Clive Cussler - Polar Shift

Austin cringed at the pun, but his mental pain was short-lived. Zavala called his attention to another section of the green area.

"I'll be damned," Austin said. "People!"

The group stood near the edge of the boulder field. As the paraglider drifted lower, Austin saw someone club another person to the ground. A third figure rushed to the aid of the fallen figure but was jerked away. The paraglider was low enough for Austin to see a flash of blond hair.

"I think we just found Karla Janos," Austin said.

Grisha's thin lips were peeled back in a grin that revealed his bad teeth. He spoke in Russian, and his murderous cohorts appeared from behind the rocks where they had been hiding.

Schroeder quickly sized up the situation. While he and Karla pursued a zigzag path through the city, Grisha and his men could have come straight through the central boulevard and stumbled on the way out.

Grisha motioned for his prisoners to go back the way they had come. As the Russians and their captives broke out of the rocks into the open, Grisha saw the woolly mammoths.

"What are those?" he said. "Sheep?"

"No," Schroeder said. "They're butterflies."

He was unprepared for the fury of Grisha's response. The Russian didn't like being humiliated in front of his men. He let out a feral snarl, raised his gun like a club and slashed Schroeder across the face with the barrel. As Schroeder crumpled to the ground, the last thing he heard was Karla's scream.

Zavala had been watching the drama unfold below. "Looks like she's in bad company. How do you want to handle this? Hawk on a mouse or OK Corral?"

Zavala was asking Austin whether they should make a stealth approach or go in with guns blazing.

"How about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?"

"That's a new one, but anything works for me."

"Hand me your gun and take over the controls. We'll come in from behind. The sun will be in their eyes."

"Wyatt Earp could have used one of these rigs against the Clanton boys."

"As I recall, he did pretty well without it."

Zavala slipped his Heckler amp; Koch from its holster. Handling the weapon with great care, he passed it to Austin, and placed his hands on the controls. They were descending rapidly. Austin positioned himself like a gunfighter, with a weapon in each hand.

Grisha had one arm around Karla's neck, his fingers entwined in her hair. The palm of his other hand was pressed against her face so that she could hardly breathe. With a simple twist, he could have broken her neck. He was angry enough to kill her, but his greed was stronger than his more violent tendencies. She was worth more alive than dead.

But that didn't mean he and his men couldn't have some fun with the beautiful young woman. He removed his hand from her face and pulled down the zipper of her jacket. Frustrated by the layers of warm-weather clothing underneath, he cursed and knocked her to the ground. One of his men shouted.

Grisha glimpsed a shadow moving on the ground and he looked up.

His mouth dropped in amazement.

A two-headed man was swooping down on him from out of the sky.

When the distance narrowed to a couple of hundred feet, Austin started blazing away with both handguns. He aimed off to the side to avoid hitting Karla. Her captors ran for their lives.

With Karla out of the way, Austin was free to aim at his fleeing targets, but it was difficult to get a clear shot while he was moving. Zavala yelled at Austin to get ready to land. He tucked one gun into its holster, the other in his belt.

They attempted to land on their feet, but they had come in too fast. They hit the ground and lurched forward onto their hands and knees. Luckily, the vegetation cushioned the impact. They quickly unstrapped the power unit. While Zavala rolled up the lines to the sail, Austin went over to the blond woman who was kneeling beside an older man.

"Miss Janos?" Austin said.

She glanced up at Austin with her striking gray eyes. "Who are you?"

"Kurt Austin. My friend Joe and I have been looking for you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "My uncle needs help."

Austin dug a first-aid kit out of his pack. The man was still conscious. He lay on his back with his eyes open. He could have been anywhere from sixty-five to seventy-five years old, but it was hard to tell because his long-jawed face was covered with blood that flowed from lacerations on the cheek and brow.

Austin knelt by his side, cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic on the raw flesh. His ministrations must have been painful, but the man didn't flinch. His arctic blue eyes watched every move Austin made.

Austin had barely started his first aid when the man said, "That's enough. Help me up." With Austin's aid, Schroeder struggled to stand. He was a tall man, several inches over Austin's six foot one.

Karla put her arm around her uncle's waist. "Are you all right?"

"I'm a tough old lizard," he said. "It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm okay, thanks to these two men."

Austin noticed the evident bond between the older man and the young woman. He introduced himself and Zavala.

"My name is Schroeder," the man said. "Thank you for your help. How did you find us?"

"We talked to a woman named Maria Arbatov."

"Maria. How is she?" Karla said.

"She's going to be fine, but her husband and two other men were murdered. I assume they were your fellow scientists. There was another man we couldn't identify."

Karla glanced at Schroeder, who said, "He attacked Karla. I had to stop him." He squinted toward the boulder field. "This is a dangerous place. They'll be back. They have automatic weapons, and we're totally exposed out here."

"This is your neighborhood," Austin said. "Where can we find cover?

Schroeder pointed to the base of the slope that came down from the rim of the caldera.

"Down there in the city."

Austin wondered if the man was delirious from his injuries.

"Did you say 'city'?" He saw only the low bluffs at the base of the slope.

"That's right," Karla said. "Oh no, the dwarves are gone. The gunfire must have scared them."

It was Zavala's turn to wonder if he was hearing things. "Dwarves?"

"Yes," Karla said. "Dwarf woolly mammoths."

Austin and Zavala exchanged glances.

"Enough talk. We've got to get moving," Schroeder said.

Clutching Karla by the arm, he limped toward the edge of the bowl. Austin and Zavala took up the rear. Schroeder's insistence that they start moving proved to be sound advice. The group had almost reached the edge of the green area when Grisha and his men suddenly broke from their rocky cover and began firing their guns.

Fountains of dirt erupted in the grass about a dozen feet behind the fleeing group.

It would take only a second for Grisha and his men to get the range. Austin yelled at the others to keep going. He turned and threw himself belly-down on the ground and took careful aim with his Bowen at the nearest Russian.

He cracked off a couple of shots that fell short. Grisha and his men were taking no chances. When Austin fired, they stopped shooting and went belly-down as well.

Austin turned and saw that the others were nearly at the face of the bluff. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted after them. Grisha's men started shooting again. The bullets were practically hitting the ground at his heels as he ducked the others into an opening in the face of the cliff.

Karla shook her flashlight, and the batteries apparently still had a little juice left in them because the bulb glowed dimly. They picked their way through the winding path. When the flashlight finally sputtered and died, they had entered the area where some buildings still stood among the rubble and were beginning to see the glow from the underground city. They followed the beckoning light like moths toward a flame and soon came upon the subterranean metropolis.