“Did you see any planes?”

“Sure, lots coming and going. Once I was hunting and I heard one that sounded like a hundred rushing rivers. Big as this whole village and crazy shape.”

“What kind of shape?”

He went to the wall and took down a harpoon. Touching the sharp metal point with his finger, he said, “Something like this.”

Austin's gaze was unwavering. “How long did you hunt game for these men?”

“'Bout six months, I think. One day they showed up, said they didn't need any more. They told me to stay away from the airfield. Didn't want me to step on a mine. Said I could keep the rifle. They left in a big hurry.”

Zavala said, “We've been looking for an old airfield supposed to be on a piece of land that looked like an eagle's nose, but we can't find it.”

“Oh, sure, this place used to be like that. Things have changed from ice and wind. In the summer the water comes in from rivers and floods the land. Doesn't look the same as it did back then. You got a map?”

Kurt pulled the map from his jacket and unfolded it.

Grandpa Tinook's thick finger came down on a section of coast under the pencil shading. “Right here,” he said.

“We must have flown right over it,” Zavala said.

“Tell me,” Austin said, “those men, did they give you their names?”

“Sure, Hewy and Dewy, they said.”

Zavala chuckled. “I suppose Lewy was busy.”

The old man shrugged. “I read Donald Duck when I shipped out on merchant ships out of Anchorage. They figured I musta ate whale blubber all my life. I let them think that.”

“It was probably a good thing that you did.”

“Like I said, they were hard men, although we became pretty good friends. I went back to the old base after the war. I think they just said that about the mines to scare me off. Felt like something had been poisoned and left to rot.” He paused thoughtfully. “Maybe you can tell me. One thing I always wondered. What was the big secret? We weren't fighting the Japanese. The war was over.”

“Some men can't live without war,” Austin replied. “If they don't have one they find another.”

“Sounds crazy to me, but what do I know? Well, that was years ago. Why do you men want to go to that old place?”

For once Austin was at a loss for words. He could have said how important it was to find an odd substance named anasazium before Gogstad got its hands on it and made worldwide mischief. But he suspected his real reasons were more visceral. The story of Buzz Martin's father had smoldered in him and offended his sense of right and wrong.

The best answer he could muster was, “There was a boy once who went to his father's funeral, only his father wasn't dead.”

The old man nodded solemnly as if Austin had been the soul of clarity.