Then, quite suddenly, a grotesque face materialized on the other side of

the window, scant centimeters from Pitts eyes.

He unconsciously stepped back.  The sudden appearance of a woman with a

cut over one eye and blood flowing over half the features, all distorted

by the hairline cracks running through the window, startled Pitt

momentarily.

He quickly shook off the shock and studied the unblemished side of the

face.  The high cheekbones, the long dark hair, and one olive-brown eye

was enough to suggest a very beautiful woman, Pitt thought charitably.

He leaned close to the window and yelled, "Can you open an emergency

exit hatch?"

The plucked eyebrow raised a fraction, but the eye looked blank.

"Do you hear me?"

At that instant, Simon's men fired up the auxiliary power unit, and a

stand of floodlights flashed on, illuminating the aircraft in a glare as

bright as daylight.  They quickly connected the heater unit and Simon

began dragging the flexible hose across the ice.

"Over here, on the wing," Pitt waved.  "And bring something to cut

through a window."

The damage-control team had been trained for emergency ship repair, and

they went about their trade, competent and without wasted movement, as

if rescuing trapped passengers from a downed airplane was an everyday

exercise.

When Pitt turned back, the woman's face was gone.

Simon and one of his team scrambled up on the twisted wing, struggling

to keep their footing while tugging the widemouthed heater hose behind.

Pitt felt a blast of hot air and was amazed that the heating unit

required so little time to warm UP

"We'll need a fire ax to break through," said Pitt.

Simon feigned a haughty look.  "Give the U.S. Navy credit for a touch of

finesse.  We've advanced far beyond crude chopping methods." He removed

a compact battery-powered tool from his coat pocket.  He pushed the

switch and a small abrasive wheel on one end began to spin.  "Goes

through aluminum and Plexiglas like butter."

"Do your stuff," Pitt said dryly, moving back out of the way.

Simon was as good as his word; the little cutting device sliced through

the thick exterior window in less than two minutes.  The sheet inside

took only seconds.

Pitt hunched down  and  extended  his  arm  inside  and  beamed a

flashlight.  There was no sign of the woman.  The cold water of the

fjord glittered under the light's ray.  The water lapped at the edge of

empty, nearby seats.

Simon and Pitt inserted the end of the heater hose through the window

and then hurried around to the forward section of the aircraft.  The

navy men had reached under the water and released the latch to the main

exit door, but, as expected, it was jammed.  They rapidly drilled holes

and screwed in stainless-steel hooks which were attached to cables

leading to the snowmobile.

The driver engaged the clutch and the snowmobile slowly inched ahead