The mighty Mississippi River meanders from her humble beginings in the northern United States down to her gaping mouth in the Gulf of Mexico. She has seen her fair share of the usual disasters that are associated with any river. But the Mississippi hides a dark secret that she is about to unveil. She is lying in wait to unleash her savage furry.

In a once proud nation's most deperate hour one man will step forth offering salvation, but to gain it the stricken country must pay a heavy price.

Not only will Pitt have to thwart his most dangerous villain yet but he must also battle the forces of nature in all her savage glory. When events hit home, Pitt is torn between two choices both of which have disastrous consequences. Will Pitt be able to stop the cataclysm of events or will he find himself of the outside looking in, watching everything he knows disappear around him, unable to help...

hmmm... interesting plot, I wonder what the river has planned? Are you thinking of her changing course? Massive earthquake perhaps? I'm hooked. cop:

Dirk Pitt shifted in his chair as the head of the genetic department lectured him on why they need a particular specimen for study, ASAP. Chris Johnston was a moderately tall, thin, balding man who had been talking nonstop for the last hour and a half. Pitt had no idea what he was talking about. All he had been able to derive from the endless babble was the word "horse." Thankfully, a phone call interrupted the long winded speech.



Tanslate the title and it will give you a vague clue. :P

P.S. I'm sadistic, I intend to give the story one pargraph at a time.

I'll be nice only because I am bored at the moment. :lol:

“Hello.” Pitt said when he picked up the receiver.

“Hi,” replied a familiar voice.

“Be in my office in one hour” Pitt said tersely and hung up. “Now would you please specify what it is that you want again? You have one minute.” Pitt watched as Johnston recollected himself and began to speak again.

“I would like you to please contact this woman and ask her to bring in her horse so we can obtain DNA samples for study.” He finished the statement by handing Pitt a piece of paper with a name and address on it.

“Any horse she may have?” asked Pitt, perplexed. He watched as Johnston’s brows furrowed as he grabbed the paper and scribbled something on it, then storm out of the office forgetting the rest of his papers.

After the geneticist left the room, Pitt leaned back in his chair. He never liked dealing with department heads. Dirk wished he knew how Admiral Sandecker had done it for all the years he was the head of NUMA. While Pitt was mentally debating whether it would be worth the effort to harass the much sought after horse’s owner, he noticed that Johnston had left a magazine with his papers. Picking it up Pitt noted that it was left open at a specific article. The article itself really did not catch his eye but the picture did. It was of a black horse in mid-jump with a young woman riding bareback. The background had been darkened in a way so that only the horse and rider showed. The horse had four socks and a blaze running down his face, under normal circumstances they would have been white but on this horse, they were dark red. Pitt also noticed that the horse had what looked to be red stripes, like brindle on a dog. It’s tail was also red. Pitt thought it was an elaborate dye job.

Very interesting, Lisa! This, I take it is your story only.

yes
:) :)

Pitt picked up the phone and dialed the number that was on the paper Johnston had given him. He tried to read the scribbled name but it was too illegible. Pitt could not figure out why genetics wanted a horse but he knew that it was not necessarily an odd request.

“Aló,” answer a young feminine voice with a distinct Spanish accent.

“Hello,” Pitt said going out on a limb, hoping he would not have to remember any of his high school Spanish. “Is this Lisa Regal?”

“Yes, this is she.” in good English but retaining much of her accent.

“I am Dirk Pitt, the head of the National Underwater and Marine Agency. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes.” Pitt could tell that she was on a cell phone because the reception was bad.

“Um, would I be able to come to your office? I can be there in 45 minutes.” She asked him.

“Yes, if that suits you,” Pitt said before the connection was lost completely.

Lisa Regal leaned back in the passenger seat of the red 1966 AC Ford Cobra after she hung up her cell phone. She loved riding in the antique topless car. After a minute she at up and craned to look over her shoulder at the dark green pickup that had been tailing the sports car through Washington D.C. Lisa relaxed when a large dark nose poked itself out of the window of the stock trailer that the pickup was pulling.

"Don't worry about them," came a male voice from the driver's side of the car.

"You say that when they are your babies." Lisa replied with a mock pout. The man laughed at the comment as he focus at navigating the traffic.

"The head of Numa just called me." she said after a couple of minutes.

"Really."

"It sounds as though Johnston is trying to get him to unwittingly get me to bring them Relámpago." Lisa said with an air of anger in her voice.

"Are you?"

¡Claro que no!

Pitt stepped off the elevator at the ground level of the thirty story Numa headquarters. He had been looking for Johnston for the last 30 minutes, but had been unable to find him. Pitt wanted to return his papers to him and to find out why they were going through all this fuss over a horse. Pitt decided to take a chance and walked outside. He nearly fell over laughing.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot, with the stupidest look on his face, was Johnston. Standing in front of him with her back to Pitt was a young woman, who at that moment was throwing a temper tantrum. She was yelling, animatedly, at Johnston in rapid Spanish and had started to attract a crowd. Pitt notice that Al Giordino was standing there watching the two combatants as was Summer and Loren Pitt. He also saw his son, Dirk Pitt Jr., leaning against his AC Ford Cobra thoroughly enwrapped by the spectacle. Just behind the car was a dark green pickup attached to a large stock trailer, Jack Dahlgren was hanging out the driver side door of the pick up. Several shadows could be seen behind the closed windows of the trailer.

Pitt turned his attention back to the young woman. She looked to be about 5’6”, with a light build. Her long honey, blonde hair fell to just below her shoulder blades. She wore a light blue halter-top that left several inches of skin exposed. Her black jeans that looked as if they had come from a rack in the men’s section, were belted low on her hips. The neon, sparkly, orange belt contrasted sharply from the black denim, as did the thin, triple stacked chains that hung from her belt loops on both of her legs. Her feet were noticeably bare. The exposed tattoo on her lower back seemed to pop off her light to medium tan skin.

I was going to describe the tattoo but it is better if you just see it.

The heated debate was abruptly interrupted by a loud metallic noise. Pitt looked in time to see the loading door to the trailer fall to the ground, with an even louder crash. Lisa whipped around and screamed something unintelligible. A deep rumble emanated from the entry. Lisa’s blue-grey eyes stared intensely at the trailer as a slender female slowly back down the ramp followed by a pack of giant longhaired shepherds.

:lol: I seen you working so hard on that tatto dureing school, Love the story so far.

3:30 Megan? Aren't we cutting it a little close to be on the computer yesterday.


P.S. Learn to spell.