Gunn peppered them with questions after they finished their tale. He was particularly interested in Boris, the “mad monk,” and in Yuri's comment about the absence of the big drilling ships. Ataman's violent reaction was simple to explain. Razov had something to hide and didn't like people snooping around. But Boris and the missing drilling ships didn't fit into any equation he could formulate. He sat back in his seat, adjusted the horn-rimmed glasses on his hawkish nose and tented his fingers, much as Sherlock Holmes would have looked, absorbed by a puzzle. All he needed to complete the picture was a pipe and a deerstalker's cap.

The pilot's voice broke Gunn's concentration. “We're coming up on the Argo, folks. If you look off to the right, you'll see the ship.”

The Argo had switched on every light in greeting and looked look like a giant floating Christmas tree against the inky darkness of the sea. The helicopter hovered over the ship and slowly descended onto the large, blinking X that marked the landing pad. The touchdown was nearly perfect, marked by a slight thump of the wheels on the deck. The rotors spun to a stop, and the copilot came back to open the door. The passengers thanked the crew for a smooth flight and descended the boarding steps, eyes blinking against the brilliant floodlights that turned the night into day.

Austin's broad shoulders and pale hair were easy to spot among the crowd that had gathered to greet the arrivals. He strode over, shook hands with Gunn and put his arms around the Trouts.

“Hope you had time for your martinis,” Austin said.

Gamay smiled and pecked his cheek. “We squeezed in two drinks apiece, thank you.”

“Sorry to drag you out here so soon after your Novorossiysk trip.” He guided them to the mess hall and brought them three tinkling glasses of fresh-squeezed lemonade. “Joe's baby-sitting the crew in the conference room. We're meeting with them in fifteen minutes to hear their story. The crew is anxious to get home, and I've asked them to give us an hour while the chopper fuels up.”

Gunn puckered his lips in amusement as Austin filled them in on the crew's rescue. “I don't mean to demean the dangers you described, Kurt, but it sounds like a Pink Panther movie, with all those people running around.”

“I was thinking more of the Keystone Kops,” Austin said. “Someday I'll look back and chuckle over the whole crazy episode.” He brushed his head lightly with his fingers. “But if my hair could have gotten any whiter, it would have.”

“I'm intrigued by this Russian you call Ivan,” Gunn said. “How do you know him?”

“Our paths crossed when I was working for the CIA.”

“Is he a friend or foe?”