“Being a white goddess isn't all it's cracked up to be,” Paul said.

“An understatement. Which is why I'm so happy you dropped out of the sky. Tonight you rest. Tomorrow I will give you a tour of the village, and we will start planning.”

“Planning for what?” Gamay said.

“Sorry, I thought that was obvious. Planning to escape.”

NUMA 2 - Blue Gold

CHAPTER 18

Austin had a quick breakfast of ham and scrambled eggs on the deck of his boathouse below the Potomac palisades in Fair fax, Virginia. He stared longingly at the slow-moving river, thinking that a brisk row in his scull would be far preferable to morning traffic on the Beltway. But the events of the last few days gnawed at him. Having narrowly missed being killed twice had injected a personal note into the case.

Driving a turquoise NUM A-issue Jeep Cherokee, Austin headed south and then east across the Woodwork Wilson Memorial Bridge into Maryland, where he left the Beltway. In suburban Sultan he pulled off the road at a complex of metal buildings so boringly nondescript that they could only have been built by the federal government.

A docent in the visitor center took his name and made a call. Minutes later a trim middle-aged man arrived carrying a clip board. He wore paint-splattered jeans, a denim work shirt, and a baseball cap with the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum logo. He gave Austin a firm handshake and introduced himself.

“I'm Fred Miller. We talked on the phone,” he said.

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

“No problem.” Miller raised a quizzical brow. “Are you the same Kurt Austin who found the Christopher Columbus tomb in Guatemala?”

“That's me.”

“That must have been some adventure.”

“It had its moments.”

“I'll bet. I have to apologize. Aside from what I read in the papers of NUMA's undersea exploits, I don't know a lot about your agency.”

“Maybe we can both learn something about our respective work. I don't know much about the Paul E. Grabber Preservation, Restoration, and Storage Facility. Your Web site says you restore historical and vintage airlines.”

“That's only the tip of the iceberg,” Miller said, showing the way to the door. “C'mon, I'll give you a tour.”

He led Austin outside and continued his narrative as they walked past a row of identical buildings, all with low roofs and big sliding doors. “Paul Grabber was a plane nut, which was fortunate for us. When he was just a kid he saw Irvine Right fly the world's first military aircraft. Later he worked for the Smithsonian and was instrumental in creating the National Air Museum. The Air Force and Navy had collected examples of the planes that won World War II and some of the enemy planes they beat. They wanted to get rid of them. Grabber did an aerial survey and found twenty-one acres owned by the federal government out here in the sticks. There are thirty-two buildings at the center.” They stopped in front of one of the larger structures. “This is Building Ten, the workshop where we do the restorations.”