Washington

Admiral Justin Collins had just gotten off the video-phone with his counterpart, Admiral Henry Whitehead in London. At NATO's request, the two Admirals were given the task of coordinating the search for the now infamous mutant whale, at the moment code named BIG SLUETH. It was decided that Operation SLUETH, would be divided into two phases, that headed by Admiral Collins in the western Atlantic and the eastern Atlantic phase controlled by Admiral Whitehead. They had effectively divided the Atlantic in half along the 40 degree meridian of longitude. In addition, consultations with marine biologists had led them to limit their search above the 45 degree parallel of latitude. The biologists had assured them that even the mutant whale could not have traveled further than that in the last five days.

Admiral Collins pushed his chair back from the conference table, slowly stood and walked to the projection screen which showed an enlargement of his portion of the Atlantic. The best guess the scientists could make was that the whale pod would probably be into their southern migration, putting them in an area bordered on the north by Iceland, the east by Norway and the United Kingdom, the west by Greenland and Newfoundland, and on the south by the vast expanse of the open Atlantic. Picking up a pointer and drawing an imaginary line around the area to be searched, he turned to the six men in the room with him and said, "A fucking whale gentlemen, that's all we're looking for, one fucking whale, in an expanse of ocean of only four million fucking square miles." The room was silent. Commander Vince Kelly, the Admiral’s aide, knew Collins well. When he acted like this, Kelly knew, the Admiral was pissed. Ready to retire at the end of the year, Collins had a perfect record. He knew the impossibility of the task and Kelly could sense he didn't want to retire as the Admiral that was outsmarted by a whale. And the magnitude of this search made that possibility very probable. He motioned to the others to be still.

The Admiral turned to face the men. He slowly and deliberately turned his glare on each of them individually, making sure he made eye contact. When he was certain he had their attention, he spoke:

"Gentlemen, I am not certain that any of you understand the magnitude of the task in front of us. Somewhere out there," he turned and again pointed to the projection on the screen, "somewhere out there is a fuckin' whale. He doesn't give out a magnetic or electronic signal. There are no engine or propeller noises to listen for, why, we can't even listen for the crew farting. No, our prey BIG SLUETH, is not designed to be found by all our fucking technology. So how are we going to find him one might ask." Pausing he again made eye contact with each of them. He continued, "I'll tell you how we're going to find him, we're going to use our God Damn Fucking Eyes, just like Captain Ahab, that's how."

"But Admiral," interrupted Captain Samuels, "we can employ some of our technology: Humpbacks are noted for their singing sounds that they make and our underwater noise detection systems can and will detect whales."

"Good Samuels, I'm glad that you know so much about fucking whales and I'm particularly pleased that you volunteered to head up the training of our crews," replied the Admiral. Captain Samuels was stunned and couldn't muster a reply. Kelly smiled; the Admiral was at his best.

"All right, gentlemen, let's get this operation on the move. Sinclair, what ships do we have available?"

Captain Sinclair stood up and walked to the projection screen asking the projectionist to start his slides. He went through a list of available ships. Counting Navy, Coast Guard and private research vessels, it was an impressive 105 ships. "All of these ships have been notified that they will be under our command," he explained. "Those currently at sea were told to remain on station and those in port have been ordered to put to sea by 1300 hours tomorrow, sir."

The Admiral seemed pleased. "Thank you, Captain." "Now what about aircraft? McGovern what's available?"

Captain McGovern followed Sinclair's lead, standing in front of the screen he also called for his slides. Sinclair quietly slipped back into his seat. Turning to Kelly, the Admiral's aide gave him the high sign indicating he had done a good job.

McGovern was now on his second chart. "Since the aircraft search will be totally visual, I have taken the liberty of contacting the private air rescue search groups like the Civil Air Patrol," he explained. "They have agreed to participate by searching the coastal areas. I have assigned them to airspace up to 30 miles off the coast."

The Admiral looked up, smiled, and said, "Good idea."

McGovern continued, "The Coast Guard will supply the fewest aircraft, predominantly since I am arranging to have them in position to perform rescue missions should we have the need, sir." The Admiral, not sure he was happy with that decision, was getting ready to take exception when McGovern, seeing the Admiral's frown, continued, "I figure sir, that with 175 aircraft including helicopters in the air, for extended periods of time, there is a good chance that an aircraft will go down. I want to do our best to make sure we are prepared to rescue any crew." He looked at the Admiral, finally detecting a small nod of approval, he continued, "By 0900 today we will be ready to launch our first aircraft. All we need is to tell them what to look for." That ended his presentation.

Kelly also gave him the high sign as he returned to his seat.

Turning to Lt. Brown, the lowest ranking officer in the room, Admiral Collins said, "And what the fuck do we tell them to look for Lieutenant."

Brown, a marine biologist currently assigned to the San Diego Navy Mammal Research Center, had been flown in last night. He had not slept very much on the flight and he was tired. His uniform, wrinkled and soiled, wasn't in any condition to be seen in front of a three star Admiral. He felt self conscious. However, he had no options. Like his predecessors, Brown walked to the screen. Picking up the pointer, he started his presentation. "I have prepared for your signature sir, a directive to the searchers. First we are looking only for Humpback Whales, so the first criteria for identification would be to identify the species. To do that I have prepared these silhouette drawings of what a Humpback looks like from the side and top views." He flashed these on the screen.

"The nice thing about these, sir, is that being silhouettes they can be faxed with great clarity. Second, for those ships that have listening equipment, I have prepared a short tape which we can transmit to the sonar operators alerting them what to listen for." He played the short tape. "The Humpback, or singing whale as Captain Samuels said earlier, is the only whale that makes this sound."

The Admiral looked at Samuels, then back to Brown, "Go on," he replied.

"Third, we are looking for a pod with four animals, of which one is enormous. So we are going to ask the searchers to locate a pod of four animals with one disproportionately larger than the others. When we locate pods that meet these criteria, we will use helos to transport marine biologists to the sight to finalize the identity process."

The Admiral pondered the information he had just been given. "Lieutenant, let me ask you a question. Just suppose we locate such a pod and it is believed to be the animals we want. Now what the fuck do we do?"

Feeling somewhat uneasy with the question because he didn't have an answer yet, Brown looked at the Admiral and replied, "Sir, I'm not sure just yet, the scientists that were at the UN yesterday are supposed answer that question shortly. I believe sir, that they are going to have teams of scientists with special equipment prepared to be flown to the scene to communicate with the animals."

It was obviously the wrong thing to say because Collins stood up, pounded his fist on the table and looking at Kelly said, "MacArthur gets the Philippines, Eisenhower gets D-Day, Schwartzkoff gets Operation Desert Storm, and I get a fucking talking whale." He turned and started out of the room. Stopping at the door, he faced the men and said, "Let’s get this operation moving. Samuels, you are responsible for getting all the operational communications to the units. Kelly, set up another vision call to Whitehead at 1800 hours," and he stormed out of the room.

At Woods Hole, Jack Webster, Professor Edwards, Dave, Claire and numerous other staff members had been in communication with other marine scientists around the world to coordinate the plan they had developed. It had been decided that two teams of scientists would be assembled. The first stationed at Woods Hole composed of Dave, Claire, and Professor Edwards would respond if the whale was found in the Western Atlantic. And for the Eastern Atlantic, a second team composed of Professors Camelle, Founders and Jacques LaFleur. Although they attempted to convince him of the danger, LaFleur insisted. He convinced them that he had worked his entire life for marine conservation and he was not going to let the greatest opportunity of a lifetime pass him by.

"After all," he said, "When you asked me to stand before the General Assembly, I didn't hesitate. Now I ask you to permit me to participate."

Reluctantly they had agreed to allow him to be a member of the intercept team. However, it was agreed that Francois Belle would be a backup for the aging LaFleur.

Currently the staff at Woods Hole and a similar staff at Greenwich, England were preparing two identical 26-foot hard-bottom inflatables. These two boats were having sound transducers, signal processors, and a laptop computer installed in waterproofed consoles. The pace was frantic. Claire had specified what was needed based on her work on KT. Since it was all available at the university, the two computers had been programmed there last night. The sound transducers were picked up at a Boston distributor and the signal processors were removed from installations in the laboratory. Currently an Air Force jet was in final approach in England delivering the equipment for installation in the Eastern Atlantic inflatable.

Dave had just returned from the Woods Hole workshop where he had looked at the modifications being made to the inflatable there. He was quite pleased with the way the mechanics had protected the computer from the elements and yet maintained its accessibility. His only concern was the visibility of the screen in bright sunlight. He remembered how this had been a problem on KT and how on one occasion, they had to retreat into the cabin to read the screen. Once aware of this, the mechanics told him they would take a look at methods for shading it from direct sunlight. Overall, he was quite pleased with the installation.

Entering the action center which Jack Webster had set up for this operation, Dave saw that a large map of the north Western Atlantic had been put up on the wall. Claire was on the phone talking to Professors Camelle and Founders in England, discussing how to operate the computer that was currently en route. Although they had a like computer in front of them, it did not contain the active program that had been installed in the one they would actually use.

Professor Edwards and Jack Webster were on another phone with Captain Samuels in Washington. He was preparing the operational orders to be sent out as soon as the video call between Collins and Whitehead took place at 1800 hours. Looking at his watch, he realized that was in 15 minutes. Captain Samuels first explained that the message was going out under NATO coding, giving highest priority to the operation. Since they would not understand the coding, he further explained that he wouldn't read that portion of it to them. They concurred with his reasoning and he began to read the body of the message he had just completed writing:

"Effective immediately, all units as identified below, (there was a 10-page list of units that went along with the message, which he didn't read), are assigned to Operation SLUETH. Under this directive all other activities are to cease and units are on 24 hour code 3 status."

"Admiral Collins, and Admiral Whitehead, are assigned operational responsibility for coordination of all Operation SLUETH activities."

"Operational objective to locate Humpback Whale for scientific intercept."

"Whale, code I.D. BIG SLUETH, is believed to be in North Atlantic above latitude 45."

"Whale can be identified by characteristics as shown on silhouettes at end of message. Whale will be in company of three other animals and will be of disproportionate size as shown in silhouettes."

"Audio of sounds emitted by whale type will be transmitted 1300 hours EST today as a further means of identification. If contact is made, notify operational headquarters as specified."

He then went on to explain that there was an attached 10 page list of units assigned to the operation which also listed the operational headquarters as London or Washington, with the appropriate communications code. Captain Samuels paused to let all he had read sink in. When there were no questions he continued by explaining that the orders further specified that the whales are to be tracked until intercept units can be deployed.

Professor Edwards asked Captain Samuels, "do you think they will be able to identify Humpback Whales using the sound tapes?"

Captain Samuels replied, "No problem. These are professional sonar and underwater sound equipment operators, they hear these animals all the time. My concern," he continued, "is will the silhouettes enable them to identify the correct animals and what happens if these whales joined up with another pod and we are no longer looking for four animals but some other number. Then what do we do?"

Jack and the Professor looked at each other, both recognizing that if that occurred it would surely screw things up. "We don't have an answer for that situation," replied Jack, "But we don't think that will occur," he concluded. Captain Samuels wasn't so sure, but he didn't comment.

"I assume you agree with the message then," he asked. Both Jack and the Professor concurred. "Thank you gentlemen," said the Captain, "It will be transmitted within the hour," and the phone went dead.

Professor Edwards looked at Jack and the two men realized that the search was about to start….…

Back in Washington the video phone conference was about to begin. Admiral Collins took his place at the head of the table. Brown, Samuels, McGovern, Sinclair, and Kelly were already at their places. A red light illuminated on the control console in front of Kelly. Holding his index finger up he said, "Admiral, I believe we have Whitehead." He pressed the console button and the screen in front of the room lit showing Whitehead and his seven man team around a table similar to the one they were at in Washington.

"Afternoon again, Justin," said the British Admiral. Recognizing that it was five hours later in London, Admiral Collins responded, "I suppose good evening is more appropriate for you, Henry."

"You're quite right, Justin, we are preparing for our evening tea," he replied.

"Well, I hope you will put some fortification into it Henry for I suspect we are all going to require some before this operation is completed," responded Collins.

Admiral Whitehead laughed, stood up and, walking to a cabinet to his left showed his American counterparts that unlike their conference rooms, British military practices permitted discretionary fortification. As the Americans looked at a well stocked bar, the Admiral explained, "Remember, gentlemen, it was the British Navy that used to give its sailors a daily allotment of rum, Purser's Rum that is." He paused for effect then added, "You can be certain, Justin, we are prepared to fortify our tea, should it become necessary."

Admiral Collins laughed and suggested that all future meetings be in London. They then got down to the serious business of Operation SLUETH. Samuels pressed a button and both screens now displayed the message that he was prepared to issue. The group went through it word by word, made several minor changes, and then concurred on its completeness. It was decided that the message would be issued from London since the fleet on the eastern side of the Atlantic was composed of ships from six navies while that on the western side was composed of only the US and Canada.

The discussion then centered on the air search. Captain McGovern explained how they had organized the air search to include standby aircraft for crew rescue should an aircraft go down, as well as assigning coastal searches to the Civil Air Patrol. Colonel Evans, from the RAF, McGovern's counterpart, had done the same. It was remarkable how similar both plans were.

They discussed other logistics issues, methods for tracking whale sightings, updating of intercept team status and then finally the handling of the press. It was Whitehead who suggested that all press reports come from one command center. Collins concurred. After a short discussion, it was decided that because of their 5 hour time difference, London would be the focal point for all press releases. Whitehead turned to Lt. Colonel Wilson seated next to him and appointed him press officer. To assure that there would be no screw-ups on this side of the ocean, Collins appointed his aide Captain Kelly for any press interfacing on this side of the Atlantic, but only after initial press information was released from England.

Collins asked, "Does anyone have additional questions?" There were none. He suggested they issue the message and begin Operation SLUETH.

Whitehead, agreeing, said, "Good hunting, gentlemen," and the vision conference was over. Kelly looked at his watch. It was 1845 EST.

Dave studied the wall chart of the Western Atlantic. The more he looked at it, the more certain he became that the whale was headed towards Newfoundland. His logic was simple. The animal headed away from the Peder ARRSETT in a westerly direction. The ARRSETT headed east towards Norway, while the Rainbow Savior headed almost due south. Surely the animal sensed where the boats were and attempted to keep clear of them, taking his pod to safety.

In the western Atlantic there is a natural whale migratory route along the coast of Greenland through the Denmark Strait between Greenland and Iceland. From the southern tip of Greenland the whales then proceed through the Davis Strait to St. John's on the tip of Newfoundland. It was here, he was certain, they would encounter the whale. Newfoundland was where they had to be, prepared to intercept the whale. And if his calculations were correct, they needed to be there within the next three days.

"Professor, Jack, can I see you for a moment?" Dave asked. The two men stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Dave. Claire, who was now off the phone with London, also stopped to listen. Dave said, "We need to get our equipment to Newfoundland as soon as possible. I believe we will find our whale in the fishing grounds off of St. John's sometime in the next three days."

Professor Edwards looked at him and asked, "May I ask what do you base your assumptions on?"

Dave went on to explain his reasoning. They listened intently. When he had finished, Jack turned to the Professor and asked his opinion.

He responded, "It makes sense. But even if Dave is off in his assumptions, I'm certain the whale is going to be found much further north than Cape Cod. So why not have the inflatable positioned closer to where we believe we will truly encounter him."

The room was silent. Eyes wandered from person to person. Dave walked to Claire who was seated at a small desk. He placed his hands on her shoulders and added, "It just doesn't make sense to sit here, hundreds miles south of where we really expect this beast to be. And Jack, I am absolutely convinced we will spot him somewhere off of St. John's in the next three days.

Jack looked at the chart. He agreed with the logic, but in his mind he had to figure how to get the helicopter, boat, and support people there. He dialed his secretary. "Karen, get me Captain Frates at the Coast Guard base, please. And when you get him, connect him to the conference room here." He placed the receiver in the cradle. "How long before the boat is ready?" he asked Dave.

"The boat should be ready now. They were completing it when I was there an hour ago," he answered.

"Good, why don't you three go pack," replied Jack, "You are going to Newfoundland." They slapped hands. Dave walked over to Jack, extended his hand.

As they shook hands Dave said, "It's the right decision, I know it is."

Captain Frates had already been ordered to support the operation and was prepared to airlift the intercept crew to the whales should they be spotted in the western Atlantic. When he returned Jack's call and was told of the plan to station the crew in St. John's, it was easy for Frates to respond. He needed no further authorization.

By 8:00 PM the inflatable, Dave, Claire, and the Professor were in a Coast Guard C-130 heading north. Catching them at the airport, Jack told them LaFleur had called. He wanted to inform them that he believed the whale would be spotted in the western part of the Atlantic. When Jack had explained to the Frenchman that Dave had already convinced them of that very fact, and had even narrowed it down to the tip of Newfoundland within the next three days, LaFleur suggested they position themselves there. Jack explained that Dave, Claire, and Professor Edwards were already on their way to St. John's. Jacques was pleased, explained Webster.

By the end of the first day, the fleet of boats and aircraft in Operation SLUETH had spotted more whales than Admiral Collins cared to acknowledge existed.

It was clear more refinements to the operation were required. From the decks of ships or the cockpits of aircraft, it was clear that distinguishing whales was a whole lot more complex than looking at silhouettes. They moved, they dove, they looked different in the sun than in the shadow of a cloud. But worst of all was the fog. This was the fog season in the North Atlantic and low visibility made whale spotting difficult from the air.

Sitting with his feet up on the table, Collins scanned the room. "Well gentlemen, do any of you have any fucking ideas?" The room remained silent. The Admiral waited. Then removing his feet from the table, he shifted in his chair, stood, and walked to the front of the room. Standing with his hands behind his back, he stared at the map in front of him. Clearly there must be something we can do, he thought to himself. But the answer didn't come.

Glancing at his watch, he suddenly realized that it was almost 2100 hours. Recognizing that they had to be back early, he turned to his staff and called it a day.

It was a little before 6:00 AM as Dave and Claire stood on the hill at Cape Spear, just outside of St. John's. Watching the sunrise, Dave said, "Do you realize, we are probably the first people on the North American continent to see the sun today."

"It's so beautiful here," she said, as she buttoned her coat against the chilly, morning air. Below them a pod of Pilot Whales, swooshing and blowing swam southward. Claire was thrilled to see the little Puffin birds flying and diving all around her. They stood there, she in front of Dave, his arms around her, both staring into the sea. Neither wanted this moment to end. This was the first time they had been really alone since the Coast Guard called them on their way home from the research trip off Cape Cod.

Dave whispered into her ear, "Claire, I, well I've been thinking. Well, maybe you shouldn't go with us in the boat."

Claire pulled away and turned toward him. "What do you mean, I shouldn't go?"

He looked at her, hesitated for a moment, and replied, "What I meant was, well, standing here I realize how much you mean to me, and, well it could be dangerous. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

Claire wanted to be mad, she wanted to tell him....... she was going to......... She slowly reached up with her hands, placed them around his neck, and kissed him. He returned her embrace.

When they stopped, she pulled away, looked into his eyes and said, "I want to go, I came this far and I deserve to go, and besides Dave, I want to be with you." They embraced again; blowing wind, screeching birds, and a magnificent sunrise silhouetted them against the sea as they kissed.

"Uh hum, uh hum," said the Professor. Claire and Dave broke their embrace, turned, and saw the Professor sitting on a rock next to them.

"How long have you been there?" asked Claire.

"Oh, not long, just a moment or two," he replied. "I hated to disturb you two but they want us back in town. They have set up a small command post at the airport and are in contact with Washington. Admiral Collins wants us on a conference call with Jack at the Institute in 15 minutes."

"Then we had better get going," Dave replied.

The trio started back to town. When Dave was just out of earshot, the Professor turned to Claire and whispered, " I see he's learning." Claire didn't answer, she didn't have to. Her smile gave her away.

The Admiral had just finished reading the report when the phone rang. The illuminated light on the speaker phone told him it was the conference call he had requested. Pushing down the switch, he activated the speaker, "Collins here," he said.

"Morning, Admiral," responded Jack Webster. I have my associates Professor Edwards, Claire Snyder and Dave Richardson, on the line as you requested."

"Good, now please explain to me what the hell you are doing in Newfoundland, and who the hell authorized the trip?"

Jack explained the logic behind their belief that the whale would be spotted somewhere off the Newfoundland coast, and that because he totally agreed with the logic he had authorized the trip to have the team in close proximity to where they believed the intercept would be made.

The Admiral again looked down at the message he had received a little earlier. He thought to himself, if there was anything he couldn't stand it was a correct scientist. He didn't like scientists, they were notorious for never following orders. In his business, people that didn’t follow orders were a risk.

He hesitated telling them but decided he had better fill them in. "Well, you guys may have made a lucky guess. I have a message here that says a Canadian crew spotted a pod of four whales just at dusk last night about 100 miles off Hamilton Inlet, Labrador. The report describes one of the whales as a mammoth compared to the others. Unfortunately, the weather was closing in and they lost them."

Dave snapped his fingers, turned to the Professor and gave him the thumbs up sign. Claire, standing behind him, rubbed her hand across Dave's back. "Which direction were the whales heading?" asked the Professor.

"The report says southwest," replied the Admiral.

"Can we talk to the crew?" asked Dave.

The Admiral hesitated, "Sure I guess we can arrange a telephone conference."

"Good, please try to do it before 10:45," replied Dave.

Fucking scientists, giving me orders now, he thought to himself. "Kelly," said the Admiral, "arrange the conference call."

Kelly nodded that he would.

"Have there been any other sightings?" asked Webster.

"There are more fucking whales out there then there are hairs on your head," replied the Admiral. "The problem we're having, Jack, is identifying them from the air and then assessing their size. To our crews, they are all big." Continuing he explained, "The other issue is that my staff and I believe we are reporting the same whales more than once. As our ships and planes move, so do the whales, and before you know it other crews are reporting whales, we believe, were reported earlier."

Jack sympathized with the Admirals problem and said, "That is highly probable, but I don't know how we can avoid it. As a matter of fact, it doesn't matter how many times the whales are reported, because we are only looking for one. Besides the Canadian crew's report, have their been any other large whales reported?"

"There was one large animal that the RAF followed up on yesterday, but that was a false alarm. Captain Samuels is tracking down a report that your counterparts in the eastern Atlantic have just been launched to the coast of Scotland," the Admiral replied.

Just then Samuels put the receiver on the phone he was using down, turned to the Admiral and said; "I have just confirmed that intercept team two is on its way to the western coast of Scotland, near Prestwick. Both the RAF and coastal spotters have confirmed seeing a pod of whales, numbering more than four, but one is reported to be enormous. It was decided because of the size of this whale that the team view the pod themselves and make the final decision on whether or not to attempt an intercept."

Jack Webster and the team in St. John's heard the explanation over the speaker phone. Jack responded, "Good that makes sense. Please keep us informed of any developments. Do you need anything more from us?"

Hesitating for a moment, the Admiral looked around at his staff. There were no other questions. "Jack, let's have another conference call at 1600, or earlier if developments dictate," Collins replied.

"Fine by me, speak to you then," and the conference call ended.

The Professor turned to Dave and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think they're chasing a ghost in Scotland. We need to talk to the Canadian crew. I just have a feeling that we’re going to learn something from them."

The telephone conference call with the Canadian air crew, took place at about 1100. Lt. Commander Sullivan, shed considerable light on the sighting. The son of a Newfoundland fisherman, he had been raised on the water and had observed whales all his life. Dave kept hearing his words, over and over, "The bloody whale looked like an island. If it hadn't been moving, you'd likely to build a cottage on it."

Dave knew Sullivan was familiar with whales, and concluded from his description, that this was the whale they were after. He was heading down the coast; probably by late tomorrow, he would be approaching St. John's.

After they had completed the call with the Canadian pilots, Dave suggested, "We had better get ready. Claire, you need to check out the equipment, and then we all need to practice launching the inflatable."

"I agree," replied the Professor, "But the Coast Guard helicopter hasn't arrived yet and without the helicopter we are not going to get very much launching practice in."

"Why don't you go to the control tower and check on when it will get here, while I go with Claire to check out the equipment," Dave replied..

With that they went their separate ways. The inflatable was stored in a hangar when it was unloaded from the C-130 last night. Dave and Claire checked it over carefully to assure it hadn't been damaged. They unwrapped the foam protection the laboratory technicians had put around the electronic equipment. Nothing appeared broken. After checking to make sure all the equipment was properly connected, Claire turned on the computer. The pentium microprocessor booted up and within 45 seconds it was ready to operate.

Dave checked the boat. Inflatable chambers were firm, 125 HP engine appeared undamaged, the three batteries had water and the charge indicator windows on all three were green indicating full charge. He checked the fuel tanks, the two 30 gallon plastic tanks, one on each side of the console were full. Moving to the front of the boat, Dave opened the storage box. Inside he found some spare tools, emergency flares, a first aid kit and some rope. Seeing that Claire was finished with the computer, he moved back and sat behind the console. He studied the engine controls and instruments, oil, temp, rpm and two fuel gauges. There were two ship-to-shore radios, GPS, and a compass.

Looking at the top of the console, Dave couldn't help but admire the job the laboratory mechanics had done installing the computer. It fit snugly inside a plexiglas box which they had obviously built and bolted to the top of the console, totally encased in the plexiglas, except in the front where they had placed a soft almost latex-like, clear plastic over the computer. Although you could touch and operate the controls, your hands never really touched the computer. It was truly encased in its own world, kind of like in a big baggie, he thought.

Just then the Professor walked into the hangar. Seeing him enter Dave, turned and said, "Wait till you see this, Professor, it's great."

"Let's hope we get to use it," he replied.

Claire and Dave stared at the Professor, bewildered. "The weather closed in south of us and the helicopter is stuck about 300 miles south of here. Adding to that, the weather north of us isn't much better. It appears the two weather systems are coming together and by tonight we are supposed to be engulfed in fog and rain."

Claire and Dave looked at each other.

"Shit, we don't need lousy weather, not now. God dammit!," Dave shouted as he hit the side of the inflatable.

"Surely the helicopter can make it here by tomorrow evening," exclaimed Claire.

"Maybe, but don't count on it," replied the Professor.

"Let's call Jack at the Hole," suggested Dave.

Jack was aware of the weather, he had gotten a report 20 minutes earlier, their information only confirmed the forecast they had been given. The ensuing discussion did not result in any new ideas. Jack explained that if the whale now being pursued in Scotland was not the one they were looking for, then they would just have to track this one down further south, maybe off Maine.

Dave didn't like that idea. The UN had been specific; 10 days or they would take alternative action. He was sure, like Admiral Collins, there was another officer somewhere planning the destruction of this animal and any other whales that attacked humans. They had to meet their deadline. Dave chose not to disclose his fears to Webster.

It was now 1430. They would participate in the conference call with Admiral Collins in 90 minutes. They hung up, looking at each other no words were needed. Finally Dave said, "I'm going to run into town, why don't you guys finish checking everything over and I'll be right back."

"And what are you up to?" asked the Professor.

"Nothing, nothing," replied Dave, "I just want to get some more items for the boat. While I'm gone, Claire, why don't you show the Professor how the computer system works." With that Dave left the hangar.

The Professor looked at Claire and remarked, "He is up to something."

"Don't worry, he knows what he's doing. Let me show you this system, I think you will like it." And Claire started to show the Professor how the program worked.

The conference call took place as scheduled. Admiral Collins had just spoken to Admiral Whitehead and it appeared the whale reported off Prestwick was probably not the whale they were looking for. LaFleur himself had flown out in an RAF Chinook and made the determination the animal was not BIG SLUETH.

There were a few moments of silence, then Dave asked, "Who the hell is BIG SLUETH?"

The Admiral explained that was the code name assigned to the whale. Had the Admiral been able to see Dave, he would not have been happy. He was silently making fun of the name to Claire and Professor Edwards.

Webster discussed the weather conditions along the coast of Newfoundland and asked the Admiral if he thought the helicopters would be able to make St. John's tomorrow. Captain McGovern answered the question by explaining that to safely operate they required half mile visibility, with a 800-foot ceiling. The weather forecast didn't support the minimum requirements.

Collins broke in, explaining that operations within 300 miles of the coast were expected to be crippled by the weather for the next 36-48 hours. "Let's hope our whale is swimming up the Thames towards London," said the Admiral. "It’s as sunny as Florida there," he quipped. In reality he really did want the whale to be found in the eastern Atlantic, because then it would be Whitehead's problem and he could go back to running his Navy, he thought to himself.

With no further information or questions, the conference call with Washington ended. Dave turned to the Professor and said, "That whale's going to be here tomorrow."

Edwards, knowing Dave, and suspicious of his disappearance into town two hours before, looked at him and asked, "What have you got up your sleeve?" Claire remained silent and watched Dave. She also believed he was up to something.

Dave replied, "I'm not sure yet, but tomorrow we are going to have to make some decisions. Let's sleep on it and see what the weather brings in the morning."