The Mediterranean Caper by Clive Cussler Read Free Book Online Page B

coating the ship from stem to stern staff. He climbed the boarding ladder and was greeted on the deck by an old friend, Commander Rudi Gunn, the skipper and project director of the ship.
    â€œYou look healthy,” said Gunn unsmilingly, “except for your bloodshot eyes.” He reached for a cigarette. Before he lit it, he offered one to Pitt, who shook his head and held up one in his hand.
    â€œI hear you’ve got problems,” said Pitt.
    Gunn’s face turned grim. “You’re damn right I do,” he snapped. “I didn’t ask Admiral Sandecker to send you all the way from Washington just for fun and games.”
    Pitt’s eyebrows went up in surprise. This sudden harshness did not fit Gunn. Under normal circumstances the little commander was a warm and humorous person. “Take it easy, Rudi,” said Pitt softly. “Let’s get out of the sun, and you can brief me on what this mess is all about.”
    Gunn removed his horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed a wrinkled handkerchief across his forehead. “I’m sorry, Dirk, it’s just that I’ve never seen so many things go wrong at one time. It’s highly frustrating after all the planning that went into this project. I guess it’s beginning to make me irritable as hell. Even the crew has noticeably avoided me the last three days.”
    Pitt placed an arm on the shorter man’s shoulders and grinned. “I promise not to avoid you even if you are a nasty little bastard.”
    Gunn looked blank for a moment, and then a sense of relief seemed to flood his eyes, and he flung back his head and laughed. “Thank God you’re here.” He gripped Pitt’s arm tightly. “You may not solve any mysteries, but at least I’ll feel a hell of a lot better just having you around.” He turned and pointed toward the bow. “Come along, my cabin is up forward.”
    Pitt followed Gunn up a steep ladder to the next deck and into a small cabin that must have been designed by a closet-maker. The only comfort, and it was a large one, was a cool blast of air that emitted from an overhead ventilator.
    He stood in front of the opening for a moment and soaked in the cool breeze. Then he straddled a chair and leaned his arms across the top of the backrest, waiting for Gunn to give the briefing.
    Gunn closed the porthole and remained standing. “Before I begin, let me ask you what you know about our Aegean expedition.”
    â€œI only heard that the First Attempt was researching the Mediterranean for zoological purposes.”
    Gunn stared at him, shocked. “Didn’t the admiral supply you with any detailed data concerning this project before you left Washington?”
    Pitt lit another cigarette. “What makes you think that I came straight from the Capital?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Gunn said hesitantly. “I only assumed that you…”
    Pitt stopped him with a grin. “I haven’t been anywhere near the States in over four months.” He exhaled a puff of smoke toward the ventilator and watched the blue haze swirl into nothingness. “Sandecker’s message to you simply stated that he was sending me directly to Thasos. He obviously neglected to mention where I was coming from and when I would arrive. Therefore, you expected me to come soaring out of the blue sky four days ago.”
    â€œAgain, I’m sorry,” Gunn said, shrugging. “You’re right, of course. I figured two days at the most for that old tin duck of yours to fly from the Capital. When you finally flew into that fiasco at Brady Field yesterday you were already four days late by my schedule.”
    â€œIt couldn’t be helped. Giordino and I were ordered to airlift supplies into an ice probe station, camped on an ice floe north of Spitzbergen. Right after we landed, a blizzard hit and grounded us for over seventy-two hours.”
    Gunn laughed. “You certainly flew