Page 131 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest

Fierro frowned furiously. “With me?”

Stokes marched over to the comms station. “I’ll take it.”

“What about maintaining radio silence?” Bose asked.

“The Chinese are bouncing a very narrow low-frequency beam off the troposphere,” the comms tech said. “We’ll respond in kind. No one will find us this way.”

“Patch the call over the speakers,” Stokes ordered.

“Aye, sir.” He turned back to his monitor and spoke into his headset microphone. “Fuzhou, I’m putting you through to Captain Stokes.” He punched a button.

Stokes heard the familiar click of an open line.

“This is Captain Stokes. Who am I speaking with?”

“My name doesn’t matter, Captain. I need to speak with Amador Fierro. I imagine he’s on your vessel—even standing next to you.”

Fierro recognized Peng De’s voice. His face flushed with heat even as his blood ran cold.

Stokes pointed a finger at the comms tech to mute the call. As soon as it was muted, he turned to Fierro.

“I can see by the look on your face you know this man.”

Fierro nodded. “He’s Chinese intelligence.”

“What in the blazes does he want?”

Fierro gathered himself. “Let’s find out.” He nodded at the tech to resume the call. The tech glanced at Stokes, who nodded his permission. The call resumed.

“It’s good to hear your voice, Mr.Peng. I confess, I’m somewhat surprised by your call. May I ask how you found us?”

“Why ask me? Ask Dr.Bose. I’m sure she’s there with you.”

Fierro wheeled on Bose, startling her.

“You said the breach was inconsequential.”

“It was,” she said, gathering her wits. “He only stole a few lines of code before we shut him down.”

“Not true, Dr.Bose,” Peng said. “The hacker-thief was named Eidolon, now dead. He provided details about Project Q, your ship, and your location. He even knew your AGI program will be launching just two hours and twenty-seven minutes from now.”

The countdown clock now read exactly: 02:27:00.

Fierro, Stokes, and Bose were stunned.

“I should add that the Americans know this as well,” Peng said. “A ship known as theOregonwill be arriving at your location in less than two hours. One hour and forty-eight minutes, to be exact. You need to evacuate the area immediately to avoid capture.”

“That’s not possible,” Bose blurted out. “The AGI will be disabled and perhaps even destroyed if the engines are powered up.”

“Where are you?” Fierro asked.

“TheFuzhouis approximately two hours away, due west.”

Stokes signaled to comms to mute the call, then swept his pointedfinger around the CIC like a clock’s second hand, singling out each station in rapid succession.

“Where is this brigand Chinese? Anybody?” Stokes demanded, his tactical senses on high alert.

All heads shook no.