeger；　never　quite　getting　the　hang　of　talking　to　a　nebulous　image　produced　by　a　machine。　〃Do　the　best　you　can。　Print　out　your　findings　when　you've　exhausted　all　the　networks。〃
　〃I　will　get　back　to　you　shortly；〃　droned　Max。
　Yaeger　stared　at　the　space　vacated　by　his　holographic　likeness；　his　eyes　narrow　and　questioning。　Pitt　had　never　asked　him　to　research　and　build　a　file　unless　he　had　good　reason。　Something；　Yaeger　knew；　was　running　around　in　his　Mend's　head。　Quandaries　and　enigmas　followed　Pitt　around　like　puppy　dogs。　He　was　drawn　to　trouble　like　salmon　to　their　spawning　grounds。　Yaeger　hoped　Pitt　would　reveal　the　mystery。　He　always　did；　he　always　had　to　when　his　projects　went　beyond　the　mere　realm　of　casual　interest。
　
　〃What　in　hell　is　the　crazy　bastard　up　to　this　time？〃　Yaeger　muttered　to　his　puter。
　
　ORION　LAKE　WAS　SHAPED　LIKE　A　SLENDER　TEARDROP　WHOSE　lower　end　gently　tapered　into　a　small　river。　Not　a　large　body　of　water　but　alluring　and　mystical；　its　shores　were　bordered　by　an　ocean　of　dense　green　forests　that　sloped　up　the　gray　rock　bluffs　of　the　majestic；　cloud…shrouded　Olympic　Mountains。　Vividly　colored　spring　wildflowers　bloomed　beneath　the　trees　and　in　small　meadows。　Meltwater　from　high…country　glaciers　fed　into　the　lake　through　several　streams；　carrying　minerals　that　gave　the　water　a　crystal　blue…green　color。　The　cobalt　sky　above　was　garnished　with　fast…moving　clouds；　all　reflecting　off　the　water；　which　gave　them　a　light　turquoise　tint。
　
　The　flow　of　water　that　drained　from　the　lower　tip　of　the　teardrop　was　appropriately　called　the　Orion　River。　Running　peacefully　through　a　canyon　sliced　between　the　mountains；　the　river　traveled　sixteen　miles　before　emptying　into　the　upper　end　of　a　fjordlike　inlet　called　Grapevine　Bay。　Carved　by　an　ancient　glacier；　Grapevine　Bay　opened　into　the　Pacific　Ocean。　The　river；　once　traveled　by　fishing　boats　that　unloaded　their　catch　at　the　old　cannery；　was　now　only　used　by　pleasure　boats　and　fishermen。
　
　The　next　afternoon　after　his　trip　to　town；　Pitt　stepped　from　the　cabin　onto　the　porch　and　inhaled。　A　light　rain　had　e　and　passed；　leaving　the　air　like　perfume　to　the　lungs；　pure　and　intoxicating。　The　sun　had　fallen　behind　the　mountains；　its　final　rays　angling　down　through　the　ravines　between　the　peaks。　It　was　a　timeless　scene。　Only　the　abandoned　homes　and　cabins　gave　the　lake　a　haunted　look。
　
　He　stepped　across　a　narrow　wooden　pier　leading　from　the　beach　to　a　boathouse　that　floated　on　the　water。　He　selected　a　key　on　a　ring　and　sprung　the　heavy　padlock　sealing　the　weatherworn　wooden　door。　The　interior　was　dark。　No　bugs　or　cameras　in　here；　he　thought　as　he　pushed　the　door　wide　open。　Suspended　over　the　water　by　cradles　attached　to　an　electric　hoist；　a　little　ten…foot　sailboat　and　a　twenty…one…foot　1933　Chris…Craft　runabout　with　a　double　cockpit　and　a　gleaming　mahogany　hull　hung　inside　the　boathouse。　Two　kayaks　and　a　canoe　sat　in　racks　along　both　walls。
　
　He　walked　over　to　an　electric…circuit　box　and　snapped　on　a　single　breaker。　Then　he　took　the　control　unit　that　was　wired　to　the　hoist　and　pushed　a　button。　The　hoist　whirred　as　it　moved　over　the　sailboat。　Pitt　slid　the　hook　that　dangled　from　the　hoist　though　a　metal　loop　on　the　cradle　and　lowered　it。　For　the　first　time　in　many　months；　the　sailboat's　fiberglass　hull　settled　into　the　water。
　
　Pitt　removed　the　neatly　folded　sails　from　a　locker　and　assembled　the　aluminum　mast　and　added　the　rigging。　Then　he　set　the　tiller　in　its　spindles　and　inserted　the　centerboard。　After　nearly　half　an　hour；　the　little　boat　was　ready　to　fill　her　sails　with　wind。　Only　the　mast　had　to　be　stepped；　a　small　chore　that　could　only　take　place　after　the　hull　was　pushed　from　under　the　roof　of　the　boathouse。
　
　Satisfied　everything　was　in　order；　Pitt　casually　walked　back　to　the　cabin　and　unpacked　one　of　the　two　large　cartons　air…expressed　by　Yaeger。　He　sat　down　at　the　kitchen　table　and　spread　out　the　chart　of　Orion　Lake　he　had　requested。　The　depth　soundings　showed　the　lake　bed　sloping　gently　from　the　shore；　then　leveling　off　for　a　short　distance　at　a　depth　of　thirty　feet　before　dropping　off　steeply　in　the　middle　of　the　lake　to　over　four　hundred　feet。　Far　too　deep　for　a　diver　without　the　proper　equipment　and　a　surface　crew；　Pitt　figured。　No　man…made　obstructions　were　marked。　The　only　wreck　shown　was　an　old　fishing　boat　that　had　sunk　off　the　cannery。　The　lake's　average　water　temperature　was　forty…one　degrees　Fahrenheit；　far　too　cold　for　swimming　but　ideal　for　fishing　and　boating。
　
　Pitt　barbecued　an　elk　steak　for　an　early　dinner；　mixed　a　salad　and　ate　at　a　table　on　the　porch　overlooking　the　lake。　He　leisurely　sipped　an　Olympia　beer　before　setting　the　bottle　on　the　table　and　stepping　into　the　kitchen；　where　he　extended　the　tripod　legs　on　a　brass　telescope。　He　set　it　in　the　middle　of　the　kitchen　away　from　the　window　to　make　it　difficult　for　anyone　from　the　outside　to　observe　his　activity　in　the　shadows。　He　crouched　over　the　eyepiece　and　focused　on　Qin　Shang's　retreat。　The　high…powered　magnification　made　it　possible　for　Pitt　to　observe　two　players　on　the　golf　course　behind　the　house。　Duffers；　he　deduced。　They　took　four　putts　apiece　to　send　their　balls　into　the　cup。　His　circular　field　of　vision　strayed　to　the　guesthouses　nestled　under　a　grove　of　trees　growing　behind　the　main　house。　Except　for　a　maid　making　the　rounds；　they　looked　unoccupied。　There　was　no　neatly　manicured　lawn　in　the　open　spaces。　The　grounds　were　left　natural　with　meadow　grass　and　wildflowers。
　
　A　huge　porte　cochere　extended　from　the　building　over　the　driveway　so　VIP　guests　could　get　in　and　out　of　automobiles　without　getting　wet　in　bad　weather。　The　main　entry　was　guarded　by　two　great　bronze　reclining　lions　on　each　side　of　a　stairway　that　led　to　rosewood　doors　standing　the　height　of　three　men。　He　refocused　the　telescope　and　discerned　the　beautifully　carved　dragon　motif　on　the　panels。　The　expansive　golden…tiled；　pagoda…styled　roof　seemed　utterly　incongruous　with　the　walls　of　copper…tinted　solar　glass　that　wrapped　the　entire　lower　structure。　The　three…story　house　itself　was　set　in　a　spacious　clearing　a　stone's　throw　from　the　shoreline。
　
　He　lowered　the　telescope　a　fraction　and　studied　the　dock　that　extended　half　the　length　of　a　football　field　into　the　waters　of　the　lake。　Two　boats　were　tied　alongside。　Nothing　fancy　about　the　smaller　one。　The　stubby　twin　catamaran　hulls　held　a　large；　boxlike　cabin　with　no　portholes　or　windows。　A　wheel…house　was　perched　on　the　roof；　and　the　entire　vessel　was　painted　as　black　as　a　hearse；　not　a　color　often　seen　on　the　upperworks　of　a　boat。　The　second　could　have　qualified　as　a　ship。　She　was　a　looker；　an　elegant　motor　yacht　with　a　sky…lounge　on　a　hull　over　120　feet　in　length；　the　kind　that　stopped　people　hi　their　tracks。　Pitt　estimated　her　beam　at　nearly　thirty　feet。　Designed　for　luxurious　fort；　her　classic　lines　enhanced
　
　her　from　a　mere　yacht　to　a　floating　masterwork。　Probably　built　either　in　Singapore　or　Hong　Kong；　Pitt　guessed。　Even　with　a　shallow　draft；　it　would　take　a　good　pilot　to　navigate　her　through　the　river　running　from　the　lake　to　open　water。
　
　As　he　watched；　diesel　smoke　trailed　from　the　stack　of　the　work　boat。　In　a　few　moments　its　crew　cast　off　the　mooring　lines；　and　it　began　moving　across　the　lake　toward　the　river　outlet。　A　very　strange　craft；　Pitt　thought。　It　looked　like　a　wooden　shipping　crate　on　two　pontoons。　He　could　not　begin　to　imagine　what　its　builder　had　in　mind。
　
　On　land；　except　for　the　maid　and　two　golfers；　the　premises　looked　deserted。　There　was　no　hint　of　security　systems。　He　could　find　no　visible　sign　of　mounted　video　cameras；　but　he　knew　they　had　to　be　there。　No　guards　patrolling　the　grounds　either；　unless　they　had　learned　the　art　of　invisibility。　The　only　objects　that　seemed　out　of　place　with　the　landscape　were　several　windowless　structures　built　out　of　logs。　Similar　to　the　hostel…type　huts　used　by　hunters　and　hikers；　they　were　spaced　at　strategic　locations　around　the　lake。　He　counted　three　and　guessed　that　more　were　hidden　in　the　woods。　The　third　one　seemed　curiously　mislaid。　It　floated　at　the　end　of　the　dock　and　looked　like　a　small　boathouse。　As　with　the　strange　black　boat；　there　were　no　windows　or　doors。　He　gazed　at　it　for　nearly　a　full　minute；　trying　to　fathom　its　purpose　and　speculate　on　what　was　inside。
　
　A　slight　shift　in　the　telescope；　and　the　focal　point　of　his　interest　was　rewarded。　Only　a　small　piece　showed　from　behind　a　stand　of　spruce。　Not　much；　but　enough　to　lay　to　rest　his　curiosity　about　the　security　setup。　The　roof　of　a　neatly　hidden　recreation　vehicle　revealed　a　small　forest　of　antennae　and　reception　dishes。　In　a　short　clearing　beyond；　what　appeared　to　be　a　small　aircraft　hangar　sat　beside　a　narrow　runway　that　was　only　fifty　yards　in　length。　Definitely　not　the　sort　of　layout　that　would　facilitate　the　use　of　a　helicopter。　Ultralight　aircraft；　perhaps？　Pitt　conjectured。　Yes；　that　had　to　be　the　answer。
　
　〃A　state…of…the…art　setup；〃　he　muttered　softly　to　himself。
　And　a　state…of…the…art　setup　it　was；　too。　He　recognized　the　RV　as　a　mobile　mand　post　of　the　type　that　presidential　Secret　Service　agents　often　operated　from　when　the　President　traveled　away；　from　Washington。　Pitt　began　to　understand　the　purpose　of　the　log　huts。　The　next　step　was　to　provoke　a　response。
　
　It　seemed　silly　to　go　to　so　much　effort　out　of　bored　inquisi…tiveness。　He　had　yet　to　receive　Yaeger's　report。　For　all　he　knew；　Shang　was　a　humanitarian；　a　philanthropist　and　a　spiritual　inspiration；　someone　Pitt　could　respect。　Pitt　wasn't　an　investigator；　he　was　a　marine　engineer。　Most　of　his　work　took　place　beneath　the　sea。　Why　he　even　bothered　was　a　mystery。　But　a　tiny　flag　went　up　in　his　mind。　Shang's　lifestyle　didn't　hold　water。　This　wouldn't　be　the　first　time　Pitt　had　meddled　in　something　that　didn't　concern　him。　The　most　pelling　reason　to　jump　in　was　that　Pitt's　intuition　was　almost　always　right　on　the　money。
　
　As　if　on　cue；　the　tone　on　his　Indium　phone　sounded。　Only　Hiram　Yaeger　knew　his　code。　He　stepped　a　safe　distance　outside　the　cabin　before　answering。　〃Hiram？〃
　
　〃Your　boy　Shang　is　a　real　piece　of　work；〃　Yaeger　said　without　preamble。
　〃What　have　you　got　on　him？〃　asked　Pitt。
　〃This　guy　lives　like　a　Roman　emperor。　Huge　entourage。　Palatial　homes　around　the　world；　yachts；　a　bevy　of　gorgeous　women；　jet　aircraft；　an　army　of　security　people。　If　ever　someone　qualified　for　Lifestyles　of　the　Rich　and　Famous；　it's　Shang。〃
　〃What　did　you　learn　about　his　operations？〃
　〃Damned　little。　Every　time　Max…〃
　〃Max？〃
　〃Max　is　my　buddy。　He　lives　inside　my　puter。〃
　〃If　you　say　so。　Go　on。〃
　〃Every　time　Max　tried　to　get　into　a　data　file　with　Shang's　name　on　it；　puters　from　just　about　every　intelligence　agency　in　town　blocked　our　inquiries　and　demanded　to　know　our　business。　It　seems　you're　not　the　only　one　interest