After the introductory pleasantries, they got down to business, beginning with a high-level review of Alvin’s upcoming mission. It was classified at the highest level, and no one aboard Atlantis knew what they were sending the deep-submergence vehicle down to take a sample of. However, Alvin’s team seemed prepared for a rather straightforward dive, sample collection, and return to the surface. Then Alvin’s operations officer, Brian Humm, provided a dose of bad news.

“A storm is moving in,” he said, “which means we’re not going to be able to launch tomorrow morning as planned. If we don’t go tonight, we’ll have to wait several days. Do you have a preference?”

“Sooner would be better,” Christine replied.

“We’ll plan for tonight, then, as soon as we’re ready.

“Also,” he said, “we have an issue with your stipulation that only the pilot be aboard for the mission.”

Langley had requested that only the DSV pilot, and not a full three-member team, descend with Alvin, to minimize the number of people involved who could piece together what was being sampled.

“We normally have two other personnel aboard to handle ancillary issues or if the pilot is incapacitated for some reason. At a minimum, one person must accompany the pilot during the dive.”

As Christine considered the request, Humm offered, “One option, Miss O’Connor, is you could do the dive.”

Humm went on to explain that the pilot was typically accompanied by scientists, not DSV copilots, and with a short walkthrough of emergency procedures, she would know enough to bring Alvin to the surface in an emergency. Also, as far as how dangerous the dive was, Humm assured her there was little to worry about. Alvin had made hundreds of dives, many to deeper depths than they’d be going down to tonight.

After contemplating the matter, Christine agreed. The dive would certainly be more interesting than waiting aboard Atlantis. Plus, how often would she get a chance to dive to almost ten thousand feet beneath the ocean’s surface?

“Great,” Humm said. “We’ll arrive at the specified location and be ready to dive shortly after sunset.”

43

PERSIAN GULF

A deep red glow was fading from the horizon as a helicopter beat a steady path east across the Persian Gulf. Beneath the Sikorsky MH-60R Seahawk, the vast expanse of black water was filled with intermittent white dots, marking the presence of merchant ships transiting the vital waterway. Inside the helicopter cabin, Jake Harrison sat beside Khalila Dufour as she stared out the side window, her eyes fixed on the gradually dwindling lights as the helicopter headed toward a dark patch in the ocean.

Three hours earlier, Khalila had emerged from her daylong meeting at the Al Hamra Tower. Harrison had decided to hang out nearby before returning to the safe house, grabbing lunch across the street, keeping an eye on the tower exit. It had taken all day, but Khalila finally exited the building, again walking beside Abdallah bin Laden, whom she bade farewell beside his awaiting limousine. Once again, she extended her hand and Abdallah shook it, although it seemed to Harrison that he let his touch linger, which was unusual given the general prohibition against men touching women in public in Kuwait and other Muslim countries. Men would shake hands with a woman only if she initiated the handshake; otherwise, the greeting between opposite sexes was hands-off.

Harrison wondered about Khalila’s personal life, about which he knew nothing. Was there something going on between Khalila and Abdallah? Abdallah seemed interested, and Khalila was a good match for the tall and influential bin Laden: beautiful, self-assured, and almost the same height as he was. It wouldn’t have been the first time a woman had used her looks to gain an advantage, and from a CIA officer perspective, there was no better group in the Middle East to weasel one’s way into than the bin Laden family.

The critical question, Harrison considered, was which side did Khalila truly work for? Did she sit in the meeting all day and simply absorb information, or had she provided data that Abdallah and his companions found interesting? Perhaps information on the potential survival of Abdallah’s father?

Harrison finally understood the issues the DDO must be dealing with regarding Khalila. Whose side was she truly on? Without knowing for sure, he couldn’t afford to cut her loose. She had excellent contacts in the Middle East, plus, with direct access to the bin Laden family, she was an incredibly potent asset.

A change to the beat of the helicopter’s rotors and the aircraft’s sudden descent announced their arrival at the transfer point. Harrison peered through the window, as did Khalila, searching the ocean for the silhouette of a submarine against the dark water, eventually spotting the hazy outline on the surface.