Austin's mind was already racing toward the task ahead. “Thank you very much for telling us your story,” Kurt said, rising. “And for lunch, too.”

“Wait,” Clarence said. He perused the wooden figures he'd carved, picked out two, and gave one to each of the NUMA men. “Take these. The bear for strength and the wolf for cunning.” Austin and Zavala thanked the old man for his generosity.

“Makes me feel better to give you some luck after telling you how to get to that place. You go back to that old base, I got the feeling you're going to need it.”

NUMA 2 - Blue Gold

CHAPTER 30

The Sun's blinding reflection on the mirrored surface of the water had prevented a good look at the Eagle's Beak on the first pass. Only a thin, ragged crescent of tundra could be seen, part of an inundated coastal plain ex tending into a pear-shaped bay. Zavala angled the plane so that the dark outline of General MacArthur's nose was visible under the translucent covering of water. Austin gave Zavala the thumbs up. This is it. The thumb pointed down. Land.

Zavala brought the plane around in a low sweep and flew the length of the peninsula at an altitude of about two hundred feet. The crooked finger of land was more than a mile long and less than half as wide. Blackwater marsh had encroached on its borders and added to the ravages of wind and ice that had distorted its original shape.

“See how close you can get us to those moraines,” Austin said, pointing to the low, glacier-carved mounds that began where the peninsula joined the mainland.

Zavala tapped the brim of his NUMA baseball cap. “No sweat. This baby can land on the head of a pin. Stand by for a picture-perfect landing.”

Austin had every bit of confidence in his partner's flying ability. Zavala had logged hundreds of hours flying every conceivable type of aircraft. There were times, though, when he had visions of Snoopy pretending his doghouse was a World War I Sopwith Camel. He pushed the thought out of his mind as Zavala circled the strip again, dropped into a long glide, and reduced speed until the plane's floats skimmed the shallow water.

The plane was about to set down smoothly when they heard a loud thump under their feet followed by the tortured sound of metal tearing. The plane snapped around like an amusement park ride. The two men were flung against their seatbelts like rag dolls. The spinning plane came to rest at a drunken angle. Zavala had the wind knocked out of him but managed to kill the engine.

As the propeller spun to a stop Austin felt his head to make sure it was still attached to his shoulders. “If that was picture perfect, I'd hate to see a rough landing. What happened to the head of a pin?”

Zavala adjusted his baseball cap and straightened his reflecting sunglasses on his nose. “Sorry,” he said with uncharacteristic humbleness. “They must be making pins bigger than they used to.”