She was in an enormous chamber bigger than a football field. She could trace its outline by the torches lining the walls of the cavernous space. In the center of the room, illuminated by four tall braziers, was a ship, its one square sail unfurled, that looked like the twin of the vessel carved on the doors.

Before becoming a marine biologist Gamay had been a nautical archaeologist, and she knew immediately that it was a Viking ship or a very good replica of one. She wondered if she were in a museum. No, she decided, it was more like an elaborate crypt. Maybe the ship served as a sepulcher as was the custom of the Norsemen. Partly out of curiosity, but mostly because there was no alternative, she began to walk toward the vessel.

As she made her lonely way across the great hall two pairs of red-rimmed eyes observed her progress from the shadows. The same eyes had hungrily watched her earlier on a TV monitor as she languished in her cell. The Kradzik twins had spent hours in front of the screen. They had taken in her every physical feature, from the distinctive dark red hair to the long, slim legs. There was nothing sexual in their voyeurism; that would have been too natural. Their interest was purely in inflicting pain. They were like a dog trained to balance a treat on its nose until the owner gives the okay to swallow. With Gamay enticingly within their reach, their sadistic urges surfaced. Gamay and the other woman had been promised to them. With Brynhild busy in the lab, they decided to claim their toy.

They ordered Gamay brought to the Great Hall. The guards obeyed with some reluctance. The small army that protected Gogstad and occasionally projected its reach, as in Alaska, were all ex-military men, plucked from elite services around the world. In their ranks were former French Legionnaires, U.S. Special Forces, SEALs, Red Army infantry, British paratroopers, and other assorted mercenaries. It was jokingly said in their barracks that a dishonorable discharge was a minimum requirement to work for Gogstad, and jail time was worth a bonus. They would shoot to kill on order, but they considered themselves professionals simply doing their job. The Kradziks were different. Everybody knew the stories of massacre and murder in Bosnia, and there were rumors of their special assignments for Gogstad. The men also knew of their close ties to Brynhild. When they were ordered to deliver the prisoner, they did so without argument.

Gamay was halfway to the ship when she heard the unmistakable sound of motors starting up. The staccato snarl was made even more intense as it echoed off the hard stone walls. Single headlights appeared to the right and left of the ship and began to move slowly in her direction.

Motorcycles.

She could see the silhouettes of the riders. Gamay felt like a deer caught crossing a highway. Then the motors revved up to a high-pitched whine, and the motorcycles came at her like twin rockets.