“We brought two large bags aboard. Could you see that they are brought aft for us?”

“I'll give the order right away.”

“One more thing,” Austin said as they rose.

These Americans seemed to have an endless list of requirements. “Yes?” he said gruffly.

“Don't put that bottle away,” Austin said with a grin. “We will want it to toast Ms. Janos's safe return.”

The captain's frown turned to a broad grin. He gave Austin and Zavala several bone-cracking back thumps and led the way to the main deck. He rounded up a couple of crewmen, who carried the large bags to an area behind the superstructure.

After the captain left to attend to his duties, the crewmen watched in fascination as Austin and Zavala pulled a circular metal framework from the bags.

The aluminum-tubing backpack unit enclosed a compact, two-stroke engine, a 2.5-gallon fuel tank and a four-blade propeller. They attached the framework to a narrow seat. Then they attached lines from the framework to a canopy made of ripstop nylon, which they spread out on the deck. In a short time, they had assembled the Adventure X-Presso, a French-made paraglider.

Zavala, who had piloted a wide range of aircraft, cast a skeptical eye at the paraglider.

“That thing looks like a marriage between an electric fan and a barber's chair.”

“Sorry,” Austin said. “I couldn't fit an Apache helicopter into the carry-on.”

Zavala shook his head. “We'd better pull our gear together.”

Their other luggage had been stowed in a cabin. Austin pulled a holster out of his duffel, checked the load in his Bowen revolver and stuffed extra ammunition into a fanny pack. For this mission Zavala had chosen a Heckler & Koch .45 model that was developed for the army Special Forces. They carried a GPS, compass, portable radios, a first-aid kit and other emergency items. They wore inflatable flotation belts instead of bulky life vests, and dressed for the damp weather with waterproof outer layers over wool.

A crewman knocked on the door and relayed the captain's invitation to come to the bridge. When they entered the pilothouse, Ivanov beckoned them over to a radar screen and pointed to an elongated blip on the monitor.

“This is Ivory Island. We're about ten kilometers from landfall. How close do you want to go?”

There was a slight haze rising from the ice-flecked green water. The sky was overcast. Visibility was less than a mile. “Have someone keep watch through binoculars,” Austin said. “When he sees the island, drop anchor.”

The captain spread out a chart. “The main harbor is on the south side of the island. There are many smaller coves and inlets around the perimeter.”

After conferring with Zavala, Austin decided to explore the expedition headquarters, then follow the river inland.

“We have enough fuel for roughly two hours in the air, so we'll have to keep our search itinerary tight,” Austin said.