16 Valhalla Rising by Clive Cussler

16 Valhalla Rising by Clive Cussler

Author:Clive Cussler [Cussler, Clive]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


28

Pitt immediately alerted Admiral Sandecker, who dispatched a NUMA jet to pick him up at the Gene Taylor Airfield. Kelly drove even faster on the return trip down the river, arriving only minutes before the jet landed. She insisted that she could be useful, and no argument from Pitt held enough water to keep her from boarding the plane and accompanying him to Washington.

Giordino and Rudi Gunn were waiting on the tarmac when the plane taxied to a stop at Langley Field. They’d no sooner boarded the plane than it was airborne again, flying south to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and the corporate headquarters of the Blue Seas Cruise Lines. Gunn had arranged for a Lincoln Town Car as transportation, and within minutes of the jet landing, they were heading toward the harbor with Giordino at the wheel.

The Blue Seas building towered 900 feet above the waterfront on an island where the Blue Seas cruise ships docked. The exterior design was shaped like a gargantuan sailboat. The outside elevators were housed in one huge shaft that rose into the sky like a mast. The rest of the mostly glass-enclosed building was arched like a giant sail. The glass walls were blue, with a center wall of stretched white fabric that could withstand winds up to 150 miles an hour. The lower forty floors of the building housed the offices of the cruise line, while the upper fifty floors housed a hotel for the passengers to stay in before boarding the fleet of cruise ships.

Giordino turned into an underground tunnel that ran under the water to the island holding the huge building. A valet took the car, and they entered one of the outer elevators and rode three levels up to the main lobby, which was situated under an atrium that rose 700 feet in the middle of the office and hotel floors. The secretary to the CEO of the Blue Seas Cruise Lines was waiting for them and escorted them up a private executive elevator to the head office on the fortieth floor. Warren Lasch, the president of the cruise line, came from behind his desk to greet them.

Rudi Gunn made the introductions, and everyone took a chair.

“Now, then.” Lasch, a tall man with graying hair and slightly on the heavy side, looked as if he might have played football in college. He peered through dark, coffee brown eyes that moved from Pitt to Kelly to Giordino to Gunn like a panoramic camera recording a scenic vista and then back again. “What is this all about? Admiral Sandecker seemed quite adamant over the phone that we postpone the sailing of the Golden Marlin.”

“There is fear the ship may suffer the same fate as the Emerald Dolphin,” Gunn replied.

“I have yet to see a report that says it was anything but an accident,” Lasch said, his face expressing doubt. “I find it impossible that another disaster could happen.”

Pitt leaned forward slightly in his chair. “I can assure you, sir, that NUMA has



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