CHAPTER FIVE

The Landing at Little Diomede Island

The cushions were pulled from me in the middle of the night. A night that was not a night, aboard a cruise ship that wasn’t a cruise ship. I reacted badly. As the cushions were being jerked from me, I slipped under them, and then slid onto the deck on all fours, springing to my feet in a low crouch, sideways to my aggressor, in a long-practiced Aikido maneuver. I ended up facing an astonished Filipino. Around his neck hung the strangest looking clock I had ever seen. It was the size of a dinner plate but surrounded by a thick rubber bumper. Its huge numbers were nearly effervescently white. The clock swung from the Filipino’s neck like a pendulum. Thoughts of Lewis Carroll returned.

“What do you want?” I demanded irately. “And who are you?” Then I relaxed my posture and reached for my bag. I looked around the Lido deck. The Filipino and I were alone. He finally clarified matters, after finding his voice.