I feel like I'm looking at some kind of moon base, Jimenez said.

Laretta nodded. For all intents and purposes, it is. We have created a working environment in the most inhospitable place on the planet.

Tell me about the defenses, Espinoza invited.

I've got an eight-man security force. Well, seven men. One was killed in a Ski-Doo accident. They're all ex-police. They patrol the camp perimeter, break up fights among the workers that sort of thing. Then there's the Admiral Guillermo Brown out in the bay. She's loaded with antiship and antiaircraft missiles as well as two twenty-millimeter cannons. We also have four fixed antiaircraft missile batteries here on shore. And now we have all of you. The captain of the Brown is in overall charge of at least his ship and our missiles. I'm not sure about . . .

We take orders directly from Buenos Aires. The captain knows this.

Sorry, Laretta said, I don't know much about military command. When I was a kid and other boys were playing soldier, I sat in my room and read histories of Roman engineering feats.

Espinoza wasn't listening. He was thinking about what a big fat target the cruiser was, just sitting out in the bay. If he were the opposing commander, the first thing he'd do after his Special Forces made contact was to hit the warship with a cruise missile from a submarine and then take out the shore-based batteries with radar-homing missiles launched from an aircraft. Not a carrier plane. Sending an aircraft carrier would telegraph their intentions. No, he'd stage the plane out of McMurdo, using aerial refueling. If need be, then, the attacking commandos could be augmented with troops flown in on C-130s like the one he himself had arrived aboard.

He needed to discuss this with his father and have it relayed to the Brown's captain. Once the shooting starts, the ship should be moved and the shore batteries' radars turned on only intermittently.

This was all contingent on the Western powers responding to the annexation militarily, which wasn't a foregone conclusion. And that, he believed, was the genius of what they had pulled off. With China backing them, there was a strong chance that no one would send a force south to dislodge them and that his country had gained one of the biggest oil reserves in the world as easily as taking candy from a baby. The double threat of the Kilo-class submarine, and the ecological devastation if the base was attacked strictly by bombs and missiles and its oil spilled, was a strong deterrent to ensure they went unmolested.

Espinoza was torn. On the one hand, he wanted them to come. He wanted to test himself and his men against the very best in the world. On the other, he wanted to see his country's bold strategy so intimidate the West that they didn't dare retaliate. As director Laretta prattled on about the facility, he realized he had no right to be torn. He was a warrior, and as such he wanted the Americans to send their finest troops. He did not want merely to repulse them. He wanted to humiliate them. He wanted to turn the ice red with their blood.

Tell me, Luis, he interrupted, just to stop the director from speaking on and on about the facility, have our guests arrived?

Do you mean the foreign scientists from the other bases? Yes, they are being guarded by my small security force in a maintenance shed.

No. I mean our friends from China.

Oh, them. Yes. They came in yesterday, with their equipment. I assigned them a workboat. They've been getting it ready. Is there really an old Chinese ship sunk someplace in these waters?

If there is, Espinoza replied, then we can forget any chance of a reprisal. Our claims to the peninsula would be legitimized by history. I would like to meet them.

Certainly.

He steered the snowcat off the escarpment overlooking the base and down a track worn into the ice. When they were in the facility itself, Espinoza was amazed at the level of activity. Men in arctic gear were working on oddly shaped buildings and countless personal snowmobiles zipped about, many towing sleds laden with what he assumed was oil-drilling gear. Where the natural snow had blown away in spots, he could see the composite mats made to look like ice, fitted together like the artificial runways he'd seen erected in the jungle. It could easily take the weight of their big vehicle.

There were several workboats tied up on a quay easily large enough to accommodate the Admiral Brown. They were all about forty feet long, steel-hulled, with large open spaces on their sterns and blocky pilothouses hunched over their bows. They were painted white, though much of their cargo areas had been so scraped up by material they transported out to the disguised rigs that bare wood shone through. Service boats like these were ubiquitous at offshore drilling sites all over the world.

Laretta parked alongside one of the crafts. Men bundled against the cold were working on a torpedo-shaped device sitting in a cradle under an A-frame crane mounted to the stern. None looked up from his task as the three men approached. One of them finally glanced at them when their weight made the boat bounce as they stepped aboard. He detached himself from the group and came over.

Se+|or Laretta, to what do we owe the pleasure? The man was covered head to foot, and his voice was muffled by scarves wrapped around his face. He spoke accented English.

Fong, this is Major Espinoza. He's the commander of our augmented security force. Major, this is Lee Fong. He heads the technicians sent out to find the Silent Sea.

The two men shook hands so heavily gloved it was like grabbing a balled-up towel. Is that a sonar unit? Espinoza asked.

Side-scan, Fong replied. We'll tow it behind this boat, and it profiles a hundred-meter swath of the ocean floor.

You have a rough idea where the wreck is located, yes?

From what I understand, we have you to thank for it.

Espinoza wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Chinese knew of his exploits, but then he realized his father had been bragging about him to their newest allies and he felt pride replace his trepidation. We got lucky, he said.

Let's hope we stay lucky. Wrecks are a funny thing. I've had GPS coordinates, loran numbers, and eyewitnesses, and I've still failed to find one. Other times, I've found them on the first pass with no information other than the ship had sunk in the general area.

Will the cold affect your gear?

That's the other factor. I've never searched in waters like this. We won't know how well the sonar will work until we get it in the water and test it here in the bay. We're hoping for today, but the light's going, so it will probably have to be tomorrow.

From what I gather of the situation, we have more than a little time, Espinoza said. The Americans are still reeling from our announcement, and they're too afraid of your country's reprisal if they launch a counterstrike.

Fortune favors the bold, Fong said.

That's attributed to Virgil, Luis Laretta told them. It's a Latin expression, Audentes fortuna juvat. There's another, by Julius Caesar, that's also apt Jacta alea est. He said it on his march to Rome when he crossed the Rubicon River.

Raul Jimenez surprisingly supplied the translation: The die is cast.

The Silent Sea

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

WITH NO LANDMASS TO BREAK ITS CYCLE, WINDS CIRCLED the earth at the lower latitudes in endless loops that built and built. Below the fortieth parallel, they were called the Roaring Forties. Then came the Furious Fifties and the Screaming Sixties. A constant wind of eighty miles per hour wasn't unusual, and gusts of a hundred were an everyday event. The effect this had on the sea was ferocious. Waves built to forty and fifty feet, huge rolling masses of water that tossed aside everything in their path. Even the great icebergs that calved off the mainland glaciers were no match for the ocean when the winds came up. Only the superbergs, as large as cities and sometimes small states, were immune.