Black Wind by Clive Cussler Page A

natural source sufficient to reach any sort of lethality. Sandy, what did you find in the historical profile of cyanide deaths in the U.S.?”
    â€œThere’s been a slew of them, but most are individual accidents or suspected homicides or suicides resulting from ingestion of solid cyanides.” Sandy reached down and picked up a manila folder she had brought along and skimmed through one of the pages inside.
    â€œThe only significant mass death was related to the Tylenol poisonings, which killed seven people, again by ingestion. I found only two references for multiple deaths from suspected cyanide gas. A family of four died in the Oregon town of Warrenton back in 1942, and in 1964 three men were killed in Butte, Montana. The Montana case was listed as a mining accident due to extraction solvents. The Oregon case was listed as undetermined. And I found next to nothing for prior incidences in and around Alaska.”
    â€œThen a natural-occurring release doesn’t sound very likely,” Dirk remarked.
    â€œSo if it was a man-made airborne release, who did it and why?” Sandy asked while jabbing her fork into a bowl of angel-hair pasta.
    â€œI think the ‘who’ was our friends on the fishing boat,” he said drily.
    â€œThey weren’t picked up by the authorities?” Sarah asked.
    Dirk shook his head in disgust. “No, the trawler disappeared. By the time the local authorities arrived in the area, they were long gone. The official assessment is that they were presumed to be foreign poachers.”
    â€œI suppose it’s possible. It sounds a little dangerous to me, but I guess they could release the gas from their boat upwind of a sea lion colony,” Sarah replied, shaking her head.
    â€œA fast way to do a lot of killing,” Dirk added. “Though poachers armed with AK-47s does seem a little extreme. And I’m still wondering about the retail market for sea lions.”
    â€œIt is perplexing. I haven’t heard of anything like it before.”
    â€œI hope that you two don’t suffer any ill effects from the exposure,” Dirk said, looking at Sarah with concern.
    â€œThanks,” Sarah replied. “It was a shock to our system, but we’ll be fine. The long-term effect for minimal exposure has not been proven to be dangerous.”
    Dirk pushed away a cleaned plate of Pasta Alfredo and rubbed his taut stomach with satisfaction.
    â€œExcellent dining choice.”
    â€œWe eat here all the time,” Sarah said as she reached over and outgrabbed Dirk for the bill.
    â€œI insist on returning the favor,” Dirk said, looking at Sarah with a serious smile.
    â€œSandy and I have to travel to the CDC research lab in Spokane for a few days, but I’d love to take you up when we return,” she replied, intentionally leaving Sandy out of the equation.
    Dirk smiled in acknowledgment. “I can’t wait.”

6
    T HE LANDING WHEELS OF the Gulfstream V jet dropped slowly from the fuselage as the sleek aircraft aligned its nose at the runway. Its wings cut through the moist, hazy air like a scalpel, as the nineteen-passenger luxury business jet dropped gracefully out of the sky until its rubber tires touched the tarmac with a screech and a wisp of blue smoke. The pilot guided the plane to the corporate jet terminal of Tokyo’s modern Narita International Airport before shutting down the high-pitched turbines. As a ground crew chocked the wheels of the jet, a gleaming black Lincoln limousine glided up, stopping precisely at the base of the plane’s passenger stairwell.
    Chris Gavin squinted in the bright sun as he stepped down from the jet and climbed into the waiting limo, followed by a legion of assistants and assorted vice presidents. As chief executive officer of SemCon Industries, Gavin commanded the largest semiconductor manufacturing company in the world. The flamboyant and free-spending corporate chief, who inherited