FOLLOWING IN THE wake of the original Argo, the NUMA ship steamed across the Black Sea toward the Bosporus, the narrow strait that separated the Asian and European sides of Istanbul. Unlike Jason, who brought home the Golden Fleece, all that Austin had to show for his labors was a head laceration, a bedraggled television crew and a pile of unanswered questions.

The evacuation from the Russian beach had gone off without a hitch. Captain Atwood had sent a boat in to transport Austin and the television people to the Argo. Moving the Gooney was less trouble than anticipated; it was mostly a case of picking up the pieces. Austin didn't look forward to telling Zavala that the nifty little plane he'd designed could practically fit into a shoe box.

On the final run to the beach, Austin had spotted something floating in the water. It was the body of the Turkish helmsman, Mehmet. They'd hauled the body onto the tender and brought it back to the ship. The pitiful sight reminded Austin of the deadly game he'd been playing. One wrong roll of the dice and it would have been his body pulled from the water and wrapped in a tarpaulin.

Austin checked in with the ship's paramedic to have his cut treated, then showered and changed. He had suggested to Kaela that she meet him for dinner in the mess hall after she had a chance to rest. Austin snagged a table next to a big window that looked out over the stern deck. He was gazing out at the ship's foamy wake, trying to make sense of the skirmish on the beach, when Kaela made her entrance.

The reporter wore jeans and a faded blue chambray shirt borrowed from a female oceanographer whose figure must have been shorter and wider. What would have been practical but ill-fitting work clothes on another woman achieved an elegant sophistication draped over Kaela' s slim physique. As she entered the mess, she could have been strolling down a Paris runway wearing the latest in avant-garde fashion.

She smiled at Austin and came over to the table. “Something smells good.”

“You're in luck. The chef has decided on an Italian theme. Have a seat.”

She sat down and closed her eyes. “Don't tell me.” She inhaled the aromas coming from the galley. “An antipasto of truffle salad and olivi mushrooms followed by a porcini risotto.”

“Not quite.” Austin cleared his throat. “We're having pizza. Mushroom, or pepperoni if you'd prefer carne.”

Kaela opened her eyes and stared at Austin. “What happened to the four-star chef?”

Austin tried his best to look angelic, but his rugged features wouldn't cooperate. “I confess. I exaggerated. My intentions were entirely honorable. Your spirits needed a lift back there on the beach.”

“And you looked like you'd pushed your face through a plate-glass window. Glad to see you're in better shape.”

“Amazing the miracles that can be performed with a needle, sutures and swabs.”