“Looks like we had a little forest fire down there,” Bear yelled over the drone of the engine. “You folks know anything about that?”

“Someone must have been careless with a match,” Mercer said. Seeing the skeptical expression in Bear's eyes, Mercer grinned and said, “When we get back, I'll tell you the whole story over a beer.”

It actually took quite a few beers.

Austin and Zavala, in the meantime, enjoyed their reunion with the Trouts and the leisurely cruise back to port on Throckmorton's re- search vessel. Throckmorton was still in a state of shock at the reve- lation of Barker's mad scheme, and he promised to testify before Senator Graham's Congressional committee once he had filled in Parliament about the dangers of genetically modified fish.

Back in Washington, Austin met with Sandecker to fill him in on the mission. The admiral listened to the story of Barker's demise with rapt attention, but he saved most of his fascination for Duren- dal. He held the sword gingerly in his hands.

Unlike many men of the sea, Sandecker was not superstitious, so Austin hiked an eyebrow when the admiral gazed at the shimmer- ing blade and murmured, “This weapon is haunted, Kurt. It seems to have a life of its own.”

“I had the same feeling,” Austin said. “When I first picked it up, an electric current seemed to flow from the hilt into my arm.”

Sandecker blinked as if he were coming out of a spell, and slid the sword back into its scabbard. “Superstitious rubbish, of course.”

“Of course. What do you suggest we do with it?”

“There's no question in my mind. We return it to its last rightful owner.”

“Roland is dead, and if the mummy I saw is Diego's, he won't be putting any claims on Durendal any time soon.”

“Let me think about it. Do you mind if I borrow the sword in the meantime?”

“Not at all, although I could use it to cut through the mounds of paperwork.”

Sandecker lit his cigar and tossed the match into his fireplace.

Flashing his familiar crocodile grin, he said, “I've always found fire to be much more effective in dealing with the effluent of our federal bureaucracy.”

Sandecker's summons came a couple of days later. The admiral's voice crackled over the phone. “Kurt, if you have a minute, could you please come up to my office. Round up Joe, too. There are some peo- ple here who want to see you.”

Austin tracked down Zavala in the deep-submergence design lab and gave him Sandecker's message. They arrived outside the admi- ral's office at the same time. The receptionist smiled and waved them through. Sandecker greeted them at the door and ushered them into the nerve center ofNUMA.

“Kurt. Joe. Good of you to come,” he said effusively, taking them by the arm.