Austin smiled at Sandecker's disingenuous welcome. One had lit- tie choice when Sandecker called. Those who arrived late or not at all suffered the full weight of the admiral's wrath.

Standing behind Sandecker were Balthazar Aguirrez and his two sons. Balthazar roared with pleasure when he saw Austin. He pumped Austin's hand and then Zavala's in his lobster grip.

“I asked Mr. Aguirrez and his sons to stop by so we could thank them for helping us in Canada,” Sandecker said. “I've been telling them about your mission.”

“We couldn't have done it without your help,” Austin said. “Sorry for the loss of your pilots and helicopter. And for Pablo's injury.”

Aguirrez waved his hand in dismissal. “Thank you, my friend. The helicopter was only a machine and can easily be replaced. As you can see, my son's wound is healing nicely. The death of the pilots was a shame, but like all the men on my boat, they were highly paid mer- cenaries and well aware of the dangers of their chosen profession.”

“Nonetheless, a tragic loss.”

“Agreed. I'm pleased with the success of your mission, but do you have any news of the sword and the horn?”

“It seems your relics had a long and arduous journey,” Sandecker said. “With the help of the log Kurt discovered in Barker's macabre museum, we've been able to piece the story together. Your ancestor, Diego, sailed across the Atlantic from the Faroe Islands. But he never reached land. He and his crew died, most likely from disease. The ship drifted into the polar ice. The zeppelin discovered the caravel hundreds of years later after a secret flight to the North Pole, and removed the body of your ancestor. Mechanical problems forced the airship down on the ice. The Kiolya found it, and re- moved the bodies of Diego and the zeppelin's captain, Heinrich Braun.”

“Kurt has told me this story,” Aguirrez said impatiently. “But what of the relics?”

Sandecker said, “Gentlemen, I'm being rude. Please sit down. I think it's time for some brandy.”

The admiral waved his guests to the comfortable leather chairs in front of his massive desk and went over to a bar hidden behind a wall panel. He brought back a bottle of B and B and poured each man a snifter of brandy. He stuck his nose in the wide-mouthed glass, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he unlocked his hu- midor and produced a handful of his specially rolled cigars. He passed the cigars around and patted the breast pocket of his navy blazer.

“I seem to have lost my cigar clipper. You gentlemen don't hap- pen to have a knife? Never mind.” He reached into the chair well of his desk, pulled out a scabbard and laid it on the desk. “Perhaps this will do.”