Hanley asked, “How big were these ships?”
“Over three hundred feet, with a crew of four hundred.”
Max gave a low whistle, impressed with medieval Chinese naval architecture.
“Does he say the nature of this evil?”
“No. The whole purpose of the pit, though, was to give a clue as to the ship’s location. He wrote that the evil surrounding it should never be approached, but he was also a pragmatist. There were untold riches aboard her, treasure they had planned to barter with any natives they came across.
“Tsai left two markers, one honoring the gods of the underworld—the one in the pit—and another to honor the gods in heaven.”
“Something underground and something above,” Juan mused aloud. “What is the second marker?”
“Tsai only writes that it can be seen from the heavens. And that they left it two hundred days from the Treasure Pit.”
“Two hundred days?” Max groused. “What the hell is that?”
“I assume,” Eddie said evenly, ignoring Max’s sarcasm, “that it means two hundred days’ sailing south of Pine Island. Obviously, the Ronish brothers thought it was around the twenty-fifth parallel.”
“Hold on a second,” Juan said. “If they were looking for a marker left by a Chinese Admiral, what were they doing so far inland? Whatever the marker was, surely it would be near the coast.”
“I don’t know.”
“We need to work on those papers you found at the crash site,” Max suggested. “The answer could be in their log.”
“We need to learn more about this Admiral Tsai.” This came from Eric Stone, who had been sitting at the helm station but had walked around the op center so that he stood behind Eddie. “And what was aboard his ship. This could be a significant archaeological find.”
“Actually,” Max said, “we need to ask ourselves if this is worth pursuing further. What’s this to us, anyway?”
“I think the answer is pretty clear,” Stone replied. “This is something of interest to the Argentine government, a regime currently at odds with the United States. Whatever their agenda, it can’t be good.”
“I agree,” the Chairman said. “The Generalissimos have an interest in this thing, and until we know their angle we should keep at it. What about the drawing of that cove or inlet?”
“That is the outline of the area where their ship was sunk, and, before you ask, I’ve already got Eric here running a computer match of South America’s coastline, including all couple hundred islands that make up Tierra del Fuego. It’s going to take some time.”
“Okay. What’s the latest on Linda and her team?”
“They’re still in the snowcat. You’re not going to believe what they found. What was supposed to be a small Argentine research station turns out to be a full-blown oil field.”
“A what?”
“You heard me. They’re drilling for oil off the Antarctic Peninsula.”
The news rocked Cabrillo, and he blurted stupidly, “But that’s illegal.”
“Well, yeah. Apparently they don’t care.”
“Have you reported this to Overholt?”
“Not yet. Linda said she snapped some pictures. She wants to include them with her report.”
“This is getting weirder and weirder,” Max said. “They’re taking a hell of a risk pulling a stunt like that.”
“Not really,” Eric Stone countered. “They’re already an international pariah, so what’s a little more bad will?”
“Bad will, my butt. The U.S. is going to send an armada down there. It’ll be like the Falklands War all over again.”
“Are you sure?” Stone asked, one eyebrow arched.