Target Alaska The Arms of Armageddon

"How long have you been on this case, agent Harrington?"

"We've been trailing these groups for four years. We recently heard of this new operation, dealing in red mercury, plutonium and enriched uranium. We believe they process low-grade uranium into higher-grade, more dangerous fissionable material and sell it to the highest bidder. They also manufacture nuclear missiles, 'dirty bombs' and much more. We haven't been able to pinpoint their location, because they have been scrupulously strict about dumping their wastes out at sea, using payoffs and threatening sea captains of cruisers, cargo ships, and others. Otherwise, the trail of radioactive groundwater would have led us to them long ago. Because aerial photographs have been unable to pinpoint a manufacturing facility, we believe the operation may be underground. This is a smart and dangerous group."

About an hour went by while both men gazed out at the calm sea. Daylight was beginning to break over the horizon; the moon was no longer visible. The sky was clear. It had been several hours since Niro's ship had picked up Sean and Juliana from the lifeboat. Sean was uneasy, glancing often at Juliana's bag containing her testing equipment and a scarf she had left on the seat. He picked up the scarf, placed it around his neck, and walked out to the deck.

The cashmere was soft and comforting against his rough skin, and the flowery aroma of Juliana's perfume surrounded him. It brought back memories of the last few days. He could almost see her face as he recalled their first meeting, when Juliana looked like the supreme executive bureaucrat: arrogant and cool. "What a bitch!" he had thought when he first met her. Yet how vulnerable she seemed on that lifeboat, huddling against him.