'Don't make a sound, or I'll snap your neck,' he growled, then dragged his catch back behind the pipe. 'Meet our new guide,' he said.
Zavala stared at the technician. 'We've already met.'
Austin spun the technician around. Francesca. The terror in her face turned to relief. 'What are you doing here?'
The pleasure at seeing Francesca overcame Austin's surprise. 'We had a date, remember?' he said with a grin. 'Time and place to be announced.'
Francesca smiled through her nervousness. Calmer now, she glanced around and said, 'We can't stay here. Follow me.'
They wound their way through the labyrinth into a small room furnished with a plain plastic desk and chair. 'I asked for this space so I could work quietly. We'll be safe for a few minutes. If anyone comes, pretend you know what you're doing.' She shook her head in wonder. 'How in God's name did you get in here?'
'We took the bus,' Austin said. 'Where's Gamay?'
'This is the desalting facility. She's in the main compound. They have her in a heavily guarded cell on the first level.'
'How do we get there?'
'I'll show you. There's an elevator that takes you from the lab. It goes to a tram. The car goes through a tunnel to the main compound. Then an elevator will take you up to her level. Do you think you can rescue her?'
'We won't know until we try,' Zavala said with a slight smile.
'It will be very dangerous. You may have a chance, though. The guards are preoccupied. There's some kind of meeting planned. You must move quickly before people start coming here.'
'What kind of meeting?' Zavala asked.
'I don't know, only that it's extremely important. I have to have this facility up and working by then, or they'll kill Gamay.'
She glanced out of the office to see if the coast was clear. Then she led them to the elevator. Austin thought that she looked exhausted. There were black circles under her red-rimmed eyes. She wished them well and disappeared into the network of pipes.
Wasting no time, they stepped into a strange egg-shaped elevator. The elevator rose through the water to the tram room Francesca had described. They got aboard the tram car and sped along the tunnel to its terminus. From the tram room they stepped into a passageway. The elevator door was a few paces away. The light over the door indicated that the elevator was moving down.
'Do we go naughty or nice?' Zavala asked.
'See if nice works.'
The door opened, and a guard stepped out. A machine pistol was slung from his shoulder. He looked at Zavala suspiciously, then at Austin.
'Pardon me,' Zavala said politely. 'Could you tell us where to find the woman from NUMA? Can't miss her. Tall with red hair.'
The guard began to raise his machine pistol. The move brought Austin's ham-sized right fist crashing into the man's midsection. He made a sound like a deflating balloon, and his legs went limp.
'I thought we were going to try nice,' Zavala said.
'That was nice,' Austin replied. He grabbed the man's arms, and with Zavala holding the feet, they dragged the guard into the elevator. Zavala brought the elevator halfway to the next floor and locked it in place. Austin kneeled and lightly patted the guard's cheek. The man's eyes rolled, then popped wide open when he saw Austin's face.
'We're feeling generous today. You get a second chance. Where's the woman?'
The guard shook his head. Austin wasn't in the mood for stalling. He brought the gun muzzle to the bridge of the guard's nose, so close that the man looked cross-eyed at it.
'I'm not going to waste any time,' Austin said quietly. 'We know she's on the first level. If you don't tell us where she is, we'll find someone who can. Understand?'
The guard nodded.
'Good,' Austin said. He pulled the man to a standing position by the scruff of his neck, and Zavala hit the button for the next floor. Nobody was waiting for the elevator. They pushed the guard out into the deserted hall.
'What's the security like ahead?'
The guard shrugged. 'Most of the guards are upstairs taking care of the big shots coming in for the meeting.'
Austin was curious about the purpose of the meeting and who the VIPs were, but he was more concerned about Gamay. He stuck the gun in the guard's ribs. 'Fetch,' he said.
The guard reluctantly led the way down a corridor and stopped in front of a door with a keypad lock. He hesitated, wondering if he could stall by saying he didn't know the combination, but one look at the thunder and lightning on Austin's brow told him he'd better not try. He punched out the code, and the door opened. The room was empty.
'This is her room,' the guard said. He looked worried.
They pushed him inside and looked around. The small room was evidently used as a cell because it could only be opened from the outside. Zavala went over to the bed, plucked some thing off the pillow, and grinned.
'She was here.' The dark red strand he held in his fingers was unmistakably Gamay's.
Austin turned back to the guard. 'Where did they take her?'
'I don't know,' the guard answered sullenly.
'Make believe that the next thing you say may be your last words, and think very carefully about it.'
The guard knew that Austin would shoot him without hesitation.
'I'm not protecting those creeps,' he said.
'What are you talking about?'
'The Kradzik brothers. They had her taken to the Great Hall.'
'Who are these guys?'
'Couple of killers who do the boss's dirty work,' he said with obvious disgust.
'Tell us how to get there.'
The guard gave them the directions. Austin told him to expect a return visit if he sent them on a wild goose chase. They left him in the room and locked the door, then bolted down the hall to the elevator. They didn't know who the Kradzik brothers were, and they didn't care. One thing they could be certain of. Whatever was planned for Gamay couldn't be good.
Chapter 38
The fifty men gathered around the table on the deck of the Gogstad ship were dressed in dark business suits rather than cloaks and armor, but the scene could have been taken from a thousand-year-old pagan celebration. Torchlight glinted off the sharp metal edges of the medieval armaments lining the walls and cast flickering shadows on the men's faces. The theatrical effect was not accidental. Brynhild had designed the entire chamber as an elaborate stage set with herself as director.
The Gogstad board of directors was made up of some of the most prominent individuals in the world. They came from many countries and every continent. Their ranks included the chief executives of multinational corporations, trade representatives whose secret negotiations gave them more power than some governments, and politicians, past and present, who owed their careers to the plutocracies that were the real ruling class in the countries they came from. The men represented every race and color, but despite the differences in their physical stature and skin complexion, they were bound together by a common denominator: their insatiable avarice. With every disdainful facial expression and gesture, they projected the same polished arrogance.
Brynhild stood on the deck of the Viking ship at the head of the table. 'Welcome, gentlemen,' she said. 'Thank you for coming on short notice. I know many of you traveled a long way, but
