“A guest scientist we had on board, a guy named Pulaski, pulled a gun on us and hijacked the NR-1. We were transported on the back of a giant submarine. This whole thing is so unbelievable.” He paused, expecting a skeptical reaction. Seeing none in Austin's attentive eyes, he continued. “They transferred the crew to a salvage ship. They made us work on an old sunken freighter. Tricky retrieval stuff using the manipulators. Then the big sub brought us here. They kept the captain and pilot with the NR-1. We were held prisoner underground. When they brought us up today, we thought we were going back to the NR-1. Instead they herded us onto that field. The guards who'd been watching us disappeared, and those cowboys with the fur hats started trying to break us up.” He rubbed his neck again. “Who are those SOBs?”

Zavala was signaling to Austin. “Sorry,” he said. “Our thirty seconds appears to be up.”

He went to the window, and Zavala handed him the binoculars. “The members of the polo club are having an argument,” he said lazily.

Austin peered through the binoculars at the Cossacks, who were still gathered in the field. Some riders had dismounted and were waving their arms in the air.

Lowering the glasses, Austin said, “They could be exchanging borscht recipes, but my guess is that they're adding our names to the guest list for a slice-and-dice party.”

Zavala looked as if he had a stomachache. “You have a way with words. How can we decline the invitation without hurting their feelings?”

Scratching his chin in thought, Austin said, “We've got a couple of options. We can run for the beach and swim out to sea, hoping our fur-hatted friends won't have settled their differences. Or we can hole up below.”

“I'm sure you see the same problems I do,” Zavala said. “If they catch us in the open, we're sitting ducks. If we go back down to the sub pen, we've only got dive gear for two people.” Austin nodded. “I suggest that we go with a double. You and the crew run for the beach. I'll stay here, and if the riders move in I'll draw them into the sub base, where they'll be at a disadvantage on foot. I'll escape the way we came. Like a fish slipping through a hole in a net.”

“Your chances would be better if we were watching each other's back.”

“Someone has to cover for the sub crew. They look pretty beat-up.”

Ensign Kreisman had edged closer. “Excuse me for eavesdropping. I went through SEAL training when I joined the navy. I washed out, but I still know the drill. I can take the men out of here.”