"I am," answered Pitt without introducing himself.
"A bit breezy today."
"About twenty knots, I should judge."
"You a flyer?"
"I have a few hours in the air."
"Malcolm Stokes."
"Dirk Pitt."
"I understand you want to fly to Black Water Inlet."
Pitt nodded. "Ed Posey told me that's where I could find a totem carver by the name of Mason Broadmoor."
"I know Mason. His village sits at the lower end of Moresby Island, across the Houston Stewart Channel from Kunghit Island."
"How long a flight?"
"An hour and a half across Hecate Strait. Should get you there in time for lunch."
"Sounds good," said Pitt.
Stokes gestured at the black case. "What you got in there, a trombone?"
"A hydrophone, an instrument for measuring underwater sound."
Without further discussion, Stokes capped the fuel tank and inserted the nozzle back into the gas pump as Pitt loaded his gear on board. After untying the mooring lines and pushing the plane away from the dock with one foot, Stokes made his way to the cockpit.
"Care to ride up front?" he asked.
Pitt smiled inwardly. He saw no passenger seats in the cargo section. "Don't mind if I do."
Pitt strapped himself into the copilot's seat as Stokes started and warmed up the big single radial engine and checked his gauges. Already the receding tide had carried the aircraft three meters from the dock. After a visual check of the channel for other boats or planes, Stokes eased the throttle forward and took off, banking the Beaver over Campbell Island and heading west. As they climbed, Pitt recalled the report Hiram Yaeger had given him before leaving Washington.
The Queen Charlotte Islands are made up of about 150 islands running parallel to the Canadian mainland 160 kilometers to the east. The total area of the islands comes to 9,584 square kilometers. The population of 5,890 is made up mostly of Haida Indians, who invaded the islands in the eighteenth century. The Haida used the abundant red cedars to build huge dugout canoes and. multifamily plank houses supported by massive portal poles, and to carve splendid totem poles as well as masks, boxes and dishes.
The economy is based on lumber and fishing as well as the mining of copper, coal and iron ore. In 1997, prospectors working for Dorsett Consolidated Mining Ltd., found a kimberlite pipe on Kunghit Island, the southernmost island in the Queen Charlotte chain. After drilling a test hole, 98 diamonds were found in one 52-kilogram sample. Although Kunghit Island was part of the South Moresby National Park Reserve, the government allowed Dorsett Consolidated to file a claim and lease the island. Dorsett then launched an extensive excavation operation and closed off the island to all visitors and campers. It was estimated by New York brokers C. Dirgo & Co. that the mine could bring out as much as $2 billion in diamonds.
Pitt's thoughts were interrupted by Stokes. "Now that we're away from prying eyes, how do I know you're Dirk Pitt with the National Underwater & Marine Agency?"
"Do you have the authority to ask?"
Stokes took a leather case from his breast pocket and flipped it open. "Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Criminal Intelligence Directorate."
"So I'm addressing Inspector Stokes."
"Yes, sir, that is correct."
"What would you like to see, credit cards, driver's license, NUMA ID, a blood donor card?"
"Just answer one question," said Stokes, "dealing with a shipwreck."
"I have my reasons for wanting to land. Reason one. To allow the cameras encased in the floats to take close-up pictures during landing and takeoff."
"Somehow I have the impression they hate uninvited visitors. What makes you think we won't be stood against a privy and shot?"
"Reason two," said Stokes, brushing off Pitt's objections. "My superiors are hoping for just such an event. Then they can come swooping in here and close the bastards down."
"Naturally."
"Reason three. We have an undercover agent working in the mines. We're hoping he can pass me information while we're on the ground."
"We're just full of devious little plots, aren't we?" said Pitt.
"In a more serious vein, if worse comes to worst, I'll let Dorsett's security people know I'm a Mountie before they offer us a cigarette and a blindfold. They're not so stupid as to risk invasion by a small army of law officers running about the place searching for the body of one of their finest."
"You did notify your team and superiors we'd be dropping in?"
Stokes looked hurt. "Any disappearance is timed to make the evening newspapers. Not to worry, Dorsett's mine executives abhor bad publicity."