“Now you look like Quasimodo,”

“That hair of yours isn't exactly inconspicuous. Let's hope anyone we meet is legally blind. What's next?”

Austin plucked a cap from a pile, tossed it to Trout and jammed another on his head, He pulled the visor down over his head and said: “We go for a stroll.”

NUMA 3 - Fire Ice

-29-

AUSTIN STOPPED AT an intersection and glanced up and down the corridors like a bewildered tourist. “Damn,” he said. “I think we're lost.”

“We should have left a trail of bread crumbs,” Trout said wistfully.

“This isn't exactly a gingerbread house and we're not Hansel and - whoops.” Austin jerked his thumb at a door off to the left. His ear had picked up the click of a knob turning.

Trout stepped back, but Austin grabbed his arm. “Too late,” he whispered. “Look as if we belong here.” He bent his head over a clipboard he'd liberated from the divers' room and kept one hand close to the gun concealed under his uniform. Trout got down on one knee, untied his shoelace and began to tie it.

The door opened, and two men carne out. Austin glanced up from his clipboard, gave them a friendly smile and checked them out for weapons. The men differed from each other in physique, but both wore glasses and their faces had a studious look. They were deep in conversation and only glanced at the NUMA men before they disappeared down a corridor.

Austin watched them go and said, “You can stand now. Those two looked like techies. We've got a major problem. It could take days to search this ship properly. The longer we're here, the greater the chance someone will see through our highly imaginative disguises.”

Trout stood and rubbed his knee. "To say nothing of the toll to be exerted on my aging joints. What do we do now?”

Austin stared off past Trout's shoulder, and a smile replaced the frown on his lips. “For starters, I'd suggest that you look behind you.”

Trout grinned when he saw the diagram on the wall. It was a map showing the ship's layout as seen from above and in profile. “We're apparently not the only ones who need help finding their way around this little houseboat.”

Austin examined the map closely and tapped a red dot that indicated their intersection. “We're coming up on a restricted area. Let's see what they're trying to hide. If it's restricted, there may be less chance of bumping into Razov's thug brigade.”