Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

by Cussler, Clive

  Black Wind

  By: Clive Cussler & Dirk Cussler

  Clive Cussler's dazzling new Dirk Pitt adventure

  "Clive the Mighty!" hailed Kirkus Reviews about Cussler's last Dirk

  Pitt novel, Trojan Odyssey. "Hurricane Clive at his most tumultuous."

  Nobody has been able to match Cussler yet for the intricate plotting

  and sheer audacity of his work, and Black Wind sets the bar even

  higher.

  In the waning days of World War II, unbeknownst to all but a handful of

  people, the Japanese tried a last, desperate measure. Two submarines

  were sent to the West Coast of the United States, their cargo a

  revolutionary new strain of biological virus, their mission to unleash

  hell.

  Neither sub made it to the designated target. But that does not mean

  they were lost.

  Someone knows about the subs and what they carried, knows too where

  they might be, and has an extraordinary plan in mind for the prize

  inside-a plan that could reshape America, and the world, as we know it.

  All that stands in the way are three people: a marine biologist named

  Summer, a marine engineer named Dirk ... and their father, Dirk Pitt,

  the new head of NUMA.

  Pitt has faced devastating enemies before, has even teamed up with his

  children to track them down. But never has he encountered such pure

  evil-until now.

  Filled with breathtaking suspense and extraordinary imagination, Black

  Wind is yet further proof that when it comes to adventure writing,

  nobody beats Clive Cussler.

  Clive Cussler is the author or coauthor of twenty-seven other books,

  including the Dirk Pitt'* adventure Trojan Odyssey, the Kurt Austin

  novel Lost City, and the new Oregon series novels Golden Buddha and

  Sacred Stone. He is also the author of the nonfiction Sea Hunters and

  Sea Hunters II; these describe the true adventures of the real NUMA,

  which, led by Cussler, searches for lost ships of historic

  significance. With his crew of volunteers, Cussler has discovered more

  than sixty ships, including the long-lost Confederate submarine Hunley.

  He lives in Arizona.

  Dirk Cussler, an MBA from Berkeley, worked for many years in the

  financial arena, and now devotes himself full-time to writing. For the

  last several years, he has been an active participant and partner in

  his father's NUMA expeditions and served as president of the NUMA

  advisory board of trustees. He lives in Arizona.

  Jacket design 2004 Laurence Ratzkin Jacket illustration a. 2004 Craig

  White

  Photograph of the authors Paul Peregrine/ Peregrine Studios

  Visit our website at: www. penguin. com

  Visit the NUMA website at: www.numa.net a member of Penguin Group (USA)

  G. P. PUTNAM

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc

  DIRK PITT ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

  Trojan Odyssey

  Valhalla Rising

  Atlantis Found

  Flood Tide

  Shock Wave

  Inca Gold

  Sahara

  Dragon

  Treasure

  Cyclops

  Deep Six

  Pacific Vortex

  Night Probe

  Vixen 03

  Raise the Titanic

  Iceberg

  The Mediterranean Caper

  KURT AUSTIN ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER WITH PAUL KEMPRECOS

  Lost City

  White Death

  Fire Ice

  Blue Gold Serpent

  OREGON FILES ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER WITH CRAIG DIRGO

  Sacred Stone

  Golden Buddha

  NONFICTION BY CLIVE CUSSLER AND CRAIG DIR GO

  The Sea Hunters II

  Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed

  The Sea Hunters

  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK.

  Clive Cussler and DIRK CUSSLER

  G. p. Putnam's sons

  Publishers Since 1838

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc." 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014,

  USA Penguin Group (Canada), 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  M4V 3B2 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London

  we2R

  Offices:

  80 Strand, London we2R ORL, England

  Copyright 2004 by Sandecker, RLLLP

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned,

  or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted

  materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only

  authorized editions.

  Published simultaneously in Canada

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Cussler, Clive. Black wind / Clive Cussler and Dirk Cussler.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 0-399-15259-8

  1. Pitt, Dirk (Fictitious character)-Fiction. I. Cussler, Dirk. II.

  Title.

  PS3553.U75B56 2004 2004053536

  813'.54-dc22

  Printed in the United States of America 13579 10 8642

  This book is printed on acid-free paper. @ Book design by Lovedog

  Studio

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

  either are the product of the author's imagination or are used

  fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  businesses, companies,

  events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  In memory of my mother, Barbara, whose love,

  compassion, kindness, and encouragement are deeply missed by all who

  knew her.

  DEC.

  Acknowledgments

  With appreciation and gratitude to Scott Danneker, Mikejntzpatrick,

  Mike Hance, and George Spyrou of Airship Management Services, for

  sharing the wondrous world of airship flight.

  Thanks also to Sheldon Harris, whose book Factories of Death has helped

  open the door to the horrors of biological and chemical warfare

  practiced during World War II and its thousands of forgotten victims.

  PROLOGUE

  Japanese Imperial submarine I-403 and Seiran float plane

  December 12, 1944 Kure Naval Base, Japan

  Lieutenant Commander Takeo Ogawa glanced at his wristwatch and shook

  his head in irritation.

  "Half past midnight already," he muttered anxiously. "Three hours late

  and still we wait."

  A young ensign staring through the glazed eyes of a sleep-deprived

  insomniac nodded slightly at his superior's grieving but said nothing.

  Waiting atop the conning tower of the Japanese Imperial Navy submarine

  i-403, the two men gazed across the naval yard searching for signs of a

  pending arrival. Beyond the expansive naval base, a haphazard

  twinkling of nighttime lights glistened about the scenic Japanese city

  of Kure. A light drizzle fell, lending an eerie tranquility to the

  late hour, which was broken by the distant sounds of hammers, cranes,

  and welding torches. Repairs to enemy-damaged ships and new vessel

  construction persisted around t
he clock in other parts of the shipyard,

  in a futile rush to aid the increasingly bleak war effort.

  The distant whine of a diesel truck soon echoed across the water.

  the sound rising in intensity as the vehicle approached the submarine

  docks. Rounding the corner of a brick warehouse, a slate-colored Isuzu

  cargo truck rumbled into view and turned along the wharf. The driver

  inched his way cautiously toward the submarine's pen as he struggled to

  make out the edges of the darkened pier, barely visible under the

  truck's wartime-blackened headlights. Pulling alongside a large

  gangplank, the truck ground to a halt as its worn brakes squealed

  loudly in protest.

  A moment of silence ensued, then six heavily armed soldiers sprang from

  the truck bed and enveloped the vehicle in a perimeter guard. As Ogawa

  made his way down from the conning tower to the dock, he sensed one of

  the guards pointing a weapon in his direction. The soldiers were no

  Imperial Army regulars, he noted, but elite members of the feared

  Kempei Tai military police.

  Two uniformed men exited the cab of the truck and approached Ogawa.

  Recognizing a superior officer, Ogawa stood at attention and saluted

  smartly.

  "I've awaited your arrival, Captain," Ogawa stated with a tinge of

  annoyance.

  Captain Miyoshi Horinouchi ignored the innuendo. As staff operations

  officer for the Sixth Fleet, his mind was occupied with graver matters.

  The Japanese submarine fleet was slowly being decimated in the Pacific

  and the Imperial Navy had no answer for the antisubmarine warfare

  technologies being deployed by the American forces. Desperate battles

  by the fleet's submarines against overwhelming odds inevitably resulted

  in the loss of crew and vessels, which weighted heavily on Horinouchi.

  His short-cropped hair had turned prematurely white, and stress lines

  creased his face like dry riverbeds.

  "Commander, this is Dr. Hisaichi Tanaka of the Army Medical College.

  He will be accompanying you on your mission."

  "Sir, I am not accustomed to carrying passengers while on patrol,"

  Ogawa replied, ignoring the small bespectacled man at Horinouchi's

  side.

  "Your patrol orders to the Philippines have been rescinded," Horinouchi

  replied, handing Ogawa a brown folder. "You have new orders. You are

  to take Dr. Tanaka and his cargo aboard and proceed immediately per

  fleet directives to strike at the enemy's doorstep."

  Glancing at one of the guards holding a German Bergman MP34 submachine

  gun pointed in his direction, Ogawa asserted, "This is most unusual,

  Captain."

  Horinouchi tilted his head to the side, then took a few steps to his

  right. Ogawa followed, leaving Tanaka out of earshot. Speaking

  softly, Horinouchi continued.

  "Ogawa, our surface fleet was annihilated at Leyte Gulf. We counted on

  a decisive battle to stop the Americans, but it was our own forces that

  were defeated instead. It is just a matter of time before all of our

  remaining resources will be assigned in defense of the homeland."

  "We will make the Americans pay heavily in blood," Ogawa said

  harshly.

  "True, but there is no question that they have the will to conquer,

  regardless of the losses. The slaughter of our own people will be

  appalling." Horinouchi contemplated the sacrifice of his own family

  and fell silent for a moment.

  "The Army has approached us for assistance in a valiant operation," he

  continued. "Dr. Tanaka is affiliated with Unit 731. You will take

  him and his cargo across the Pacific and launch an attack on the

  American mainland. You are to avoid detection and protect your boat at

  all costs en route. Succeed, Ogawa, and the Americans will bow to a

  truce and our homeland will be preserved."

  Ogawa was stunned by the words. His fellow submarine commanders were

  waging a mostly defensive battle to protect the remnants of the surface

  fleet, yet he was to cross the Pacific single-handedly and launch an

  attack that would end the war. He might have ridiculed the idea, had

  it not been a fleet staff officer dictating the order to him out of

  desperation in the middle of the night.

  "I am most honored by your confidence, Captain Horinouchi. Rest

  assured my crew and officers will uphold the honor to the emperor. If

  I may ask, sir, what exactly is Dr. Tanaka's cargo?" Ogawa

  inquired.

  Horinouchi gazed forlornly across the bay for several seconds.

  "Maka^e," he finally muttered quietly. "An evil wind."

  Under the watchful eye of Dr. Tanaka, a half-dozen oblong wooden

  crates were carefully loaded by the Kempei Tai guards into the forward

  torpedo room of the I-403 and tightly secured. Ogawa ordered the

  submarine's four diesel engines turned over and the deck lines

  released. At half past two in the morning, the iron sub nosed slowly

  into the inky harbor and inched its way past several other fleet

  I-boats docked in the yard. Ogawa noted with curiosity that Horinouchi

  sat silently in the darkened truck on the pier, refusing to leave until

  after the I-403 was well out of sight.

  Creeping past the docks and warehouses of the sprawling navy yard, the

  sub soon approached a massive shadow looming against the darkness

  ahead. Lying quietly in a repair dock, the massive battleship Yamato

  towered above the submarine like a behemoth. With its massive

  eighteen-inch guns and sixteen-inch-thick armor plating, the Yamato was

  the most feared vessel afloat. Ogawa admired the lines and armament of

  the world's largest battleship as he sailed past, then felt a touch of

  pity toward her. Like her sister ship, the Musashi, recently sunk in

  the Philippines, the Yamato, he feared, was destined to find her way to

  the bottom of the sea before the war was over.

  Gradually the lights of Kure fell away as the submarine snaked around

  several large islands, then entered the Seto Inland Sea. Ogawa ordered

  increased speed as the mountainous island outcroppings fell away and

  the first gray patches of predawn light tinted the eastern sky. As he

  marked their route in the conning tower with the I-403 navigator,

  Ogawa was approached by the executive officer climbing up from below.

  "Hot tea, sir," Lieutenant Yoshi Motoshita said, thrusting a small cup

  toward the commander. A thin man with a warm demeanor, Motoshita

  mustered a grin even at five in the morning.

  "Yes, thanks," Ogawa replied crisply before gulping at the tea. The

  hot liquid was a welcome tonic against the chilled December air and

  Ogawa quickly drained the cup.

  "The sea is unusually calm this morning," Motoshita noted.

  "Fine conditions for fishing," Ogawa said reflectively. The son of a

  fisherman, Ogawa had grown up in a small village on the southern island

  of Kyushu. Accustomed to a hard life on the water, Ogawa had overcome

  a modest background by passing the formidable entrance exams to

  Etajima, the Japanese naval academy. After gaining his commission, he

  was drawn to the growing prewar submarine force and served on two boats

  before attaining c
ommand of the I-403 in late 1943. Under his

  leadership, the I-403 had sunk a half-dozen merchant ships, along with

  an Australian destroyer in the Philippines. Ogawa was considered one

  of the top submarine captains remaining in the rapidly shrinking

  underwater fleet.

  "Yoshi, we'll initiate a zigzag running pattern when we reach the

  strait, then submerge before we leave the mainland. We can take no

  chances with enemy submarines patrolling off our coast."

  "I will alert the crew, sir."

  "And Dr. Tanaka. See that he is situated comfortably."

  "I have offered him my cabin," Motoshita said with a pained look.

  "Judging by the stack of books he brought with him, I think he will

  keep himself occupied and out of our way."

  "Very well," Ogawa replied, wondering silently about his unwanted

  passenger.

  As a crimson sun crept up over the eastern horizon, the I-403 veered

  south from the Inland Sea into the Bungo Strait, a pathway above Japan's southern island of Kyushu that poured into the Pacific