“It's not the best I can do, Monsieur Drouet. We're going to try to bring them back alive, but we'll need your help.”

“You're not serious! Those poor people are trapped under eight hundred feet of ice.” He studied the silent determination in Austin's face and arched an eyebrow. “Very well. I'll knock heads together to get you anything you need. Tell me what I must do.”

Austin was pleasantly surprised to learn that Drouet's plump exterior hid a layer of steel.

“Thank you for your offer. First, I'd like to borrow your helicopter and pilot.”

“Yes, of course, but I see your friend has a helicopter.”

“I'll need a bigger one.”

“I don't understand. These unfortunate people are trapped in the ground, not the air.”

“Nevertheless.” Austin gave Drouet a hard look that said he was through wasting time.

Drouet nodded vigorously. “Very well. You have my full cooperation.”

While Drouet scurried over to talk to his pilot, Austin called the NUMA vessel's captain on a hand radio and spent several minutes sketching out his plan. Fortier listened carefully.

“I'll get right on it,” he said. Austin thanked him and gazed at the glacier, sizing up the adversary he was about to tackle. He had no room in his scheme of things for self-doubt. He knew plans could go awry, and had scars all over his body to prove it. He also knew that problems could be fixed. He was certain that, with luck, his scheme would work. What he wasn't sure of was whether Skye was still alive.

SKYE WAS VERY much alive. Renaud, who was feeling the full force of her fury, could attest to that. After Renaud had made one of his self-serving comments, Skye had snapped. She had laced into the hapless Frenchman, her eyes bright with tears of rage as she tongue-lashed him for ruining the biggest discovery of her career. Renaud finally summoned up the courage to croak a protest. Skye had exhausted her repertoire and lung power by then and cut him short with a withering glare and a well-chosen word.

“Idiot!”

Renaud tried to play on her sympathy. “Can't you see I'm injured?” He held his bruised and lacerated hand.

“It's your own stupid fault,” she said coldly. “How in God's name could you allow a man with a gun to come into this place?”

“I thought he was a reporter.”

“You have the brain of an amoeba. Amoebas don't think. They ooze.”

“Mademoiselle, please,” LeBlanc entreated. “We have only so much air to breathe. Save your strength.”

“Save it for what}” She pointed to the ceiling. “It may have escaped your attention, but we are stuck under a very large glacier.”

LeBlanc put his finger to his lips.

Skye glanced around at the cold and frightened faces and saw she was making the others even more miserable. She realized, too, that her tirade against Renaud was a product of her fear and frustration. She apologized to LeBlanc and clamped her lips tightly together, but before she did so, she muttered, “He is an idiot.”