Blue Gold (NUMA Files 2)

“Tahoe! How did you find me?”

“We’ll explain after we pick up Francesca. Can you walk?”

“I’ll crawl on my knees to get out of this dump. Nice outfits,” she said, eyeing their white caps and suits. “Is that what got you past the guards at the door?”

“There weren’t any guards.”

“I guess they didn’t want to be responsible for Daryll and Daryll.”

“Truth is, we blundered in here. We saw you playing a losing game of tag with your friend. I grabbed a crossbow off the wall and watched as you set him up beautifully for a shot.” Austin took a pistol from one of the dead men. “What say we saddle up before the posse comes?”

Gamay nodded and started to limp toward the doors, protectively flanked by the two men. The doors opened, and Brynhild stepped in. She was alone, but that didn’t make her any less imposing as she strode across the hall. She barely glanced at the dead bodies as she came over and stood before them, muscular legs spread wide apart like tree trunks, her hands on her hips.

“I take it this is your handiwork,” she said.

Austin shrugged. “Sorry about the mess.”

“They were fools. If you hadn’t killed them, I would have. They disobeyed my orders and defiled this sacred place.”

“Still, I know how hard it is to get good help these days.”

“Not as hard as you think. There’s no shortage of people who like to kill. How did you get in here?”

“We walked in the front door. What is this place?”

“It’s the heart and soul of my empire.”

“You must be the elusive Brynhild Sigurd,” Austin said.

“That’s correct, and I know who you are, Mr. Austin, and your friend, Mr. Zavala. We’ve been watching you since you visited our facility in Mexico. It was thoughtful of you to honor us with your visit.”

“Don’t mention it. You must let us know who your interior decorator is. What do you think, Joe, early Addams Family or late Transylvanian?”

“I was thinking more like Munster modern. The boat-shaped coffee table is a nice touch.”

“You will learn,” the woman said. “That boat symbolizes the past, the present, and the glorious future.”

Austin laughed. “An appropriate symbol. That boat isn’t going anywhere, and neither is your empire.”

“You NUMA people are becoming tiresome.”

“I was just telling Joe the same thing before you arrived. We don’t want to wear out our welcome. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be on our way. Saddle up, guys.”

Zavala, who was in the lead, tried to step around Brynhild. Out of habit he flashed his trademark smile. Brynhild was a freak, he reasoned, but she was still a female. The famous Zavala charm was lost on the giantess. She reached out and grabbed him by the shirt, shook him like a terrier with a rat, then with her great strength threw him onto the floor. Zavala quickly regained his feet. Ever the gentleman when it came to women of any size or age, he smiled again. “I know how you feel, but this isn’t a good way to end our relationship.”

Brynhild replied with a backhand slap across his face. Joe staggered back a few steps and wiped the blood that was trickling from a corner of his mouth. Brynhild cocked her right fist for another blow. Austin moved in to protect Joe. He was watching Brynhild’s hands, so when she lashed out to the left leg in a classic kickboxing maneuver he was caught by surprise. Her boot smashed into his chest. He felt ribs crack from the tremendous force even before he slammed against the floor with an impact that rattled his teeth.

Seeing Austin fall removed all of Zavala’s inhibitions against striking a woman.

“That makes two sucker punches,” he said softly.

Joe had financed his way through the New York Maritime College by boxing professionally as a middleweight. He won most of his fights, many by knockouts. He had gained weight since college but still managed to keep down to a fighting trim of one hundred seventy-five pounds. He was five foot ten, which gave Brynhild a height advantage of about a foot. She probably outweighed him by fifty pounds, none of it fat.

Brynhild’s kick had put her in a good position to unload a roundhouse right aimed at removing Zavala’s head from his shoulders. Zavala’s old ring instincts were coming back. He saw the punch coming and ducked as the right fist grazed the top of his head, and then he drove a left hard into Brynhild’s midsection. The effort almost cost him a broken wrist, but it threw off his opponent’s timing. She threw a long, loose left that caught air. Tucking his chin in and bringing his hands up, he tried a three-punch combo that had decked more than one opponent in his college days. He followed up a quick left jab with a short right cross and a left hook.

The right missed, but the left hook caught Brynhild solidly in the jaw. Her eyes went glassy, but only for a second. She stepped back as he moved in and shot a hard overhand right to the heart that took his breath away. While he sucked in air she got past his lowered guard and clouted him in the midsection. Zavala absorbed the blow with his hard stomach muscles

and swung a right and a left aimed at her jaw. Both missed. Brynhild had been surprised by Joe’s quick and skillful reaction, but now that she had his measure she stood off and used her superior height and reach to pound him with the long artillery.