the pilothouse, Ivanov beckoned them over to a radar screen and pointed to an elongated blip on the monitor.
'This is Ivory Island. We're about ten kilometers from landfall. How close do you want to go?'
There was a slight haze rising from the ice-flecked green water. The sky was overcast. Visibility was less than a mile. 'Have someone keep watch through binoculars,' Austin said. 'When he sees the island, drop anchor.'
The captain spread out a chart. 'The main harbor is on the south side of the island. There are many smaller coves and inlets around the perimeter.'
After conferring with Zavala, Austin decided to explore the expedition headquarters, then follow the river inland.
'We have enough fuel for roughly two hours in the air, so we'll have to keep our search itinerary tight,' Austin said.
They went over their plans again and had wrapped up the discussion when the lookout said he could see the island.
'Joe and I are grateful for all your help,' Austin told the captain.
'It's nothing,' Ivanov said. 'Ms. Janos reminds me of my own daughter. Please, do whatever you can to help her.'
At Austin's request, the ship was positioned with its stern to the wind and a portion of the deck cleared for takeoff. Austin was pleased to see that the wind was no more than ten miles an hour. A stronger wind might push them backward. He knew, too, that the wind speed in the air would be higher than on the ground.
They first practiced takeoff without the canopy. The trick in a tandem takeoff was to run with synchronized leg movements and launch gently.
'That wasn't bad,' Austin said after their first clumsy attempt.
Zavala glanced at the crewmen, who had been watching the practice runs with a mixture of amusement and horror. 'I'll bet our Russian friends have never seen a four-legged duck before.'
'We'll do better the next time.'
Austin's confidence was misplaced. They stumbled halfway to takeoff, but the next two practice runs were nearly perfect. They put on their goggles, spread the canopy on the deck, extended the lines and connected them to the backpack. Austin hit the starter button and the engine whirred softly. The prop wash inflated the canopy so that it rose off the deck. Austin squeezed the hand throttle to rev up the engine, and they began their awkward, double- legged run toward the stern and into the wind. The three-hundred-square-foot canopy caught the wind and jerked them into the air.
Austin added power and they began to climb. The paraglider had a climb rate of three hundred feet per second, but its ascent was logy because they were riding tandem. Eventually, though, they reached an altitude of five hundred feet. Austin pulled on the left-hand line, which brought the wingtip down, and the paraglider went into a left-hand turn. They flew toward the island at a speed of twenty-five miles per hour.
As they neared land, Austin pulled both wingtips down simultaneously and the paraglider went into a gradual descent. They came in over the right-hand spit of land that enclosed the harbor and swung around on a gradual turn that took them over the deserted beach toward the river he had seen in the charts. Austin saw an object near the river, but the mists enshrouding the paraglider made it difficult to see details.
Zavala shouted, 'There's a body down there!'
Austin brought the paraglider lower. The body was in a small, inflatable life raft that had been drawn up on the beach barely out of reach from the river's flow. He saw that the figure had long gray hair. He forced into the wind, stopped the engine and pulled back on both brake handles.
The wing was supposed to act like a parachute and allow for stand-up landings. But they came in too fast and too high. Their knees buckled, and they did a double nose plant in the sand, but at least they were down.
They collapsed the wing, unharnessed the backpack and approached the body of a woman, who was curled up in the raft in a fetal position. Austin squatted next to the raft and felt her pulse. It was weak, but she was alive. He and Zavala gently rolled her over onto her back. Blood stained her jacket near the left shoulder. Austin pulled the first-aid kit from his pack, and Zavala went to open the jacket so they could inspect the wound. The woman groaned and opened her eyes. They filled with fear when she saw the two strangers.
'It's all right,' Zavala reassured her in his soft-spoken voice. 'We're here to help you.'
Austin brought his canteen to the woman's mouth and gave her a drink of water.
'My name is Kurt, and this is my friend Joe,' Austin said when the color came back to her face. 'Can you tell us your name?'
'Maria Arbatov,' she said in a weak voice. 'My husband …' Her voice trailed off.
'Are you with the expedition, Maria?'
'Yes.'
'Where are the others?'
'Dead. All dead.'
Austin felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. 'What about the young woman? Karla Janos?'
'I don't know what happened to her. They took her away.'
'The same people who shot you?'
'Yes. Ivory hunters. They killed my husband, Sergei, and the two Japanese men.'
'Where did this happen?'
'The old riverbed. I crawled back to the campsite and put the raft in the river.' Her eyes flickered and she passed out.
They inspected the shoulder more closely. The wound wasn't fatal, but Maria had lost a great deal of blood. Zavala cleaned and bandaged the wound. Austin called the
'We found an injured woman on the beach,' he told the captain.
'Miss Janos?'
'No. Maria Arbatov, one of the expedition scientists. She needs medical attention.'
'I'll send a boat in immediately with my medical officer.'
Austin and Zavala made Maria as comfortable as possible. The boat arrived with the medical officer and two crewmen. They carefully loaded the woman aboard and headed back to the icebreaker.
Austin and Zavala hooked up the paraglider. The takeoff went much smoother than their icebreaker launch. As soon as they had gained altitude, Austin steered the paraglider along the river. Alerted by Maria, they kept a sharp eye out for the ivory hunters. Minutes later, they made a soft landing in the permafrost near the old sheds. They slipped their side arms from their holsters and cautiously made their way toward the settlement.
While Joe covered him, Austin checked out the main tent. There were broken eggshells in the rubbish bin, evidence of a recent breakfast. They peeked into the smaller tent, then made their way to the sheds. All the buildings were unlocked except one. They pounded the padlock with a boulder. The lock stayed intact, but the nails holding the clasp in the rotting wood gave out. They opened the door and stepped inside. A musky animal smell greeted their nostrils. The shaft of light coming through the open doorway fell on the fur-covered creature stretched out on the table.
'This isn't something you're likely to see at the Washington Zoo,' Zavala said.
Austin bent over the frozen carcass and examined the stubby trunk and undersize tusks. 'Not unless they've opened a prehistoric wing. This is the carcass of what looks like a baby mammoth.'
'The state of preservation is incredible,' Zavala said. 'It looks freeze-dried.'
After inspecting the frozen animal for a few minutes, they went back outside. Austin noticed boot prints in the permafrost leading to a path that ran alongside the river. They set the paraglider up for a takeoff from a low hill and flew along the winding path of the river, reasoning that Maria Arbatov couldn't have been far from the waterway when she was shot. Austin saw three bodies lying near a fork in a narrow canyon. He circled the immediate area but saw no sign of ivory hunters, and set the paraglider down near the edge of the gorge.
They climbed down the side and made their way to three bodies. The three men had been shot. Austin's jaw hardened, and all traces of warmth vanished from his light blue eyes. He thought about Maria Arbatov's harrowing escape down the river and vowed that whoever did this would be made to pay.
Zavala was bending over scuff marks in the gravelly sand. 'These guys didn't care about covering their tracks. The trail should be easy to follow.'
'Let's go pay them our respects,' Austin said.
