At a word from Barker, a guard went over to a cooler and ex- tracted a frozen cod around two feet long. He slid back the plastic lid covering one of the tanks and tossed the carcass into the water. Within seconds, the cod disappeared in a bloody froth.

“I've made dinner reservations for you,” Barker said.

“No thanks, we've already eaten,” Austin said.

Barker studied the faces of the two men, but saw no sign of fear, only defiance. He frowned and said, “I'll give you and your partner time to think about your fate, to imagine what it feels like to be torn apart by razor-sharp teeth and scattered over the ocean. Our men will come for you shortly after we stop at our facility on the coast to re- fuel. Adieu, gentlemen.”

Barker's men grabbed Austin and Zavala and hustled them down a corridor leading to a storage room. They were shoved inside, and the door was locked behind them.

Austin tried the lock, then found a seat on a pile of cardboard boxes.

“You don't seem very worried about being fed to the fishes,” Zavala said.

“I have no intention of providing entertainment for that white- eyed freak and his cretinous henchmen. By the way, I liked your comment about Kiolyan women.”

“It went against my grain. As you know, I love women of any kind. They have a lot to put up with, with their menfolk running around killing and sacrificing people. So, Mr. Houdini, how do we escape this little mess?”

“I guess we bust our way out of here.”

“Uh-huh. And assuming we can get beyond that door, what chance do the two of us have against a battalion of armed men?”

“There are three of us, actually.”

Zavala looked around. “An invisible friend, no doubt.” Austin peeled out of his coat and drew the sword from its scab- bard. Even in the faint light inside the storage room, the blade seemed to glow. "This is my friend-Durendal7'

NUMA 4 - White Death

38

THE CATAMARAN CAME in like a marine landing craft, and the twin hulls slid partway onto the shore with a shriek of fiber' glass against gravel. The boat had no sooner come to a grinding halt than the people on board started to pile off. Ben Nighthawk was the first to hit the ground, followed by the Basques and the SOS crew. They helped the villagers climb down, and the group headed inland. Only Ben and Diego stayed behind.

Jesse Nighthawk turned and saw his son lingering on the beach. He shooed the other villagers into the woods and walked back to where Ben was standing.

“Why aren't you coming?” the old man said.

“Go on without me,” Ben replied. “I've been talking to Diego. We have work to do.”

“What do you mean? What sort of work?”