Clive Cussler - Polar Shift

"They're not mutts. They are purebred foxhounds. I paid a great deal of money to have them brought in from England."

The stranger nodded, and picked up his reins.

"Wait," Gant said. "Who are you?"

"Kurt Austin. I'm with the National Underwater and Marine Agency."

Gant almost fell off his horse with surprise. He recovered nicely, and pasted a fake smile on his lips.

"I always thought of NUMA in terms of sea horses, not Arabian mares, Mr. Austin."

"There's a lot you don't know about us, Mr. Gant."

Gant let a momentary flash of irritation show on his face. "You know my name."

"Of course. I came here to talk to you."

Gant laughed. "It wasn't necessary to trespass in order to see me. All you had to do was call my office for an appointment."

"Thanks. I'll do that. And when your secretary asks what I want to see you about, I'll say I'd like to talk to you about your plans to trigger a polar shift."

Austin had to hand it to Gant. The man was incredibly controlled. A slight tightening of his lips was his only reaction to Austin's bombshell.

"I'm afraid I would have to tell you that I wouldn't know what you were talking about."

"Maybe the Southern Belle might refresh your memory."

He shook his head. "A Mississippi riverboat, no doubt?"

"The Belle was a giant cargo ship. She was sunk by a couple of giant waves on a voyage to Europe."

"I'm the director of a foundation dedicated to fighting the global influence of multinational corporations. That's the closest I come to transoceanic commerce."

"Sorry for wasting your time," Austin said. "Maybe I should talk to Tris Margrave about this."

He rode off at a trot.

"Wait." Gant spurred his mount and caught up with him. "Where are you going?"

The Arabian halted, and Austin pivoted in the saddle. "I thought you wanted me off the property."

"I'm being very rude. I'd like to invite you back to the house for a drink."

Austin pondered the invitation. "It's a little early for a drink, but I'd settle for a glass of water."

"Splendid," Gant said. "Follow me."

He led Austin off the hill, and they rode through the meadows where horses grazed until they came to a tree-lined driveway that led to Gant's house. Austin had expected a mansion, but he was unprepared for the Tudor-style architectural monstrosity that loomed out of the Virginia countryside.

"Quite the shack," he said. "The foundation must pay you well, Mr. Gant."

"I was a successful international businessman before I saw the error of my ways and organized the Global Interest Network."

"Nice to have a hobby."

Gant replied with a white-toothed smile.

"It's no hobby, Mr. Austin. I'm quite dedicated to my work."

They dismounted and handed the reins to the grooms, who led the horses to an area where a number of horse trailers were clustered.

Gant noticed Austin watching his horse being led away. "They'll take good care of your mount. Nice-looking animal, by the way."

"Thanks. I borrowed her for a few hours to take a ride over here."

"I was wondering about that," Gant said. "How did you get past my security fence? I've got cameras and alarms all over the place."

"Just lucky, I guess," Austin said with a straight face.

Gant suspected that Austin made his own luck, but he didn't press the matter. He'd take it up with Doyle. His security chief was making his way toward them. He glanced at Austin, the only person not dressed for the foxhunt. "Is there a problem, Mr. Gant?"

"Not at all. This is Kurt Austin. He's my guest. Remember his face so you'll recognize him the next time you see him."

Doyle smiled, but the eyes that studied Austin's face were as pitiless as a viper's.

Gant led Austin to a spacious patio where a crowd of red jackets had gathered. The intrepid hunters were drinking from champagne flutes and laughing as they relived the morning's kill. The gathering was exclusively male and high-powered. Austin didn't spend a lot of time in Washington, but he recognized the faces of a number of politicians, government officials and lobbyists. Gant was apparently well plugged in to the Beltway establishment.

Gant ushered him along a gravel path to a polished marble table set off by itself in the corner of an English garden. He ordered a servant to bring them a pitcher of ice water, and invited Austin to take a seat.

Austin sat down, placed his cap on the table and looked around. "I didn't know there were any private foxhunting clubs left in Virginia."

"There are no hunt clubs, at least not officially. We're simply a bunch of old friends trying to keep alive a dying old English custom."

"That's commendable. I've always felt sad that the English custom of public drawing and quartering went by the boards as well."

Gant chuckled. "We're both busy men, so let's not waste time on ancient history. What can I do for you?"

"Cancel your plans for a polar reversal."

"I'll humor you and pretend that I know what you're talking about, Mr. Austin. Why would I want to cancel this so-called reversal?"

"Because if you don't, you could be putting the entire world in jeopardy."

"How's that?"

"I don't know why you're interested in creating a shift of the magnetic poles. Maybe you're just getting bored with slaughtering innocent animals. But what you don't know is that a magnetic shift will trigger a geologic movement of the earth's crust. The impact will be catastrophic."

Gant stared at Austin for a moment. Then he laughed until his eyes brimmed with tears. "That's quite the science fiction plot, Mr. Austin. The end of the world?"

"Or close to it," Austin said in a voice that left no doubt as to his seriousness. "The ocean disturbances that sunk the Southern Belle and one of your own transmitter ships were minor harbingers of the damage to come. I was hoping you would see reason and halt your plans."

Gant's jovial expression disappeared, to be replaced by a sardonic smile and a raised eyebrow. Pinioning Austin in a level gaze, he said, "Here's what I see, Mr. Austin. I see someone who has concocted a tall tale for reasons that escape me."

"Then my warnings haven't made a dent in your plans." Austin's question came out as a statement.

The servant arrived with a pitcher and two glasses.

"I'm curious, Mr. Austin, what made you think I was involved in some bizarre plot?"

"I heard it from the Spider's mouth."

"Pardon?"

"Spider Barrett, the man who developed the polar shift mechanism."

"This Barrett person has been telling you tales as strange as his name."

"I don't think so. He and his partner, Margrave, are geniuses who have the money and talent to prove it. I'm not sure where you fit in."

"You can be sure of one thing, Austin. You made a mistake coming here."

"I was thinking the same thing." Austin picked up his cap and put it on his lap. "You're obviously not interested in anything I have to say. I'll be on my way. Thanks for the water."

He stood and plunked the cap on his head. Gant rose and said, "I'll have someone get your horse."

Oiled by large amounts of alcohol, the boisterous conversation on the patio was becoming even louder. Gant signaled a groom and told him to bring the Arabian to Austin, who pulled himself up on the saddle. Doyle saw him preparing to leave and came over. He held on to the reins as if he were helping.

"I can find my own way out, Mr. Gant. Thanks for your hospitality."

"You'll have to come back when you can spend more time."

"I'll do that."

He nudged the horse with his knees, and it shouldered Doyle out of the way. Doyle was a city boy, and the only horses he had been close to before coming to work for Gant were the ones ridden by Boston's mounted police. He released the reins and stepped back so he wouldn't be stepped on. Austin caught the fear in Doyle's face and he smiled. He flipped the reins and galloped away from the house.