“It will take more than NUMA and your government to stop me,” Razov said. “When I'm through bringing Russia back to its former glory, the U.S. will be like a puking, mewling child, a world beggar, its resources depleted, its leadership weak and confused - ” Razov saw that he had gone too far and stopped suddenly. “You're no longer welcome aboard my yacht, Mr. Austin. My security men will escort you to the launch.”

“I can find my way. 'Til we meet the next time, Mr. Razov.” He started to walk away.

Razov's lips parted in a feral grin. “There isn't going to be a next time.”

Razov made a subtle gesture, and his guards started to follow. Austin let out a low whistle. The wolfhounds perked up their ears and, with tails wagging, broke away from Razov, trailing their useless leashes. Austin grinned and looked Razov straight in the eye. The Russian stared at Austin with a look of pure hate. Austin turned and walked quickly toward the stern of the boat, merging with the crowd with the dogs at his heel. He realized that he had to lose the hounds. They were too conspicuous and would call attention to him.

He stopped and patted the dogs on their heads, then handed their leashes to a startled young woman wearing a maroon blazer. He whipped his wig and sunglasses off and tucked them in the woman's pocket.

“Would you return these to Mr. Razov, please? With my compliments.”

Walking quickly, he made his way past the salon entrance and slipped through the crowd, almost bowling Kaela over.

“What's the big hurry?” she said.

“Get off the yacht as soon as you can,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“Don't know. See you at the Ritz Bar in about an hour.” Austin pecked Kaela's cheek and headed toward the stairs that would take him to the launch deck. He hoped to catch a ride on a launch, but abandoned that course. Two guards flanked the stairway, their eyes scanning the crowd. Austin had assumed, wrongly, that Razov wouldn't risk an incident with all the people around. But Razov had spilled more than he'd intended and was willing to take the risk. Pushing his way back through the crowd, Austin was trying to gain a few minutes while he figured out an alternative escape route, when someone grabbed his arm.

Austin whirled and tensed his body into a combat stance. Petrov released his grip. The Russian was smiling, but his eyes were deadly serious.