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〃Neither do I。 I'm a scientist with NUMA now。〃
〃You're being disingenuous。 You have a reputation for bending the rules。 I know about your Special Assignments Team。 My office has press accounts of the NUMA team's role in the Andrea Doria conspiracy and the plot to take over the freshwater resources of the world。〃
〃We like to keep busy in our spare time。〃
〃Then keep busy with your ocean science。〃 Austin folded his arms over his chest。 〃Let me see if I understand this correctly； Ivan。 You want us to count fish while your madman goes on a terror spree in our country。〃
〃We have every intention of stopping Razov before it gets to that。 Your interference may already have spoiled any chance we have of containing him。 If you don't stay out； I will consider you an enemy of the Russian people and will act accordingly。〃
〃Thanks for the advice。〃 Austin glanced at his watch。 〃I hate to break off our reunion； but I'm late for dinner with a lovely young woman。 So if you're through。 。 。〃
〃Yes； I'm through。〃 Petrov barked an order in Russian。 The men guarding Austin pulled him to his feet and attempted to herd him toward the door。 He stood his ground and said； 〃Nice seeing you again； Ivan。 Sorry for past encounters。〃
〃What's past is past。 It's the future that we should both be concerned about。〃 Petrov's hand went to his scar。 〃You know； Mr。 Austin； you taught me a very valuable lesson。〃
Which is？〃
〃Know your enemy。〃
Austin was hustled down the dark hallway into the rickety elevator。 Minutes later； he was in the taxi。 The driver kept the car more or less under Mach I。 Before long； they pulled up at the exact point where he'd been kidnapped。
〃Out；〃 said the driver。
Austin was glad to ply。 He had to jump back to keep his toes from being crushed as the car sped off in a squeal of tires。 He watched the taillights vanish around a corner； then walked to the Argo's slip。 Back aboard the ship； he called the hotel where Kaela was staying。 When she didn't answer her room phone； he asked the desk if she'd left a message。
〃Yes； sir； there's a message from Ms。 Dorn；〃 the desk clerk said。
〃Would you read it to me； please。〃
〃Of course。 It says； 'Waited an hour。 Something more important must have e up。 Went to dinner with the boys。 Kaela。' 〃
Austin frowned。 The message said nothing about getting together at another time。 He would have to mend fences in the morning。 Meanwhile； he went out on the Argo's deck and paced from one end of the ship to the other； trying to remember every detail of the dialogue with Ivan。 As he walked； his lips tightened in determination。 Damned if he was going to ignore a threat to his country。 The best way to get Austin to do something was to tell him he couldn't do it。 He went back into his cabin and punched out a number on his cell phone。
FIVE THOUSAND MILES away； Josй 〃Joe〃 Zavala plucked the purring cell phone from the dashboard holder of his 1961 Corvette convertible and answered with a cheery hello。 Zavala had been thinking how all was right with the world。 He was young； 。healthy and on an undemanding work project that left him plenty of free time。 At his side was a lovely blond statistical analyst from the Department of merce。 They were driving along a country road in MacLean； Virginia； on their way to a candlelight dinner at a romantic old inn。 The warm air pleasantly tousled his thick black hair。 After dinner it would be back to the former district library building in Arlington； where he lived； for a nightcap。 Then； who knows？ The possibilities were endless。 This could be the start of a long relationship； long being a relative term in Zavala's world。
When he heard the voice of his friend and colleague； Zavala's reaction was a happy one。 A slight smile cracked the ends of his lips 〃Buona sera； Kurt； old amigo。 How's your vacation？〃
〃Over。 So is yours； I'm sorry to say。〃
Zavala's smile faded and a pained expression came onto his darkly handsome features； as Austin laid out his plans for Joe's immediate future。 With a mighty sigh； he replaced the phone； looked soulfully into the dreamy and pliant blue eyes of his date and said； 〃I'm afraid I've got bad news。 My grandmother just died。〃
WHILE ZAVALA TRIED to cushion his date's disappointment with an improvised list of outrageous promises； Paul Trout's six…foot…eight figure was bent like a praying mantis over a lab counter at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts； examining mud samples from the deepest parts of the Atlantic Ocean。 Although the work was potentially messy； Trout's white lab coat was spotless。 He wore one of his trademark bright bow ties； and his light brown hair was parted down the middle and bed back at the temples。
Trout grew up in Woods Hole； where his father was a Cape Cod fisherman； and he returned to his roots whenever he got the chance。 He had developed friendships with many of the scientists at the world…renowned institute and often lent them his skills as a deep…ocean geologist。
Trout's intense concentration was broken by the sound of his name being called。 Keeping his head lowered to the sample； he peered upward and saw a lab tech standing there。
〃Call just came in for you； Dr。 Trout；〃 she said； handing him a phone。 Trout's mind was still on the ocean bottom； and when he heard Austin's voice he assumed the head of the Special Assignments Team was at NUMA headquarters。
〃Kurt； are you already back home？〃
〃Actually； I'm calling from Istanbul； where you'll be in twenty…four hours。 I've got a job for you in the Black Sea。〃
Trout blinked his hazel eyes。 〃Istanbul。 The Black Sea？〃 His reaction was the plete opposite of Zavala's。 〃I've always wanted to work there。 My colleagues will be green with envy。〃
〃How soon can you leave？〃
〃I'm up to my ears in mud； but I can leave for Washington immediately。〃
There was silence at the other end of the line as Austin pictured Trout in a pool of muck。 Austin was used to Trout's Yankee eccentricities and decided he didn't want to know the details。 He simply said； 〃Could you pass this along to Gamay？〃
〃Finestkind； Cap；〃 Trout said； using an old fisherman's expression that spoke for itself。 〃See you tomorrow。〃
TWENTY FEET BELOW the surface of the water east of Marathon in the Florida Keys； Trout's wife； Gamay； was chiseling away with a dive knife at a big brain coral。 She broke off a small piece and put it in a mesh bag hanging from her weight belt。 Gamay had donated some of her working vacation as a marine biologist to a conservation group studying the deterioration of coral growth in the Keys。 The news wasn't good。 The coral was worse than the year before。 The growth that had not been killed outright by the poisonous run…off from south Florida was brown and discolored； totally unlike the vibrant colors to be found in the healthy reefs of the Caribbean and Red Sea。
A sharp rapping sound filled her ears。 Someone was signaling from the surface。 Tucking her knife back in its sheath； Gamay increased the air in her buoyancy pensator； and with a few flips of her fins； her tightly shaped body rose from the coral。 She surfaced near the chartered dive boat and blinked in the bright Florida sun。 The boat's skipper； a grizzled old 〃conch〃 named Bud； after the beer he favored； was holding a ball…peen hammer he'd used to tap on the metal stern ladder。
〃Harbormaster just called on the radio；〃 Bud yelled。 〃Says your husband was trying to get in touch with you。〃
Gamay swam to the ladder； handed up her tank and weight belt； then climbed aboard。 She wrung the seawater out of her dark red hair and wiped her face down with a towel。 She was tall； and slim for her height； and had she cared to get down to an unhealthy weight； she would have had the figure of a fashion model。 She dug the coral fragment from her bag and held it up for Bud to see。
He shook his head。 〃My dive business is going down the tubes if this keeps up。〃
The fisherman was right。 It was going to take a massive mitment from everyone； from the conchs to the Congress； to bring the reefs back to life。
〃Did my husband leave a message？〃 she asked。
〃Yeah； says to get in touch with him pronto。 That someone named Kurt called。 Guess your vacation is over。〃
She smiled； showing the slight space between her dazzling white front teeth； and tossed the piece of coral to Bud。 〃Guess it is；〃 she said。
…10…
WASHINGTON； D。C。
WASHINGTON SWELTERED UNDER a hot sun that bined with the humidity to transform the nation's capital into a giant steam bath。 The driver of the turquoise Jeep Cherokee shook his head in wonder at the brave clusters of tourists ignoring the wilting heat。 Noel Coward to the contrary； he thought； mad dogs and Englishmen weren't the only ones to go out in the midday sun。
Minutes later； the Jeep pulled up to the White House gate and the man at the wheel handed over a NUMA identification card with the name and photo of Admiral James Sandecker。 While one guard used a mirror on a pole to check underneath the vehicle for a bomb； the other returned the ill to the driver； a trim man with flaming red hair and a Vandyke beard。