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“Thank you, Mr. Vice President,” she said. “But one look at Dirk and I’m quite sure I’ll need a club to chase away all the admiring women.”

Sandecker’s eyes twinkled. “Chase a few of them my way.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek and then turned to let himself out. “See you at the party.”

As Sandecker left, Loren slid her arm around Dirk and then paused. She could instinctively sense the tension. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a difficult decision to make,” he said.

“You’ve never been one to have trouble deciding anything.” “This choice is more complicated than most,” he said. “Hope you’re not too hungry. We’re going to have to make a detour on our way to the event.”

Kurt Austin was busy packing. He filled a duffel bag with clothes and anything he thought might come in handy. A stack of cash and various credit cards were ready, along with his passport and other forms of ID.

He’d written two notes. One for Anna, which read as a combination apology and thank-you letter. The second was for Dirk Pitt. It contained his resignation from NUMA. He hadn’t expected to be handing it over in person.

“Would Loren like to come in?” Kurt asked as he met Pitt at the door.

“She’d rather we talk alone,” Pitt said. “Besides, she likes nothing better than to rearrange the presets on my car radio buttons. It’s one of her secret joys.”

Kurt nodded and led Dirk to his office.

“Going somewhere?”

Kurt didn’t try to hide it. “Iran.”

“Did they open a Club Med there I haven’t heard about?”

Kurt shook his head. “I have reason to believe Sienna’s alive and being held in Iran. I know someone in Turkey who can get me over the border. I’ll figure out the rest from there.”

Pitt held steady. “Even for you that has to sound like the longest of long shots.”

“It’s a start,” Kurt said. He opened a drawer. Inside lay his NUMA ID badge and key card. “I’m sorry about what happened today. I honestly didn’t mean to fly off the handle. But I’m not myself right now.”

Kurt hesitated for a second and then took the badge and card and slid them across the desk. “I know you stood up for me. It means a lot. I don’t want to let you down again or do anything else to put NUMA in a bad light, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

Pitt took the badge and studied it thoughtfully for a moment. “I didn’t come here to talk you out of it, actually.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Wondered if you were seeing pink elephants.”

Kurt felt pensive and full of self-doubt. He felt like a kid running away from home, leaving a family he’d been part of for ten years. Duty to NUMA had always come first, but that was half the reason he’d lost Sienna in the first place. If she was alive and trapped somewhere, he couldn’t put anything before that right now.

“So are you?” Pitt asked.

“I’m not sure,” Kurt said. “I’ve never been less sure of anything in my life. But I can’t wait around here hoping to get well. I have memories that make no sense. I have feelings that seem to be at odds with what I know to be facts. I have questions and I need to go find the answers. Until I do, I’m not going to be any good to anyone.”

“Have you considered diving the wreck?”

Kurt nodded. “First thought that came to mind, but the South African Coast Guard scanned it with sonar. The yacht broke up on the way to the bottom. She’s sitting in three, maybe four major pieces. Chances are anyone inside would have been swept free. So that wouldn’t help.”

Pitt nodded, giving Kurt the impression he knew this already. Kurt sensed Pitt studying him, evaluating. He’d had enough of that over the last three months. “You think I’m crazy?”

“I think that if someone is aware of the possibility he might be crazy,” Pitt began, “then chances are he’s not. And I have reason to believe there’s a possibility you might be onto something.”

Kurt didn’t move a muscle as Pitt relayed the information Sandecker had given him. He listened intently, hanging on every word. It didn’t prove Sienna was alive, or even make it sound likely, but if the CIA’s analysts thought the possibility existed, it made that part of Kurt’s quest seem more rational.

“Change your flight,” Pitt suggested. “Start in Dubai.”

“Why there?”


Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller