Austin put the glider into a lazy spiral into the crater and looked for a good landing site.

“What's that down there?” Zavala pointed to the base of the slope where the road ended. “Looks like a herd of cows.”

Austin squinted through the lens of his goggles. “Too furry to be cows. Maybe they're yaks.”

“I could use a few yaks after all we've been through.”

Austin cringed at the pun, but his mental pain was short-lived. Zavala called his attention to another section of the green area.

“I'll be damned,” Austin said. “People!”

The group stood near the edge of the boulder field. As the paraglider drifted lower, Austin saw someone club another person to the ground. A third figure rushed to the aid of the fallen figure but was jerked away. The paraglider was low enough for Austin to see a flash of blond hair.

“I think we just found Karla Janos,” Austin said.

GRISHA'S THIN LIPS were peeled back in a grin that revealed his bad teeth. He spoke in Russian, and his murderous cohorts appeared from behind the rocks where they had been hiding.

Schroeder quickly sized up the situation. While he and Karla pursued a zigzag path through the city, Grisha and his men could have come straight through the central boulevard and stumbled on the way out.

Grisha motioned for his prisoners to go back the way they had come. As the Russians and their captives broke out of the rocks into the open, Grisha saw the woolly mammoths.

“What are those?” he said. “Sheep?”

“No,” Schroeder said. “They're butterflies.”

He was unprepared for the fury of Grisha's response. The Russian didn't like being humiliated in front of his men. He let out a feral snarl, raised his gun like a club and slashed Schroeder across the face with the barrel. As Schroeder crumpled to the ground, the last thing he heard was Karla's scream.

ZAVALA HAD been watching the drama unfold below. “Looks like she's in bad company. How do you want to handle this? Hawk on a mouse or OK Corral?”

Zavala was asking Austin whether they should make a stealth approach or go in with guns blazing.

“How about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?”

“That's a new one, but anything works for me.”

“Hand me your gun and take over the controls. We'll come in from behind. The sun will be in their eyes.”

“Wyatt Earp could have used one of these rigs against the Clanton boys.”

“As I recall, he did pretty well without it.”

Zavala slipped his Heckler & Koch from its holster. Handling the weapon with great care, he passed it to Austin, and placed his hands on the controls. They were descending rapidly. Austin positioned himself like a gunfighter, with a weapon in each hand.