She touched the screen, and two photos appeared. One of the photos, taken by a surveillance camera, showed Austin and Zavala in the reception area of the tortilla plant. The other picture was an enlarged shot of the two men standing on the deck of the Sea Robin off Ensenada. Brynhild's eye went from the wide-shouldered man with the silver-white hair for a moment, then shifted to the handsome dark-haired man.

“Do you know who these men are?”

The brothers shrugged.

“That's Kurt Austin, head of NUMA's Special Assignments Team, and Jose Zavala, a member of the team.”

“When can we...”

“... eliminate them?”

The temperature in the cool room seemed to drop another twenty degrees.

“If they were responsible for the destruction of the Baja facility, they will pay with their lives,” Brynhild said. “But not now. There's a minor problem to be taken care of.” She gave them the name of the newspaper editor and said, “That's all. You can go.”

The brothers hastened from the room like a pair of dogs sent to fetch a bone, and Brynhild was alone again. She sat there brooding about the Baja facility. All that work wasted. Even worse, the supply of the catalyst was destroyed in the blast. She stared with hate-filled eyes at the faces of the two men on the computer monitor. “Little people,” she snarled. With a wave of her hand the screen went blank.

NUMA 2 - Blue Gold

CHAPTER 17

Paul Trout turned the shower off and again examined its workings with scientific admiration. Water flowed through a wooden pipe and sprayed out through tiny holes in the hardened shell of a hollowed-out gourd. A simple wooden valve controlled the flow. The water disappeared through a drain hole in the hardwood floor. He stepped from the wooden stall, dried himself with a cotton towel, wrapped his body in another, and went through a doorway into an adjacent room lit by clay lamps.

Gamay was stretched out on a comfortable grass-filled mat tress placed on a platform bed. She had fashioned her towel into a toga, had combed and braided her dark red hair, and was sampling fruit from a large bowl like a woman of ancient Rome. She eyed Paul, whose towel looked ridiculously small on his tall figure. “What do you think of all this, nature boy?”

“I've seen worse plumbing back in the so-called civilized world.”

“Did you know a civilization can be measured by the sophistication of its plumbing?”

“I can't say much for the uncivilized habit the locals have of sticking heads on sharpened poles, but this whole village is a miracle. Look at the workmanship in these walls,” he said, running his fingers over the white plastered surface. “I've got a million questions. Any word from our hostess?”

“She sent Tessa by and said she would see us after we've had a chance to rest. Talk about pulling a rabbit out a hat. I thought the Chulo grabbed Dieter's wife.”