“I guess there will be a few less places to hide on the sea now that our illustrious leaders of the deep are checking things out from the balcony.”

Two thousand feet above the calmly rolling swells of the Pacific, the silver Icarus floated gracefully across the sky at thirty-five miles per hour. While the elder Pitt handled the blimp's flight controls, Giordino adjusted a row of dials at the base of a flat-panel color monitor. A WE SCAM long-distance camera mounted to the side of the gondola, a supplement to the LASH imaging system, fed into the monitor, providing a zoom image of objects located hundreds of yards away. Pitt glanced from the flight controls to the monitor, which displayed a close-up picture of the stern of a small boat where two bikini-clad women were stretched out sunbathing.

“I hope your girlfriend doesn't catch wind of your voyeuristic tendencies,” Pitt laughed.

“Just testing the resolution,” Giordino replied in a serious tone while prankishly zooming the image in and out on one of the women's behinds.

“Ansel Adams you're not. Let's see what that setup will read with a real target,” Pitt said, turning the airship west toward an outbound vessel a few miles away. Dropping down a few hundred feet, Pitt nosed the Icarus to starboard and increased the throttle, gradually gaining ground on the departing ship. While still nearly a half mile away, Giordino zoomed the camera lens onto the stern of the black-hulled freighter, easily reading the name: “Jasmine Star... Madras.” He raised the camera along the ship's deck, noting a stacked array of containers, before settling on the bridge mast, where the monitor revealed a flag of India snapping crisply in the breeze. “Works like a champ,” Al said proudly.

Pitt looked at the LASH screen on the laptop, which showed an empty swath of sea in advance of the Indian freighter. “Nothing coming up on the main shipping channel for the time being. Let's keep going south, where it looks like there's a little more activity,” he said, noting several images on the left edge of the screen.

Maneuvering the blimp south, they soon passed over the Narwhal and the containership she just searched, then they cruised over a portion of Catalina Island. Passing back over the water, Giordino pointed out the windshield toward a turquoise ship in the distance.

“There's the Deep Endeavor. Looks like she has gotten into the act as well,” he said, noting the red freighter idling nearby.

Pitt guided the blimp toward the NUMA ship, calling it up on the radio as they approached.

“Icarus to Deep Endeavor. How's the fishing down there?”

“Nary a nibble,” Burch's voice replied. “How are you gentlemen enjoying your sightseeing flight?”

“Delightful, except for Al's incessant crunching at the caviar table, which is interrupting my enjoyment of the in-flight movie. We'll see if we can't rustle you up some more business.”

“Roger, we'd be much obliged.”

Giordino adjusted the blimp's LASH system, examining it for targets.

“Looks like we've got an inbound vessel in the main shipping channel about twenty-two miles to the northwest and what looks like a couple of stationary targets eighteen miles to the west of us,” he said, pointing to some gray-and-white patches on the monitor that contrasted with the blue ocean background.

Pitt looked at the laptop, then glanced at his watch. “We ought to be able to catch the northwest ship on the fly. Let's go see what's parked out here first,” he replied, aiming the blimp to the west and toward the two large smudges on the screen that were oddly sitting still.

Firing A rocket off the Sea Launch platform is traditionally preceded by a seventy-two-hour launch countdown. During the three-day preparation, dozens of tests are performed to ensure that all support systems are operational and all mechanical and computer systems aboard the rocket are ready to withstand the violent rigors of launch. At T-15 hours before launch, the engineers and all but a handful of crewmen are evacuated from the platform as the final stages of the countdown progresses. The assembly and command ship is then moved to a safe operating area four miles up range of the platform.

At T-5 hours, the last of the crewmen are evacuated from the platform aboard a helicopter and the remaining countdown procedures are handled remotely from the support ship. With less than three hours to go, the hazardous operation of fueling the launch vehicle is performed automatically, the kerosene and oxygen combustibles remotely pumped into the rocket from the large storage tanks housed on the platform. Once fueled, the decision is then left to the launch engineers aboard the support ship to proceed with the launch and fire the rocket when ready.

Absent the luxury of time, Ling's team of launch engineers consolidated the Sea Launch firing procedures into a bare-minimum schedule. Redundant and nonessential tests were scrapped, built-in launch holds were eliminated, and the fueling time reduced on account of the shortened flight plan. By their accord, they could launch the Zenit in just eight hours from the time the Odyssey was ballasted and stabilized.

Tongju stood on the platform near the base of the launch tower and gazed at a large digital clock mounted on the roofline of the hangar. The red illuminated numbers read 03:32:17, with the digits clicking backward a second at a time. Three hours and thirty-two minutes until liftoff. Barring a major technical difficulty, there would be no halting the launch now. In Tongju's eyes, it would soon come down to the simple task of fueling the rocket and lighting it off.

But before the button could be pushed, the Koguryo had to obtain total control of the launch process. Ling and his engineers first established a radio link to the automated launch control system, which was tested and verified through the Koguryo's launch control center. Then there was the transfer of the Odyssey's own command system. A wireless marine positioning system allowed the launch platform to be remotely controlled after all personnel were evacuated for launch. like a radio-controlled toy, the platform could be raised, lowered, or moved by the touch of a keypad aboard the Koguryo. Once the controls had been passed to the support ship, Ling approached Tongju on the deck.

“My work here is complete. Full system control now lies on the Koguryo. My team and I must return to the support ship to resume launch countdown activities.”

Tongju glanced again at the countdown clock. "My compliments.

You are ahead of schedule. I will call for the Koguryo's tender and you may take your men off the platform at once."

“You will not be joining us now?” Ling asked.

“I must secure the prisoners first, then my assault team will follow along. It is my desire to be the last man off the platform before launch,” Tongju said. “That is, except for the men who will not be coming off at all,” he added with a sinister smile.

“There's not supposed to be an oil platform located here.”

Giordino's eyes shifted from the large square object on the water ahead of them to an oversized navigational chart he'd folded on his lap. “No man-made hazards are indicated in this region at all. I don't think the Sierra Club is going to take kindly to some stealth drilling this close to the coast.”

“They might be even more perturbed when you tell them the oil platform has a rocket aboard,” Pitt replied.

Giordino squinted out the airship's windshield toward the approaching platform. “I'll be. Give that man with the eagle eye a cookie.”

Pitt turned the blimp as they approached, making a wide loop around the platform and adjacent support ship, careful to avoid its airspace.

“Sea Launch?” Giordino asked.

“Must be. I didn't think they'd move it around with the rocket standing upright, though.”