Polar Shift (NUMA Files 6)

The captain's eyes narrowed. NUMA or not, he was still annoyed at the directive to change course and head back to the island. The order from Naval Command had been to accommodate his visitors in whatever way they asked, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

"Yes, of course, if we increase speed," he said. "But I am not used to strangers telling me how fast to run my ship."

Austin couldn't miss the sour note in the captain's tone. "Maybe we'll take that vodka after all. What do you say, Joe?"

"Sun's over the yardarm somewhere," Zavala said.

The captain poured three shot glasses full to the brim and passed them around. They clinked glasses, and the NUMA men tossed down their drinks, impressing the captain, who had expected-even hoped-that his guests would gag on the high-octane liquor.

Austin complimented him on his vodka, and then said, "We apologize for diverting your ship, Captain, but it's important that we get to Ivory Island as soon as humanly possible."

"But if you are in a hurry, why didn't you just fly there in the seaplane?"

"We'd like to arrive without our presence being detected," Austin said.

Ivanov responded with a loud guffaw. "The Kotelny is not exactly invisible."

"A valid point. It's important that the ship stay out of visual range of the island. We'll go the rest of the way on our own."

"As you wish. Ivory Island is a remote place. The only people you will see are some scientists on a crazy expedition to clone woolly mammoths."

"We know about the expedition," Austin said. "That's the reason we're here. One of the scientists is a young woman named Karla Janos. We think she may be in danger."

"Miss Janos was a passenger on the Kotelny. What sort of danger is she in?"

"We believe there may be people on the island who want to kill her."

"I don't understand."

"We don't have many details. We only know that we have to get to the island as soon as possible."

Captain Ivanov snatched up the ship's phone and ordered the engine room to proceed at full speed. Austin raised an eyebrow. Karla Janos must be a remarkable young woman. She had obviously entranced the weathered old Russian sea dog.

"Another request, if you don't mind," Austin said. "I wonder if there is a clear area of the deck where Joe and I can work without interfering with the ship's crew."

"Yes, of course. There is plenty of room in the stern."

"We brought two large bags aboard. Could you see that they are brought aft for us?"

"I'll give the order right away."

"One more thing," Austin said as they rose.

These Americans seemed to have an endless list of requirements. "Yes?" he said gruffly.

"Don't put that bottle away," Austin said with a grin. "We will want it to toast Ms. Janos's safe return."

The captain's frown turned to a broad grin. He gave Austin and Zavala several bone-cracking back thumps and led the way to the main deck. He rounded up a couple of crewmen, who carried the large bags to an area behind the superstructure.

After the captain left to attend to his duties, the crewmen watched in fascination as Austin and Zavala pulled a circular metal framework from the bags.

The aluminum-tubing backpack unit enclosed a compact, two-stroke engine, a 2.5-gallon fuel tank and a four-blade propeller. They attached the framework to a narrow seat. Then they attached lines from the framework to a canopy made of ripstop nylon, which they spread out on the deck. In a short time, they had assembled the Adventure X-Presso, a French-made paraglider.

Zavala, who had piloted a wide range of aircraft, cast a skeptical eye at the paraglider.

"That thing looks like a marriage between an electric fan and a barber's chair."

"Sorry," Austin said. "I couldn't fit an Apache helicopter into the carry-on."