"Avenge Tomasso Testaverde!"
"Retake Louisbourg!"
"What's Louisbourg?" asked Remo.
Sandy bit her lower lip. "Damned if I know."
Then the fleet passed them, rank upon rank of boats, making a path for them that closed up like a wound once it had passed the Cayuga by.
Finally they were out of the thickest part of the fleet.
Looking back at the scores of sterns with their colorful names and home ports from as far south as Virginia, Remo made a helpful comment. "Well, you could chase them."
"Fat lot of good that will do me. First I get captured. Then I run smack into this. It's back to the Alaska halibut patrol for me for sure."
"Before you pack, fetch me a cell phone. I'm going to check in."
"Maybe you can warn someone."
"First I gotta find out where Louisbourg is."
"Probably in Quebec."
"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Remo, leaning on the one button, which set in motion automated relays that would connect him directly with Folcroft.
Chapter 26
Dr. Harold W. Smith knew it could get worse. He just didn't know how much worse.
In the Pacific a Canadian submarine had breached in the middle of a U.S. salmon fleet. It was an unprovoked attack. Six boats had gone down. All crew had been pulled aboard alive and were in Canadian custody.
Smith had been about to reach for the red telephone when he heard a familiar ringing.
He experienced a momentary hesitation. It was the blue contact phone, not the dedicated line to the White House.
Smith lifted the blue handset and said, "Yes."
"Smitty, we're on the Cayuga."
"Good. The rescue came off successfully?"
"We're in Canadian waters and had to sink a couple of Canadian cutters."
"It was unavoidable. Good work."
"There's just one problem."
"What is that?"
"We just passed the biggest concentration of boats since they assembled the Spanish Armada."
Smith's voice tightened like a violin string. "I am listening," he said.
"They're ours."
"Navy or Coast Guard?"
"Neither. Commercial fishing. And they're heading north with blood in their eyes."
"What is their intent?"
"To take what's theirs and sack Louisbourg, from what they're saying."
"Louisbourg?"
"Yeah. Ever heard of it?"
"Hold, please." Smith punched in the name and up came a short description, with maps.
Smith expanded the search, and what he read dried the saliva in his slack mouth.
"Remo, Louisbourg was the site of a preRevolutionary engagement between the Colonies and what was then New France. It was a fortress on Cape Breton Island in pre-Confederation Canada."
"So?"
"It was in part a battle over cod. Because no colonial navy existed, New England fishermen were convinced by the British politicians of that time to sail north and take the fortress from French hands. They battled the defending French fishermen."
"Looks like history is about to repeat itself."
"Remo, this is serious."
"You're telling me? Those fishermen are out to kick Canadian butt, and nobody's going to be able to stop them."
"Agreed. But there has also been an incident in the Pacific. A Canadian sub breached in the middle of a U.S. salmon fishing fleet. It is unclear if either strayed into the other's fisheries, but there are boats under the water and the Canadians took several prisoners."
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Remo asked.
"If you are thinking that Quebec is unlikely to be operating in the Pacific, you are correct."
"Then it isn't the French Canadians."
"Not exclusively."
"There's another thing, Smitty. I think the brogue or burr I heard is Newfoundland talk."
"Can you be certain?"