“So what additional agents were on this bomb?” Gunn asked. Dirk shook his head slowly. “That, we don't know. The lab technicians were unable to detect any remaining trace elements from the other compartments. We know that the reason for using porcelain was to house biological agents, but the Japanese experimented with all kinds of organisms, so it could be anything from bubonic plague to yellow fever.”

“Or smallpox?” Gunn asked. “Or smallpox,” Dirk confirmed.

Jost's face glowed beet red. “This is a preposterous fantasy,” he grumbled. “The history lesson is interesting but irrelevant. A modern terrorist group salvaging weapons off a World War Two submarine? A nice story, but how are your biological viruses going to survive under the sea for sixty years, Mr. Pitt? We know the Japanese Red Army. It's a small, tight-knit organization with limited sophistication. Political assassination and planted explosives are within their means. Deep-sea salvage and microbiology are not.”

“I have to agree with Rob,” Webster added in a muted tone. “Although the cyanide canister is an interesting coincidence with the Yunaska attack, the fact is that cyanide is a compound readily obtainable from many sources. You've admitted that there is no traceable evidence supporting the smallpox source. And we don't know for sure if the missing bomb canister on the sub was lost somewhere else on the vessel or was even loaded on board in the first place.”

Dirk reached over to the duffel bag and unzipped a side pocket, pulling out the still-blinking digital timer he'd found in the torpedo room. “Maybe you can at least find out where this came from,” he said, handing it to Webster.

“Could have been left behind by a sport diver,” Jost noted.

“A sport diver with a possessive disposition, apparently,” Dirk remarked drily. “I've been shot at twice now. I don't know who these characters are, but they take their game seriously.”

“I assure you, we have a full investigation under way,” Webster stated. “I'll have our lab in Quantico reanalyze the bomb casing and take a look at the timer. We will find the perpetrators who caused the death of the two Coast Guardsmen.” The words were firm, but the hollow tone in his voice revealed his lack of confidence in the outcome.

“We can offer a safe house for you, Mr. Pitt, until we have made an apprehension,” he added.

“No, thanks. If these people are who you say they are, then I should have nothing more to fear. After all, how many JRA operatives can they have in the country?” Dirk asked with a penetrating glare.

Webster and Jost looked at each other in unknowing silence. Gunn jumped in diplomatically.

“We appreciate your investigation into the loss of our helicopter,” he said, gently ushering the men to the door. “Please keep us advised as to any new developments, and, of course, NUMA will be happy to assist in any way we can.”

After they left the room, Dirk sat silently shaking his head.

“They've hushed up the Yunaska incident because they are getting so much flak for the unsolved assassinations in Japan,” Gunn said.

Homeland Security and the FBI are stymied and are relying on the Japanese authorities to make a break in the case. The last thing they want to admit, on top of that, is that the smallpox case was part of the attack, with just one victim and no terrorists."

“The evidence may be weak, but there is no reason to foolishly ignore an attack on our own soil,” Dirk stated.

“I'll speak to the admiral about it. The director of the FBI is an old tennis partner of his. He'll make sure it doesn't get brushed under the carpet.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by the lean face of Yaeger poking in.

“Sorry to intrude. Dirk, I have something for you.”

“Come in, Hiram. Rudi and I were just plotting the overthrow of the government. Was Max able to access the National Archives' secure records?”

“Does McDonald's have golden arches?” Yaeger replied, feigning insult.

Gunn gave Dirk a sideways glance, then shook his head in amusement. “If you guys get caught on a security breach, do me a favor and blame it on your father, will you?”

Dirk laughed. “Sure, Rudi. What did you find, Hiram?”

“The Naval Ministry records were somewhat limited. It's a shame that most all of the original documents were returned to the Japanese government in the fifties. The available records in the archives are, of course, written in Japanese, using a variety of dialects, so I had to set up several translation programs before I could initiate a scan.”

Yaeger paused and poured himself a cup of coffee from a large silver urn before continuing.

“As it is, you are in luck. I found a log of operations orders from the Japanese Sixth Fleet covering the last six months of 1944.”

“Including the I-403?” Dirk asked.

“Yep. Its mission of December 1944 evidently had high importance. It was approved by the fleet admiral himself. The actual sailing order was short and sweet.”

Yaeger pulled a sheet of paper from a thin folder and read aloud. “”Proceed northerly route to Pacific West Coast, refueling Amchitka (Moriokd). Initiate aerial strike with Maka^e ordnance earliest practicable. Primary Target: Tacoma, Seattle, Vancouver, Victoria. Alternate Target: Alameda, Oakland, San Francisco. With the emperor's blessing.“ ”

“That's a pretty ambitious target list for just two planes,” Gunn remarked.

“Think about it, though,” Dirk said. “The cities are concentrated enough all to be reached on a single flyover. Two or three biological bombs per city would wreak deadly havoc, if that's in fact what they were. Hiram, you said the ordnance was referred to as Maka^e. St. Julien Perlmutter found mention of the same term. Any information on what they were?”

“I was curious about that myself,” Yaeger replied. “I found that the 'iferal translation was 'evil wind' or 'black wind.” But there was no additional information in the official naval records."

Yaeger paused and sat back in his chair with a knowing, look.

“Well, did you find anything else?” Gunn finally goaded.

“It was Max, actually,” Yaeger replied proudly. “After exhausting the National Archives data, I had her search the public databases in the U.S. and Japan. In a Japanese genealogy database, she hit pay dirt, locating an obscure diary from a sailor who served aboard the I-403 during the war.” Holding a printout up to his face, he continued. “Mechanic First Class Hiroshi Sakora, Imperial Navy Air Corps, was a lucky devil. He came down with appendicitis while the sub was crossing the Pacific on its fateful voyage in December of 1944 and was transferred off the boat and onto the refueling ship in the Aleutian Islands. All his shipmates, of course, went on to perish when the sub was sunk off Washington State.”

“And he made mention of the I-403's mission?” Dirk asked.

“In vivid detail. It turns out that the young Mr. Sakora, in addition to his aircraft mechanic duties, was also in charge of aerial ordnance for the submarine's airplanes. He wrote that before they left port on their final voyage, an Army officer named Tanaka brought aboard an unusual type of aerial bomb that was to be used on the mission. The shipboard morale became very high, he added, when the crew learned they were to make an attack on the United States. But there was much mystery and speculation about the unknown weapon.”

“Did he identify what it was?” Gunn pressed.

“He tried to, but working with the fellow Tanaka was difficult. ”A gloomy, overbearing, obstinate taskmaster," he wrote about the officer.

Typical Army-Navy rivalry, I suppose, plus the submariners didn't like his being a last-minute addition to the sailing crew. At any rate, he pressed Tanaka for information, but to no avail. Finally, just before he fell ill and was transferred off the sub in the Aleutians, he wriggled the information out of one of the pilots. The pilot, so the story goes,