Clive Cussler - Serpent

Zavala was waiting for them at the stairway He'd been checking the camp's perimeter.

"The captain says to tell you he called his brigade headquarters," he said. "They're going to get in touch with the Surete Nationale in Rabat. The Surete handles the big criminal investigations."

Nina handed her find to Austin. "It's basalt, volcanic. I'm sure it's from the figure."

Austin studied the rock. "The edges are ragged and charred. This piece has been in a recent explosion." He squinted at the lagoon. "That explains those dead fish."

"It doesn't make sense," Nina said with a shake of her head. "They kill everybody, try to kill me. Then, instead of running off, they go to the trouble of blowing up an artifact. why?"

A silence followed in which nobody offered an answer. Austin suggested they check in with the captain and get back to the ship. They started walking back to the campsite with Nina taking the lead. Zavala purposely lagged behind and walked beside Austin. Speaking in a low tone so Nina wouldn't hear, he said, I told the captain that maybe he'd like to have someone dig around the excavation."

Austin raised an eyebrow

"Nina said the expedition had been working for several days," Zavala added. "Yet there was no open excavation. Every trench had been filled in. That suggest anything to you?"

"Afraid it does. It might have been a case of the victims unknowingly digging their own graves."

Zavala handed Austin a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. The round lenses were shattered. "I found these near the dig."

Austin glanced at the eyeglasses and without a word slipped them into his pocket.

As the Zodiac pulled up beside the research vessel, Nina's eyes appreciatively appraised the meld of function and form built into the sleek bluegreen hull.

"When I saw the Nereus from shore yesterday, I thought it was a magnificent ship. It's even more beautiful up close."

"She's more than beautiful," Austin said, helping Nina onto the stern deck. "She's the most advanced research vessel in the world, two hundred fifty feet from stem to stern, with miles of fiberoptics and highspeed data communications in between. The Nereus has bow thrusters so she can turn on a dime or keep steady in a rough sea, and the latest in submersible vehicles. We've even got a hullmounted sonar system to map the bottom without getting our toes wet."

Austin pointed out the tall cubeshaped structure behind the bridge. "That high superstructure is the science storage area. Inside are wet labs with running seawater. We keep the submersibles, camera sleds, and dive gear there. The ship was built to run with a small crew, around twenty. We can accommodate more than thirty scientists."

With Nina still limping from her foot injury of the night before, they went up three decks into a passageway and stopped at a cabin door. "This is where you'll bunk for the next couple of days."

"I don't want to put anyone out."

"You won't. We've got an odd number of female crew aboard, and there's an empty bunk in the physician's mate cabin. You're conveniently located right next to the library and close to the most important part of ship. C'mon, I'll show you."

He led the way along the passageway to the galley, where Zavala sat at a table drinking espresso and reading a faxed version of The New York Times. The airconditioned sterility was a potent antidote to the desolation at the Place of the Dead. The galley was the standard shipboard decor, Formica and aluminum tables and chairs bolted to the deck. But the aromas coming from the kitchen were not the usual smells of bacon and burger grease that clung to most ships' galleys.

Nina sat down, happy to take the weight off her sore foot. "I must be famished," she said, lifting her chin to inhale. "It smells like a four-star restaurant in here."

Zavala put the paper down. Five-star. We underpaid NUMA types must endure many hardships. The wine list is excellent, but you'll find only California vintages in our cellar."

"This is a U.S. vessel," Austin said in exaggerated apology. "It wouldn't do to have a Bordeaux or Burgundy aboard, though our chef did graduate from Cordon Bleu, if that makes you feel better."

"The dinner choices tonight are steak au poivre and halibut au beurre blanc," Zavala added. "I must apologize for the chef. He's from Provence and tends to go heavy on the basil and olive oil."

Nina looked around at the functional surroundings and shook her head in amazement. "I think I'll survive."

With Nina relaxed, Austin decided it was a good time to bring up an unpleasant subject. First he brought her a tall glass of iced tea. "If you're okay discussing last night again, I'd like to go over what we know in case we missed something," Austin said.

She took a sip of tea as if the brew would fortify her. "I'll be all right," she said, and began to recount again the story of what happened the night before.

Austin listened, eyes half dosed in a sleeping lion imitation, absorbing every word and inflection, tumbling the facts over in his mind, looking for inconsistencies with the first account.

When she had finished he said, "I think you're right not going with Captain Mustapha's bandit theory. Bandits might have killed some of your people trying to rob them, but from what you described this was a deliberate massacre."

"What about Muslim fundamentalist terrorists?" Zavala ventured. "They've killed thousands of people in Algiers."

"Maybe, but terrorists usually like to advertise what they've done. This bunch went out of its way to hide evidence. Why would fundamentalists destroy the stone figure? That's another thing that bothers me, by the way. They'd need specialized explosives to do that."

"Which means they would have known about the statue ahead of time," Zavala said.

"That's right. They came prepared for underwater demolition."

"Impossible," Nina responded. Then, less sure, she said, "I don't see how they could have known about it."

"Me neither," Zavala said. "You're certain they spoke Spanish?"

She nodded emphatically

Austin said, "You can practically walk to Spain across the Strait of Gibraltar from Tangier, and that's not far from here."

Zavala shook his head. "Doesn't mean a thing. I speak Spanish, but I'm a Mexican American who's never been to Spain."

Nina remembered something. "Oh, that reminds me. I forgot about Gonzalez."

"Who is Gonzalez?" Austin said.

"He was a volunteer on the expedition. Actually, he paid to be on it through a nonprofit organization called Time-Quest. I saw him talking to a man, a stranger in a Jeep, yesterday afternoon. Gonzalez said the man was lost. At the time I thought it was peculiar."

"You thought right," Austin said. "It could be nothing, but we'll run a check on Time-Quest and see if they have anything on Gonzalez. I assume he was killed with the others."

"I didn't see him, but I don't know how he could have escaped."

"What about the hovercraft that chased Nina?" Zavala asked Austin. "Maybe there's a lead there."

"From what I could see at water level, it looked like a custom model. Maybe a Griffon made in England. I called NUMA earlier and asked them to run a check on the owners of all

Griffon hovercraft. There can't be too many of them in the world. My guess is they bought it through a dummy corporation."

"Which means they've made it hard to trace."

"Maybe even impossible, but it's worth a try." He stared off into space, thinking. "We're still faced with the main question: why would anybody want to wipe out a harmless archaeological expedition?"

Nina had been sitting with her chin resting on her hand. "Maybe it wasn't so harmless," she ventured.

"What do you mean?"

"I keep coming back to the Olmec figure. It's at the center of things."

I'm still having a problem with the Olmec part. Especially since it was turned into a load of gravel."