Austin's eyes flashed with anger. He didn't like being told what to do by an officious little government drone. He made no effort to dis- guise the annoyance in his voice. "Looks like I'll be your guest, Mr. Becker." He turned to Zavala. "We'll have to put off our celebration. I'll call the NATO base and get things moving."
Before long, the engine roar of the huge Russian helicopter filled the air. The sling was attached under the Sea Lamprey's belly, and the helicopter lifted the vehicle from the ship's deck. Then Zavala took off in the NUMA helicopter and followed the submersible back to the base where the sub would be loaded onto a transport plane for the return trip.
"One other thing," Becker said. "I'd like you to keep that re- markable suit on board in case the court has the need for further ev- idence. If not, we'll gladly ship it anywhere you wish."
"You want me to make another dive?"
"Possibly. I would clear it with your superiors, of course."
"Of course," Austin said. He was too tired to argue.
The captain came over and announced that the shuttle was ready to take them back to the mainland. Austin wasn't enthusiastic about spending any more time than he had to with the Danish bureaucrat. "I'll come ashore tomorrow if it's all right with you. Captain Larsen wants to show me some of the results of his whale research."
The captain saw the desperation in Austin's eyes and played along. "Oh yes, as I said, you'll find our work fascinating. I'll deliver Mr. Austin to shore in the morning."
Becker shrugged. "Suit yourself I've spent enough time at sea to last me a lifetime."
Austin watched the shuttle boat head toward land and turned to the captain. "Thanks for rescuing me from Mr. Becker."
Larsen sighed heavily. "I suppose bureaucrats like Becker have a value in the scheme of things."
"So do the stomach bacteria that aid in digestion," Austin said.
The captain laughed and put his hand on Austin's shoulder. "I think a liquid celebration of your successful mission is in order."
"I think you're right," Austin said.
7
AUSTIN RECEIVED V IP treatment aboard the research ves- sel. After drinks in the captain's cabin, he enjoyed a delicious meal, then he was entertained with incredible underwater footage of the ship's whale research. He was given a comfortable cabin and slept like a log, and the next morning he said his farewell to Captain Larsen.
The captain seemed sorry to see him go. "We're going to be here a few days doing survey work on the cruiser. Let me know if there is anything I can ever do for you or for NUMA."
They shook hands and Austin climbed into the shuttle for the short trip to the Western Harbor. Happy to be on dry land once more after weeks on and under the sea, he made his way along the cob- blestone quay past the line of fishing boats. The capital city of the Faroe Islands was named Torshavn, "Thor's Harbor," after the mightiest of the Scandinavian gods. Despite its thundering namesake, Torshavn was a quiet settlement located on a headland between two busy boat harbors.
Austin would have preferred to explore the narrow streets that ran between the colorful old houses, but a glance at his watch told him he had better get moving if he wanted to make the hearing. He dropped his duffel bag off at the hotel room that Becker had arranged for him. He figured he wouldn't be in the Faroes more than another day or so, and decided to leave whether Becker wanted him to or not. On his way out, he asked the desk to book him a flight to Copen- hagen in two days.
His destination was a short walk up the hill toward Vaglio Square in the heart of the city's commercial center. A few minutes later, he stopped in front of an impressive nineteenth-century building built ofdark-hued basalt. The plaque on the exterior identified the struc- ture as the Raohus, or Town Hall. He mentally girded his loins for the ordeal ahead. As an employee of a federal agency, Austin was no stranger to the hazards of navigating governmental seas. The rescue of the men trapped in the LeifErisson might have been the easiest part of his Faroese adventure, he reflected.
The receptionist in the Raohus lobby told Austin how to get to the hearing room. He followed a corridor to a door guarded by a burly policeman and identified himself. The officer told him to wait and slipped into the room. He reappeared a moment later with Becker. Taking Austin by the arm, Becker moved out of earshot.
"Good to see you again, Mr. Austin." He glanced at the policeman and lowered his voice. "This matter requires a great deal of delicacy. Do you know anything about the Faroe Islands government?"
"Only that there's an affiliation with Denmark. I don't know the details."
"Correct. The Islands are part of the Kingdom of Denmark, but they have had home rule since 1948. They're quite independent, even keeping their own language. However, when they get into financial trouble, they don't hesitate to ask Copenhagen for money," he said, with a faint smile. "This incident occurred in Faroese waters, but a
Danish warship was involved."
"Which means SOS wouldn't win any popularity contests in Den- mark."
Becker brushed off his comment with an airy wave. "I've made my feelings clear. Those crazy people should be hanged for sinking our ship. But I am a realist. The whole regrettable incident would never have happened if it hadn't been for the Islanders' stubbornness in keeping their old customs."
"You mean the whale hunt?"
"I won't comment on the morality of the grindarap. Many in Den- mark regard the grind as a barbaric and unnecessary ritual. More important are the economic considerations. Companies that might buy Faroese fish or explore for oil don't want the public to think they are doing business with whale murderers. When the Faroese can't pay their bills, Copenhagen must open its pocketbook."
"So much for independence."