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"And now I'm out of ideas, X."

"Come left, parallel to the seas?"

"Okay, you do it."

Claggett went into control. "Up 'scope!" He took a quick look, and checked the submarine's course. "Come right to new course zero-five-five!"

USS Maine surfaced for the last time into thirty-five foot seas and nearly total darkness. Her circular hull wallowed in the rolling waves, and she was slow to turn.

The countermeasures were a mistake. Though the Russian torpedo was pinging, it was mainly a wake-follower. Its seeker head tracked bubbles, and the string of countermeasures made for a perfect trail, which suddenly stopped. When Maine surfaced, the submarine left the bubble stream. Again, the factors involved were technical. The surface turbulence confused the wake-following software and the torpedo began its programmed circular search pattern, just under the surface. On its third circuit, it found an unusually hard echo amid the confusing shapes over its head. The torpedo turned to close, now activating its magnetic-influence fusing system. The Russian weapon was less sophisticated than the American Mark 50. It could not go higher than twenty meters of depth and so was not drawn up to the surface. The active magnetic field it generated was cast out like an invisible spiderweb, and when that net was disturbed by the presence of a metallic mass - The thousand-kilo warhead exploded fifty feet from Maines already crippled stern. The twenty-thousand-ton warship shook as though rammed.

An alarm sounded instantly: "Flooding flooding flooding in the engine room!"

Ricks lifted the phone. "How bad?"

"Get everybody off, sir!"

"Abandon ship! Break out the survival gear! Send out message: damaged and sinking, give our position!"

"Captain Rosselli! Flash traffic coming in." Ryan looked up. He'd had his drink, followed by something colder and carbonated. Whatever the message was, the naval officer could handle it.

"You Mr Ryan?" a man in a suit asked. Two more were behind him.

"Dr Ryan, yeah."

"Secret Service, sir, the President ordered us to come here and arrest you."

Jack laughed at that. "What for?"

The agent looked instantly uncomfortable. "He didn't say, sir."

"I'm not a cop, but my dad was. I don't think you can arrest me without a charge. The law, you know? The Constitution. 'Preserve, protect, and defend.' "

The agent was in an instant quandary. He had orders from someone he had to obey, but he was too professional to violate the law. "Sir, the President said "

"Well, tell you what. I'll just sit right here, and you can talk to the President on that phone and find out. I'm not going anywhere." Jack lit another cigarette and lifted another phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

"Jack! What's going on?"

"It's okay. It got a little tense, but we have it under control now, Cath. I'm afraid I'm going to be stuck here for a while, but it's okay, Cathy, honest."

"Sure?"

"You worry about that new baby, not about anything else. That's an order."

"I'm late, Jack. Just a day, but -"

"Good." Ryan leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and smiled blissfully. "You want it to be a girl, eh?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess I do, too. Honey, I'm still busy here, but, honest, you can relax. Have to run. Bye." He replaced the phone. "Glad I remembered to do that."

"Sir, the President wants to talk to you." The senior agent handed the phone towards Ryan.

What makes you think I want to talk to him? Jack nearly asked. But that would have been unprofessional. He took the phone. "Ryan here, sir."

"Tell me what you know," Fowler said curtly.

"Mr President, if you give me about fifteen minutes, I can do a better job. Dan Murray at FBI knows everything I do, and I have to make contact with two officers. Is that okay, sir?"

"Very well."

"Thank you, Mr President." Ryan handed the phone back and placed a call to the CIA Operations Center. This is Ryan. Did Clark make the pickup?"

"Sir, this is an unsecure line."

"I don't care - answer the question."

"Yes, sir, they're flying