Dirk, I have some terrifying news." The fear in Sarah's voice was palpable, even over the telephone.

“What's wrong?”

“It's Irv. He's sick in the hospital in Anchorage. The doctors say that he has contracted smallpox. I just can't believe it.”

“Smallpox? I thought that had all but been eliminated.”

“Practically speaking, it has. If the doctors are correct with the diagnosis, it will be the first documented case in the United States in thirty years. The medical authorities are keeping it quiet, though the CDC is rushing vaccination supplies to Alaska in case an outbreak develops.”

“How's he holding up?”

“He's at a critical juncture,” Sarah replied, nearly choking on the words. “The next two or three days will be crucial to his outcome. He's in quarantine at Alaska Regional Hospital in Anchorage, along with three other people he has had close contact with.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Dirk said with genuine concern in his voice. “Irv's a tough old bird, I'm sure he'll sail through without a hitch. Have you any idea how on earth he contracted smallpox?”

“Well,” Sarah replied, swallowing hard, “the incubation period is approximately fourteen days. That would mean he became infected about the time we were on Yunaska ... and aboard the Deep Endeavor!”

“He may have contracted it on our ship?” Dirk asked incredulously.

“I don't know. It was either on the ship or on the island, but it matters little now. The smallpox virus is remarkably contagious. We need to work fast to check everyone who was onboard the Deep Endeavor and isolate those infected. Time is critical.”

“What about you and Sandy? You were working and living together with Irv. Are you all right?”

“As CDC employees, Sandy and I were both vaccinated two years ago after concerns were first raised about smallpox as a potential bioterrorist threat. Irv was on loan to us from the state of Alaska's Department of Epidemiology and had not yet received his vaccination.”

“Can the crew of the Deep Endeavor still be vaccinated?”

“Unfortunately, it would do no good. The vaccine can be effective within a couple of days of exposure but becomes useless thereafter. It's a terrible disease, as once you've contracted it there is nothing that can be done to combat it until it has run its course.”

“I'll contact Captain Burch and we'll check on all the crew members as soon as possible.”

“I will be back from Spokane this evening. If you can assemble the crew, I can help the ship's doctor check each man for symptoms in the morning.”

“Consider it done. Sarah, I could use another favor from you as well. Okay if I pick you up in the morning?”

“Sure, that would be fine. And, Dirk ... I pray that you are not infected.”

“Don't you worry,” he replied confidently. “There's way too much rum in my blood to keep any bugs alive.”

Dirk immediately called Captain Burch, and, with Leo Del-| gado's help, quickly contacted each crew member who had sailed on the Deep Endeavor. To their relief, none of the men reported signs of illness, and all appeared at the NUMA field office the next morning As promised, Dirk picked up Sarah at her apartment early in the: morning, electing to drive the big '58 Chrysler.

“My word, this is an enormous car,” Sarah declared as she climbed into the finned behemoth.

“It's the original definition of heavy metal,” Dirk grinned as he stoked the car out of the parking lot and drove toward the NUMA building.

Many of the Deep Endeavor's crew greeted Sarah warmly when she arrived before the assembled group, and she noted to herself how the entire crew behaved more like close family members than coworkers.

“It is great to see my NUMA friends again,” she said, addressing the crew. “As you may know, my associate Irv Fowler, who was on the ship with us, has been diagnosed with smallpox. The smallpox virus is highly contagious and it is critical that those infected be quickly isolated. I will need to know if any of you have suffered from the following symptoms since Irv, Sandy, and I left the Deep Endeavor, fever, headache, backache, severe abdominal pain, malaise, delirium, or rashes on the face, arms, or legs.”

One by one, she examined the apprehensive crew, taking temperatures and grilling each man or woman on signs of the deadly disease. Even Dirk and Captain Burch were subject to her checkup, after which Sarah gave a noticeable sigh of relief.

“Captain, just three of your crewmen are showing minor flu like signs of illness, which may or may not be preliminary symptoms of the virus. I request that these men remain isolated until we can complete their blood tests. Your remaining crew should avoid large public venues for at least a few more days. I would like to do a follow-up check at the end of the week, but it appears promising there has been nO outbreak among the ship's crew.”

“That is good news,” Burch replied with audible relief. “Seems odd to me that the virus did not spread easily through a confined ship.”

“Patients are most infectious after the onset of rash, which typically occurs twelve to fourteen days after exposure. Irv was well off the boat and working in Anchorage when he reached that stage, so it's possible that the virus had not spread while we were aboard. Captain, I would ensure that his stateroom on the Deep Endeavor is thoroughly sanitized, along with all linen and dining ware aboard the ship, just to be safe.”

“I'll see that it's taken care of right away.”

“It would appear that the source of the smallpox outbreak was on Yunaska,” Dirk speculated.

“I think so,” Sarah replied. “It's a wonder that you and Jack were not exposed when you picked us up off the island.”

“Our protective gear may have saved us.”

“Thank God,” she said gratefully.

“It would seem that our mysterious friends on the fishing boat may have been dabbling with something even nastier than cyanide. Which reminds me ... the favor I asked?”

Dirk led Sarah to the Chrysler, where he popped open the large trunk lid. Inside was the porcelain bomb canister from the I-403, carefully wrapped inside a milk crate. Sarah inspected the item with a quizzical look on her face.

“Okay, I give up. What is it?”

Dirk briefly explained his trip to Fort Stevens and the dive on the Japanese submarine.

Can you have your lab identify any remaining residue? I have a hunch there may be something to it."

Sarah stood silent a moment before speaking.

“Yes, we can have it examined,” she said in a serious tone. “But it will cost you lunch,” she said, finally breaking into a wry smile.

Dirk drove Sarah to the state Public Health Lab on Fir-crest Campus, where they carefully transferred the fragmented bomb casing into a small working lab room. After some chiding for bringing an explosive into the building, a jovial, slightly balding research scientist named Hal agreed to examine the fragment after the conclusion of a staff meeting.

“Looks like a long lunch is in order. Where shall we go?” Sarah asked.

“I know a quiet spot with a nice water view,” Dirk replied with a mischievous grin.

“Then take me away in the green machine,” she laughed, climbing into the turquoise Chrysler.

Dirk drove the car out of the laboratory's narrow parking lot, easing past a familiar-looking black Cadillac CTS that sat with its engine running. Exiting the campus grounds, he drove south past Seattle's st ling downtown, then turned west, following a road sign to Fauntleroy. Reaching the water's edge of Puget Sound, Dirk turned to the Fauntleroy Ferry Terminal, then steered the Chrysler up a loading ramp and onto the car deck of a waiting automobile ferry. As he parked the Chrysler amid several rows of tightly packed commuter cars Sarah reached over and squeezed his hand tightly.

“A ferryboat snack bar Donuts and coffee?” she inquired.