“It was more than luck,” Austin said. “I've been looking for you folks. You were supposed to rendezvous with the Argo this morning.”

“Sorry about that,” Lombardo said. “We took a detour to check out an old Russian submarine base that's supposed to be around here.”

“The captain of the Argo isn't too happy. You've delayed his departure schedule. It might have saved us some grief if you had let us know that your plans had changed.” Austin was smiling, but the gentle scolding tone of his voice was unmistakable.

“It's my fault,” Kaela said. “We thought we'd only be a few hours. We intended to call you at sea, but the fishing boat we hired didn't have a workable radio. The captain had to return to port for engine repairs, and he planned to get the radio fixed and give you a call.”

“That must be the fishing boat I saw steaming away from here.”

She nodded. “He was going to pick us up in the morning. Thank you for saving our lives. I apologize for putting you through so much trouble.”

“No trouble,” he said, reluctant to chastise the bedraggled group any further. He gazed at the wrecked aircraft. “Maybe a little trouble. What made your boat capsize?”

“Someone on shore shot at us and killed the Turkish man who was bringing us in,” Kaela said. “A wave caught us broadside and the boat went over. We hid under the Zodiac and tried to move it away from the beach, but the surf was too strong and we came almost straight in.” She glanced to- ward the dune where she had first seen the attackers. ”Do you know who those men on horseback were?"

Austin didn't reply. Although he seemed to be studying her face, Kaela became aware that her wet T-shirt and shorts clung to her lithe figure. She self-consciously plucked at the sand-caked front of the shirt, but the fabric insisted on plastering itself to her skin. Austin sensed her discomfiture and stared off at the smoke rising from the dune.

“My guess is that they weren't the local equestrian group out for a jaunt,” he said. “Let's take a look.”

He climbed up the sloping beach, with the others trailing tentatively behind. The fire had almost burned itself out. They walked through the charred stalks of grass at the top of the dune. Austin saw sunlight glinting off something on the ground and went over to investigate. It was a saber. He picked the weapon up and tested the heft and balance. The sword's long, curved blade was perfectly weighted to give the arm greater striking power. Austin's jaw muscles clenched as he contemplated the terrible damage the scalpel-sharp edge could inflict on human flesh. He was examining the Cyrillic writing etched into the blade when the Australian called out. Dundee was standing in a knee-high patch of unburned grass staring at something at his feet.

“What is it?” Austin said.

Unknown

“Dead guy.”