A lonely full moon shone its pale light on La Perouse Strait, north of Hokkaido Island, Japan... and the sole three masted barque cutting through its cold waters. Pulling his black three-cornered hat down over his ears, and pulling his burgundy sash tighter to secure his blue longcoat, the captain peered over the bow. "So how far behind them are we?"
"Fifty leagues, cap'n," the navigator replied. "The northbound currents should slow them down somewhat."
The captain shook his head. "Not enough."
"You realize that if we go after them now, sir," the navigator offered, "the Coast Guard will be all over us like flies on a three day old fish."
"Not if we take speed, surprise, and the dark of night, and play them to the hilt."
"Sir, a modest proposal. We could lay low, be silent, and tail them until they get through the Korean Strait. And once we're both past Cheju Do--"
"--then they'll be within the jurisdiction of the Chinese