The last thing Austin wanted was to have Ben bolt from the plane in fright. “Joe likes to kid around,” he said.

“I wasn't worried about that, it's-well, is this all there is? I mean just?”

Zavala's lips turned up in a smile. “We hear a lot of that sort of thing,” he said, recalling Becker's skepticism when he and Austin had

arrived to rescue the Danish sailors. “I'm starting to get an inferior- ity complex.”

“This isn't a suicide squadron,” Austin said. “We'll pick up some extra muscle on the way. In the meantime, make yourself comfort- able. There's coffee in that carafe. I'll assist Joe in the cockpit.”

They were quickly cleared for takeoff, and the plane headed north. At a cruising speed of five hundred miles an hour, they were over the waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence in a little over three hours. They touched down at a small coastal airport. Rudi Gunn had checked earlier and found that there was a NUMA survey ship working in the gulf. The way had been smooth through Canadian customs, and before long Austin, Zavala and Ben were climbing aboard the ship, which had come into port. By previous arrangement, the Navarra was waiting ten miles offshore.

As they approached the yacht, Zavala eyed the long, sleek vessel with appreciation. “Pretty,” he said. “And from her lines, I'd say she's fast, too, but she doesn't look tough enough to take on Oceanus.”

“Wait,” Austin said, with a knowing smile.

The Navarra sent over a launch to pick them up. Aguirrez was waiting on deck, his black beret, as usual, perched at a jaunty angle on his head. By his side were the two brawny men who had escorted

Austin after he was plucked from the waters outside the Mermaid's Gate.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Austin,” Aguirrez said, pumping Kurt's hand. “Glad you and your friends could make it aboard. These are my two sons, Diego and Pablo.”

It was the first time Austin had seen the two men smile, and he noted the resemblance to their father. He introduced Zavala and Nighthawk. The yacht was already underway by that time, and he and the others followed Aguirrez to his grand salon. Aguirrez mo- tioned for the men to take a seat, and a steward appeared with hot drinks and sandwiches. Aguirrez asked them about their trip and waited patiently for them to finish their lunch before he picked up a remote control. At a click of a button, a section of wall slid up to re- veal a giant screen. Another click, and an aerial photograph filled the space. The photograph showed forest and water.

Nighthawk sucked in his breath. “That's my lake, and my vil- lage.”

“I used the coordinates Mr. Austin gave me and fed them into a commercial satellite,” Aguirrez said. “I'm puzzled, however. As you can see, there is no sign of this airship building that you mentioned.”